Monday, March 5th, was a rainy and cloudy day. Despite the prolonged uncertainty as to the result of the Presidential election, and the short time given for arrangements, the city was crowded. It was estimated that thirty thousand persons left New York for Washington on Saturday and Sunday. Pennsylvania Avenue was gayly attired in waving bunting, the striking features being pyramids or arches composed of flags and streamers of variegated colors, suspended across the avenue by strong cords. The decorations were not so extensive as would have been the case had longer time been afforded for preparation.

The procession was under the direction of Major Whipple, of the army, as Chief Marshal. It was escorted by the United States troops, which had been concentrated at Washington, the Marines, the District Volunteer Militia, the Philadelphia State Fencibles, and the Columbus Cadets. Governor Hayes rode with General Grant in the latter's carriage, and they were followed by the Grand Army of the Republic, Veteran Associations from Philadelphia and Baltimore, local political associations, and the steam fire engines.

In the Senate Chamber there was the usual assemblage of dignitaries, with crowds of ladies in the galleries. Vice-President Wheeler was sworn in and delivered a brief address, after which he administered the oath to the new Senators. The customary procession was formed, and moved to the platform erected over the eastern entrance to the rotunda. Governor Hayes was greeted with loud cheers from the assembled multitude, and when silence had been restored he read his inaugural in a clear voice. When he had concluded the oath of office was formally administered to him by Chief Justice Waite, and the new President returned to the White House, amid cheers of the multitude and salutes of artillery.

At the White House Mrs. Grant had provided a handsome collation, which was enjoyed by the members of the retiring Administration and a few personal friends of the incoming official. President Hayes was warmly congratulated on having received, through the agency of the Electoral Commission, a title to office that no one would dare to dispute openly. Reckless friends of Mr. Tilden, who had hoped to plunge the country into the turmoil and uncertainty of another election, found that their chief had tamely accepted the situation, and they quietly submitted.

The selection of a Cabinet was not fully determined upon until after President Hayes had arrived in Washington. Before he came General Burnside and other Republicans who had served in the Union army urged the appointment of General Joseph E. Johnston as Secretary of War, but after much discussion the intention was reluctantly abandoned. When President Hayes had been inaugurated the names of several Southerners were presented to him, including ex-Senator Alcorn, Governor John C. Born, and General Walthall, a gallant soldier and an able lawyer. President Hayes finally decided to give the position of Postmaster-General to "Dave" Key.

Judge Key had just before served in the Senate for a year, by appointment of the Governor of Tennessee, as the successor of Andrew Johnson, and his known popularity in that body rendered it certain that his nomination would be confirmed. At the close of the war the Judge had found himself in North Carolina very poorly off for clothes, surrounded by his wife and six children, also poor in raiment, without a dollar of money that would buy a rasher of bacon or a pint of cornmeal. He had a few dollars of Confederate money, but that was not worth the paper it was printed upon. Nearly everybody about him was as poor as himself, and the suffering through the section in which he found himself was very great. He owned nothing in the world but a half-starved mule that had been his war-horse for many months. This was before the days of the Commune, and he didn't know that mule meat was good; besides, he did not want to kill his war-horse that had carried him through so many deadly breaches. Before Judge Key and his family had reached that point when prayers take the place of hunger, however, relief came. An old resident of North Carolina heard of Key's necessities, and helped him out. He gave him seed to sow, a shanty to live in, and some land to till, also a small supply of bacon and cornmeal.

The Judge then went to work. He beat his sword into a plowshare and his fiery charger into a plow-horse. He worked with his little family and lived scantily the whole summer long. There was no fancy farming about it. When the corn was sold the Judge had eighty dollars in despised Yankee greenbacks. He then applied to President Andrew Johnson, who was announcing that "treason is a crime and must be punished," for leave to return to Tennessee, and he awaited a reply with a good deal of apprehension. It came in due course of mail, a very kind, brotherly letter, inclosing a pardon. Judge Key had not asked for this, and was quite overwhelmed. It was stated in the Senate in open session on the day of his confirmation that he had voted for Tilden, but he loyally sustained the Hayes Administration.

The other members of the Cabinet were well-known Republicans. William M. Evarts, who had so successfully piloted Mr. Hayes through the Electoral Commission, was very properly made Secretary of State. Tall, without the slightest tendency toward rotundity, and with an intellectual head set firmly on his shoulders, Mr. Evarts displayed great energy of character, unswerving integrity, and devotion to his clients. Great in positive intellect, he rendered it available, as an able general manoeuvres for position and arranges strategic movements, and was ready to meet his adversaries in a rhetorical struggle with volleys of arguments framed in sentences of prodigious length.

John Sherman, the Secretary of the Treasury, was a financial tower of strength, whose honesty, patriotism, and ability had endeared him to the people, while Carl Schurz, the Secretary of the Interior, was a man of great tact, invariable good temper, and superior education, whose personal appearance was very like that of Mephistopheles, except that Schurz wore glasses.

"Uncle Dick Thompson," although he knew nothing about the navy committed to his charge, was a silver-tongued Indiana stump speaker. The gallant General Devens, of Massachusetts, was to have been Secretary of War, and ex-Representative G. W. McCrary was to have been Attorney-General. But this was not satisfactory to the agents of the New Idria Company, as Mr. McCrary had on one occasion expressed a favorable opinion on the claim of William McGarrahan to the quicksilver mine of which the New Idria had obtained possession. So a pressure was brought to bear upon the President, the result of which was the transposition of Devens and McCrary. The soldier was made Attorney-General, and the country lawyer, ignorant of military matters, was made Secretary of War.

The Cabinet met on Tuesdays and Fridays. The members dropped in one by one, but they were all on hand by "high twelve," each bringing his portfolio containing matters to be submitted. President Hayes sat at the head of the table and Secretary Schurz at the foot; on the right, next to the President, was the Secretary of State, next to him the Secretary of War, and beyond him the Postmaster-General. On the left, next to the President, was the Secretary of the Treasury, the next to him the Secretary of the Navy, and next to the Secretary of the Interior, on that side, the Attorney-General. After the Cabinet met it was ten or fifteen minutes before the members got to work. That ten minutes was taken up in greetings and off-hand talk, in which the spirit of fun and humor cropped out a good deal. When out of official harness, the members of the Cabinet were all men with a sunny, fun-loving side. Judge Key was, perhaps, the jolliest, though the Attorney-General pushed him hard for that distinction. Secretary Thompson was a proverbial lover of a pleasant joke, while Secretary Schurz was hardly equalled in telling one. Secretary McCrary was a good story-teller. Secretary Sherman did not indulge in humor often, but when he did it was, on account of its unexpected character, the more enjoyable. Secretary Evarts was a quiet humorist, and his fund of dry humor and wit was inexhaustible.

The Cabinet jokes always found their way into public circulation and provoked many hearty laughs. It was intimated that Attorney- General Devens delighted in joking the "Ancient Mariner" of the Navy Department. One day Secretary Thompson presented to the Cabinet a list of midshipmen who had passed their examinations. The Secretary called attention to them, and said he would like to have their nominations for promotion to ensigns sent to the Senate as soon as possible, "as they are worthy young men who have thoroughly earned their spurs." "Mr. Thompson," interrupted Mr. Devens, "how long since have they been wearing spurs in the navy?" After ten minutes of so of boy's play before school, the President would call the meeting to order. The Secretary of State would present his budget, and when disposed of he would be followed by the other members of the Cabinet in their order of precedence. The meetings generally occupied about two hours, and the business was conducted in a conversational way.

It was unfortunate for Mr. Hayes that he felt obliged to appoint as his private secretary Mr. Rodgers, of Minnesota. It was understood at Washington that he had been unsuccessful in several business operations, and he certainly was a failure as private secretary. Instead of smoothing down the variety of little grievances that arose between the President and the politicians, he invariably made matters worse. The consequence was that the President was often seen in an unfavorable light by Congressmen, correspondents, and others whose good opinions he merited.

[Facsimile] Sincerely R.B.Hayes RUTHERFORD BIRCHARD HAYES was born at Delaware, Ohio, October 4th, 1822; studied law, and commenced practice at Cincinnati; served in the Union Army receiving promotion from the rank of Major to that of Brigadier-General, 1862-1865; was a Representative in Congress from Ohio from December 4th, 1865, to December, 1867, when he resigned, having been elected Governor of Ohio, serving 1868-1872, and again 1876-1877; was elected President of the United States on the Republican ticket in 1876, and was inaugurated March 5th, 1877.

CHAPTER XXXI. A NEW ERA IN SOCIETY.

Rutherford B. Hayes had not entered upon his fifty-fifth year when he was inaugurated as President. He was a well-built man, of stalwart frame, with an open countenance ruddy with health, kind blue eyes, a full, sandy beard in which there were a few silver threads, a well-shaped mouth, and a smile on his lips. He had served gallantly in the army and creditably in Congress, without having contracted any bad habits or made any personal enemies. His manners were courteous; he bore himself with dignity, yet was affable to all; quick in speech, but open as the day. Politicians did not always obtain the places which they imperiously demanded for themselves or for their henchmen, and he refused to acknowledge that some who had busied themselves about the Southern electoral votes had claims on him which he was to repay by appointments to office. Impassive, non-committal, and always able to clothe his thoughts in an impenetrable garment of well-chosen words, applicants for place rarely obtained positive assurances that their prayers would be granted, but they hoped for the best, thinking that

"The King is kind, and, well we know, the King Knowest what time to promise, when to pay."

Mrs. Hayes exercised a greater influence over public affairs than any lady had since Dolly Madison presided over the White House. Tall, robust, and with a dignified figure, the whole expression of her face, from the broad forehead, which showed below her hair, worn in the old-fashioned style, to the firm mouth and modest chin, bespoke the thoughtful, well-balanced, matronly woman. She had such a bright, animated face that nothing seemed lacking to complete the favorable impression she made upon every one who came under the influence of her radiant smile. That smile was the reflection of a sunny disposition and a nature at rest with itself. She and her husband looked like a couple who lay down at night to peaceful slumbers, undisturbed by nervous dreams of ambition, and awoke in the morning refreshed and well prepared for the duties of the new day, which never found them fretted or flurried.

Mrs. Hayes brought with her from her rural home what was known as "the Ohio idea" of total abstinence from intoxicating drinks, and she enforced it at the White House, somewhat to the annoyance of Mr. Evarts, who, as Secretary of State, refused to permit the Diplomatic Corps to be invited to their customary annual dinner unless wine could be on the table. This Mrs. Hayes refused to allow, and all of the state dinners served while she presided over the hospitalities of the White House were ostensibly strictly temperance banquets, although the steward managed to gratify those fond of something stronger than lemonade. True, no wine glasses obtruded themselves, no popping of champagne corks was heard, no odor of liquor tainted the air fragrant with the perfume of innocent, beautiful flowers. The table groaned with delicacies; there were many devices of the confectioner which called forth admiration. Many wondered why oranges seemed to be altogether preferred, and the waiters were kept busy replenishing salvers upon which the tropical fruit lay. Glances telegraphed to one another that the missing link was found, and that, concealed within the oranges, was delicious frozen punch, a large ingredient of which was strong old Santa Croix rum. Thenceforth (without the knowledge of Mrs. Hayes, of course) Roman punch was served about the middle of the state dinners, care being taken to give the glasses containing the strongest mixture to those who were longing for some potent beverage. This phase of the dinner was named by those who enjoyed it "the Life-Saving Station."

While Mrs. Grant had always denounced the White House as not suitable for a President's residence, Mrs. Hayes was charmed with it. She once took an old friend through it, showed him the rooms, and exclaimed: "No matter what they build, they will never build any more rooms like these!" She had the lumber rooms ransacked, and old china and furniture brought out and renovated, and, when it was possible, ascertained its history. Every evening after dinner she had an informal reception, friends dropping in and leaving at their will, and enjoying her pleasant conversation. Often her rich voice would be heard leading the song of praise, while the deep, clear bass notes of Vice-President Wheeler rounded up the melody. She almost always had one or two young ladies as her guests, and she carried out the official programme of receptions to the letter.

While the President was earnestly endeavoring to restore peace at the South and to reform political abuses at the North, Mrs. Hayes was none the less active in inaugurating a new social policy. One of the evils attendant upon the "gilded era" of the war and the flush times that followed was the universal desire of every one in Washington to be in "society." The maiden from New Hampshire, who counted currency in the Treasury Department for nine hundred dollars a year; the young student from Wisconsin, who received twelve hundred dollars per annum for his services as a copyist in the General Land Office; the janitor of the Circumlocution Bureau, and the energetic correspondent of the Cranberry Centre Gazette, each and all thought that they should dine at the foreign legations, sup with the members of the Cabinet, and mingle in the mazes of the "German" with the families of the Senators. The discrepancy in income or education made no difference in their minds, and to admit either would be to acknowledge a social inferiority that would have been unsupportable. But while some of them, by their persistency, wriggled into "society," the stern reality remained that their compensations did not increase, because their owners sillily diminished them in what they called, maintaining their social position. "Vanity Fair" no longer existed, and the shoddy magnates no longer furnished champagne and terrapin suppers for fashionable crowds, regardless as to who composed those crowds; the strugglers for social position retired into modest quietude, and no longer aspired to be ranked among those in "society."

The people one met at the White House and in society, after the inauguration of President Hayes, were an improvement on those who had figured there since the war. One seldom saw those shoddy and veneer men and women who had neither tradition nor mental culture from which to draw the manner and habit of politeness. They lacked the sturdy self-respect of the New England mechanic, the independent dignity of the Western farmers, or the business-like ease of the New York merchants, but they evidently felt that their investments should command them respect, and they severely looked down upon "them literary fellers," and others with small bank accounts. In the place of these upstarts there were cultivated gentlemen and ladies, who could converse sensibly upon the topics of the day, and if there were neither punch-bowls nor champagne glasses on the supper-table, there were fewer aching heads the next day.

Mrs. Hayes, while blessed with worldly abundance, showed no desire to initiate the extravagances or the follies of European aristocracy. The example she set was soon followed, and her pleasant expression and manners, retaining the ready responsiveness of youth, while adding the wide sympathies of experience, won for her the respect of even those devotees of fashion who at first laughed about her plainly arranged hair and her high-neck black silk dresses. Lofty structures of paupers' hair, elaborately frizzled, were seldom seen on sensible women's heads, nor were the party dresses cut so shamefully low in the neck as to generously display robust maturity or scraggy leanness. It cannot be denied that fear of women and not love of man makes the fair sex submit to the tyranny of the fashions, and Mrs. Hayes having emancipated herself, the emancipation soon became general. While, however, "the first lady of the land" discarded the vulgar extravagances which had become common at Washington, she by no means held herself superior to the obligation of dress, and of the pleasant little artificial graces belonging to high civilization. Some of her evening dresses were elegant, the colors harmonizing, and the style picturesque and becoming. If she had the good taste not to disfigure her classically-shaped head, or to load herself with flashy jewelry, so much the better.

Prominent among the festivities at the White House during the Hayes Administration was the silver-wedding of the President and his wife, which was the first celebration of the kind that had ever occurred there. The vestibule, the halls, and the state apartments were elaborately trimmed with bunting and running vines. In the East Room, at the doors, and in the corners and alcoves tropical plants were clustered in profusion. The mantles were banked with bright-colored cut flowers, smilax was entwined in the huge glass chandeliers, and elsewhere throughout the room were stands of potted plants. Over the main entrance was the National coat-of-arms, and just opposite two immense flags, hanging from ceiling to floor, completely covered the large window. The Green, the Red, and the Blue Parlors were similarly decorated, the flowers used being chiefly azalias, hyacinths, and roses.

The members of the Cabinet and their families were the only official personages invited to this celebration, and with them were a few old friends from Ohio connected with the President's past life and pursuits. A delegation of the regiment which he commanded, the Twenty-third Ohio Volunteer Infantry, brought a beautiful silver offering. Among the President's schoolmates was Mr. Deshla, of Columbus, who said: "I knew him when we called him 'Rud,' when he was called 'Mr. Hayes,' then 'Colonel Hayes,' and 'General Hayes,' then 'Governor Hayes,' and now that he is President we are equally good friends." The guests promenaded through the parlors, and engaged in conversation, the Marine Band playing at intervals.

Precisely at nine o'clock the band struck Mendelssohn's Wedding March, and President Hayes, with his wife on his arm, came down- stairs, followed by members of the family and the special guests, two by two. The procession passed through the inner vestibule into the East Room, where the President and Mrs. Hayes stationed themselves, with their backs to the flag-draped central window, and there remained until the invited guests had paid their congratulations. Mrs. Mitchell, the daughter of the President's sister, Mrs. Platt, stood next Mrs. Hayes and clasped her hand, as she did when a little child, during the marriage ceremony twenty- five years back.

Mrs. Hayes wore a white silk dress, with draperies of white brocade, each headed with two rows of tasseled fringe, and with a full plaiting at the sides and bottom of the front breadth; the heart- shaped neck was filled in with tulle, and the half-long sleeves had a deep ruching of lace. Her hair, in plain braids, was knotted at the back and fastened with a silver comb, while long white kid gloves and white slippers completed the bridal array. On the day previous, which was the actual anniversary, Mrs. Hayes had worn her wedding dress, making no alterations save in letting out the seams. It was a flowered satin, made when ten or twelve breadths of silk were put in a skirt, and there was no semblance of a train appended thereto.

The Rev. Dr. McCabe, who had married Mr. Hayes and Miss Webb twenty- five years before, was present, with Mrs. Herron, who was at the wedding, and who was a guest at the White House. She had an infant daughter, six weeks old, with her, which was christened on the day previous Lucy Hayes. After the happy couple had been congratulated, the President and Mrs. Hayes led the way into the state dining- room, which had been elaborately decked for the occasion with cut flowers and plants. The table was adorned with pyramids of confectionery, fancy French dishes and ices in molds, the bill of fare including every delicacy in the way of eatables, but no beverage except coffee. At midnight, when the guns announced the birth of a new year, congratulations and good wishes were exchanged, and then the company dispersed.

The gossips had much to say about the petition of the venerable ex- Senator Christiancy for a divorce from a young Washington woman, who was a clerk in the Treasury Department when he married her. The irascible, jealous old man magnified trifling circumstances into startling facts, and deliberately attempted to brand his young wife with infamy. She may have been foolish, she may have said or done what was not wise, but those who knew her well asserted that she had given no cause for the terrible accusations brought against her by the man who persuaded her to become his wife, and who proved the truth of the proverb, that "There is no fool like an old fool." His resignation of his seat in the Senate to accept a diplomatic appointment, that Mr. Zach. Chandler might return to it, was said to have been anything but creditable to him, although profitable.

Washington society was also kept in hot water by the young secretaries and attaches of foreign legations, who prided themselves on their success in breaking hearts. There were two classes of these foreign lady-killers. Those of the Castilian type had closely cropped, coal-black hair, smooth faces, with the exception of a moustache, and flashing eyes that betrayed an intriguing disposition. The Saxons (including the British, the Germans, and the Russians) were tall, slender fellows, with their hair parted in the middle, soft eyes, and downy side-whiskers. Both sets were exquisitely polite, courteous in their deportment, and very deferential to those with whom they conversed. They stigmatized a residence in Washington after their sojourn at the various capitals of Europe as unendurable; they intimated that the women of America were "incomplete" and "fastidious," but their criticisms were so courteous that no one could muster heart to contradict them. Every year or two, though, some poor girl was captivated by the glitter of their small talk, and got more or less scorched before she could be extricated.

[Facsimile] W. M. Evarts WILLIAM MAXWELL EVARTS was born at Boston, February 6th, 1818; was graduated at Yale College in 1837; studied in the Harvard Law School, and was admitted to the bar in New York in 1841; was Attorney- General of the United States, July 15th, 1868 - March 3d, 1869; was counsel for President Johnson on his trial upon his impeachment in 1868; was counsel for the United States before the Alabama Claims Tribunal at Geneva, Switzerland, in 1872; was counsel for President Hayes in behalf of the Republican party before the Electoral Commission; was Secretary of State of the United States, March 12th, 1877 - March 3d, 1881; and was a United States Senator from March 4th, 1885.

CHAPTER XXXII. LEADERS AND MEASURES.

Fourteen years after the surrender of Appomattox, the Republicans surrendered in the Capitol at Washington and passed into the minority. President Grant having failed in his severe Southern policy, President Hayes tried conciliation. Never did a President enter upon his duties with more sincere good-will for every section. There was displayed in every act of the incoming Administration a kindliness toward Southern men and Southern interests that almost aroused a jealousy in the North. It was not an affectation on the part of the President, but a true and honest sentiment. The good- will experiment was not quickly made. It took a long time to determine results, and even after the uncompromising spirit of the Southern Democrats had become apparent President Hayes was slow to pronounce the plan a failure. It had seemed to him the only hope of making the South peaceful and prosperous, and he had determined to give it a full trial.

It was evident that the Democrats would have in the Senate of the Forty-sixth Congress that majority that had passed from them in that body when many of its curule chairs were vacated by those who went into the Rebellion. The Democrats in the House of the Forty- fifth Congress, by refusing to make the necessary appropriation for the support of the army, rendered an extra session necessary. When Congress met, on the 18th of March, 1879, the Democrats had a majority of ten in the Senate, and over twenty in the House.

Allen G. Thurman, of Ohio, was recognized by the Democrats in the Senate as their leader. He was a broad-shouldered, sturdily built man, with a large square head and ruddy complexion, gray hair and beard, and a positive manner that commanded respect. Earnest, outspoken, and free in his criticisms of men and manners, he would wave his red bandana pocket handkerchief like a guidon, give his nose a trumpet-blast, take a fresh pinch of snuff, and dash into the debate, dealing rough blows, and scattering the carefully prepared arguments of his adversaries like chaff. When he sat down he would signal to a Republican friend, and they would leave the Senate Chamber by different doors and meet in a committee-room, where there was a supply of old Bourbon whisky.

Senator Bayard, of Delaware, who was also prominent in the Democratic ranks, never forgot that he was the descendant of a long line of eminent statesmen. Tall and straight, his movements were graceful, and his cleanly shaven face and iron-gray hair were classic in beauty. Broad in intellect, he was patient and courteous in debate, rarely losing his dignity or his temper.

Senator Beck, of Kentucky, enjoyed the rare advantage of being ineligible to the Presidential chair, and he did not consequently feel hampered by what he might add in debate to his "record." He was a stalwart, farmer-like looking man, with that overcharged brain which made his tongue at times falter because he could not utter what his furious, fiery eloquence prompted. Entirely different in personal appearance and manner was Senator Pendleton, of Ohio, whose courteous deportment had won him the appellation of "Gentleman George," and who adorned every subject on which he spoke. Senator Saulsbury, of Delaware, a spare, grim, uncompromising bachelor, with a tall, slender figure like that of Thomas Jefferson, would have made a glorious Puritan leader, and Senator Pinckney Whyte, of Maryland, a gentleman by birth and education, was evidently restive at times under the political restraint of the party "bosses" in his State.

Senator Cockrell, of Missouri, was an able lawyer, who had the good sense not to parade his gallant services in the Confederate army, and who was ever on the watch for some extravagant appropriation. He, with Ransom, of North Carolina, and other Confederate brigadiers, saw opposite to them, as their equal, Senator Bruce, of Mississippi, round-faced, bright-eyed, and sepia-hued, the emancipated slave who had reached the full stature of citizenship through the flame of battle that discomfited them.

Another eloquent debater was Senator Lamar, of Mississippi, whose influence in molding public opinion at the South had been as healthy as it had been powerful. Senator Vest, youthful in appearance, was a fiery speaker, and always ready for a tilt with an opponent. The swarthy features of Senator Logan, of Illinois, with his long, coal-black hair and moustache, stood out like a charcoal sketch against the gilded wall of the Senate, and he seemed as ready to meet his political opponents as he had been at the head of his brigade to charge the enemy.

On the other side of the Senate Chamber the pater Senatus was Governor Anthony, of Rhode Island, a man of gracious presence and kind heart, whose eyes were dimmed, but who had not lost the fire and brilliancy which had characterized his early editorial and Senatorial life. Senator Hamlin, of Maine, was the eldest in years on the floor, and yet he did not display the first sign of the weakness of advancing age. Tall, slightly round-shouldered, always wearing a black dress coat, and never an overcoat, he was a remarkably well-preserved man. His forehead was somewhat wrinkled, his black eyes gleamed with vigorous vitality, and his large mouth, with its massive under jaw, was not concealed by a moustache or beard. He rarely spoke, but when he took the floor he always had something to say worth hearing, and he was always listened to.

Senator Edmunds, of Vermont, was an able man and a good lawyer, remarkably well posted in the current literature of the day. Another man learned in the law was the ponderous Senator Davis, of Illinois, who had left the Supreme Court for the Senate, thinking it was the better avenue to the White House, and whose political views were bounded by his personal ambition.

Senator Conkling, of New York, was then at the height of his brilliant Congressional career. Able, high-bred, and stately, he had defeated his home rival, Fenton, and he now claimed the disposal of the New York patronage that he might use it to secure the re- election of General Grant, to be followed by his own elevation to the Presidential chair. The words, "conciliation of enemies," were not in his vocabulary, yet no Senator had so many tried and trusty friends. Another prominent lawyer was Matt. Carpenter, of Wisconsin, one side of whom as described by Charles Sumner when he called him a "jester," while Mr. Edmunds, by a ready pun, as aptly described the other side of him by declaring that the Senator from Massachusetts probably meant a "sug-gester." Retaining the dragoon swagger, which he had acquired at West Point, a jovial nature, indifferent to the decorum of public life, he seemed to have been tossed into the Senate, where other people had with difficulty found their way by hard climbing or by costly purchase.

Senator Ingalls, of Kansas, whose remarks were a stream of epigram, eloquence, and euphony, delicately flavored with sarcasm, often showed a keen appreciation of the ridiculous. Remarkably well informed, and able to command the information in the storehouse of his brain, he never ranted, rarely gesticulated, and his ceremoniously polite excoriations of opponents were like dropping hot lead upon sore places. Very different was Senator Burnside, of Rhode Island, who was known as the "Kaiser William," and whose martial aspect indicated his straightforward honesty of purpose. He was at times restive under the trammels of parliamentary rule, and would speak his mind, no matter who was troubled thereby.

Senator Dawes, of Massachusetts, with clean-shaven cheeks and puritanical earnestness, had been transplanted from the House of Representatives with Senator Allison, of Iowa, a man of rare financial ability, who afterward took a prominent part in the proceedings of the Senate. Then there was Senator Plumb, of Kansas, earnest and straightforward, of whom it was said that he was "Western from the hem of his short pantaloons to the comfortable slouch of his hat."

Senator Blaine, of Maine, was one of the youngest Senators, yet when he rose to speak all listened. Compactly and strongly built, with a commanding figure, prominent features, watchful, gray-hazel eyes, and a rich, manly voice, he was very ready in debate. When the army bill was up, and it was argued that the South was in danger of intimidation, he showed the absurdity of such a position by giving the exact numbers of troops then stationed in each State: "And the entire South has eleven hundred and fifty-five soldiers to intimidate, overrun, oppress, and destroy the liberties of fifteen million people! In the Southern States there are twelve hundred and three counties. If you distribute the soldiers evenly there is not quite one for each county; when I give the counties, I give them from the census of 1870. If you distribute them territorially, there is one for every seven hundred square miles of territory, so that if you make a territorial distribution, I would remind the honorable Senator from Delaware, if I saw him in his seat, that the quota of his State would be three, 'one ragged sergeant and two abreast,' as the old song has it. That is the force ready to destroy the liberties of Delaware!"

In the House of Representatives that sturdy Democratic champion, Samuel J. Randall, of Philadelphia, was elected Speaker, receiving one hundred and forty-three votes against one hundred and twenty- five votes for James A. Garfield, and thirteen votes for Hendrick B. Wright. The Democrats were ably led by Carlisle and Blackburn, of Kentucky; by Morrison and Sparks, of Illinois; by Reagan and Mills, of Texas; by the stately Fernando Wood, of New York, and by Mr. Sam. Cox, who reminded one of those jocular festivities of mediaeval times, when the Abbot of Misrule took possession of his masters and issued his merry orders superciliously to those with whose insults his ears were still tingling.

On the Republican side were Aldrich, Conger, Frye, Hawley, and Lapham, qualifying themselves for service in the Senate; the burly Robeson, ready to defend his acts as Secretary of the Navy; Judge Kelley, of Philadelphia, who had come down from a former generation; Rainey and Smalls, emancipated men and brethren; the witty Tom. Reed, of Maine, who was always happy in his sarcasms; the able and effective Frank Hiscock, of New York, the effective Ben. Butterworth, of Ohio, with others known to fame, constituting a strong House, fresh from the people, and bringing their latest will.

The Democratic Congress again attached to the bill making appropriations for the support of the army an irrelevant piece of legislation aimed directly at the purity of the ballot, thinking that the President, who had so evidently desired to conciliate the South, would not dare to offend it by refusing his official approval. To their surprise, he returned the bill to Congress with a veto message, so dispassionate, yet so entirely covering the case, that it threw the Democratic majorities in Congress into confusion, and forced them to abandon the programme they had marked out. They consoled themselves by turning out nearly all of the officers of the Senate, many of whom were old and faithful servants, and dividing the places thus made vacant among their relatives and henchmen.

President Hayes, by his succession of vetoes, restored l'entente cordiale between himself and the greater portion of the Republican members of Congress. His pure patriotism, his high rectitude of intention, and his personal virtues had never been doubted, and when he was again found acting in accord with the party that elected him, it was believed that he would be carried pleasantly through his embarrassing duties, and that his civil success would match his exploits in arms.

The opera of "Pinafore" became all the rage at Washington, as elsewhere. It was performed at theatres by church choirs, by amateurs, by a colored company, and finally by some juvenile vocalists belonging to the very first families at the West End. Generally speaking, vocalists, especially of the feminine persuasion, have scruples about giving their ages, but on the programmes of this company the ages of the performers were printed opposite to their names. Sir Joseph Porter was personated by Aleck McCormick, a son of Commissioner McCormick, aged twelve; Miss Betty Ordway, aged eleven, was Josephine; Miss Mary Wilson, aged ten, was charming as Little Buttercup; Willie Wilson, aged eleven, was Captain Corcoran; Dick Wallack, aged eleven, was a good Ralph Rackstraw, and Daisy Ricketts, demurely attired as Aunt Ophelia, was primly "splendid." The sisters, the cousins, and the aunts, the sailors, and especially the marine guard, were all represented. The singing was tolerable and the acting generally bad, but the performance was nevertheless enjoyed by the crowded audience. The little people eclipsed the colored choir, and were equal to at least half of the professional combinations.

[Facsimile] RoscoeConkling ROSCOE CONKLING was born at Albany, New York, October 30th, 1829; studied law and commenced practice at Utica in 1846; was Mayor of Utica in 1858; was a Representative in Congress, December 5th, 1859 - March 3d, 1867; was a United States Senator from March 3d, 1867, until his resignation on the 16th of May, 1881; removed to New York City, and entered upon the practice of his profession.

CHAPTER XXXIII. TILTS IN CONGRESS.

The marriage of the King of Spain was celebrated at Washington by Senor Mantilla, the Spanish Minister, who gave a magnificent entertainment at Wormley's Hotel, where he was residing. The parlors were decorated with the Minister's own furniture and paintings, and with a profusion of rare plants and flowers. The Diplomatic Corps wore their court costumes, while the officers of our army and navy appeared in full uniform. Madame Mantilla was an Andalusian, and had the clear, creamy complexion, the large, dark eyes, the black hair, and the fine form which characterizes that section of Spain. The waist of her satin dress was cut square, before and behind, and was very low. The entire front of her long skirt of white satin was covered with a network of pearls. A vest of similar network trimmed the front of the basque. Folds of satin went across the front of the waist and over the short sleeves, and at the back fell from the waist in sash ends, edged with pearl fringe and tassels. Around her throat she wore a band of dark red velvet, studded alternately with diamonds and pearls. Below, falling loosely on the neck, were three strands of pearls with a magnificent pendant, composed of an enormous pearl and clusters of diamonds. In her hair sparkled a superb diadem, formed of sprays of diamonds, presented to the lady by her husband when they were married. Lace stockings and white satin slippers completed her toilet.

The supper-table was set along three sides of the room, forming a hollow square. In the centre was a mound composed of myrtle, in whose bright, green leaves were arranged large and beautifully colored California pears and luscious bunches of Malaga grapes and oranges. A tall silver epergne surmounted the mound, in the centre of which was a cut-glass basket, holding fruits, and on the sides vases of flowers. On the table were numerous silver candelabra holding lighted wax candles, and, alternating with plants, pyramids of bonbons, ices, and other dainties. The table linen, china, and glass all bore the crest of the hostess.

Much ill-breeding had been shown by seekers after invitations, and there was a sad exhibition of bad manners at the supper-table. The lace on ladies' dresses was torn by the trappings of the diplomats and officers, while terrapin and champagne were recklessly scattered. With this exception everything passed off very smoothly, and the hundreds of guests present heartily congratulated the host and hostess. President Hayes and his wife declined departing from their rule not to accept hospitalities, but the White House was well represented by Mr. Webb Hayes and five young ladies, who were at that time his mother's guests.

With the return of the Democrats to power in Congress came one of those great moral struggles which convulses a nation with an agitation only surpassed by a physical contest between hostile armies. The approach of the Presidential contest added to the acerbity of the debates, although some of the participants evidently adopted as their motto the Quaker apothegm, "Treat your enemy as if you thought he might some day become your friend, and your friend as though he might become your enemy."

Those who occasionally engaged in criminations and recriminations did it in a parliamentary and mild-mannered way, and a few hours afterward they might have been seen meeting as guests at the same social board, with every mark of reciprocal cordiality and success. This was doubtless owing, in many instances, to the legal training of the gentlemen who had been accustomed to bandy epithets and to bully their adversaries before juries, and having thus earned their fees, to leave the court, arm in arm, to dine harmoniously together.

One of the most interesting tilts in the Senate was between Matt. Carpenter and James G. Blaine, on the Geneva Award question. Mr. Carpenter was then approaching death's door, and his feeble voice was at times inaudible in the galleries, but his argument sustained his reputation as an advocate and as a Senator. Looking at everything from a judicial standpoint, and manifesting (if he did not express it) a profound contempt for non-professional men who discuss legal questions, he displayed great ingenuity and persuasive eloquence in the presentation of his views. He had evidently studied his case carefully, but he did not hesitate to make strong assertions take the place of authorities, and to base his arguments on those assertions. The entire speech was peppered with cutting allusions to Blaine, who sat unmoved, occasionally joining in the laugh provoked at his expense. Carpenter concluded with an eloquent allusion to General Grant, as one first in war, first in peace, first in the hearts of his countrymen and of all mankind.

When Blaine finally took the floor it was soon evident that he had studied the weak points in what Carpenter had said, and was ready to let fly a volley of satire-tipped arrows with deadly aim. His sentences were terse, crisp, strong, and entirely without ornamentation, but every one told. He began by alluding to his having been often reminded in the debate that he was not a lawyer. The wit would have been brighter and the thrust would have been keener had it been stated that when he set out on the vast sea of adventure he had studied law for two years.

After elaborately reviewing the case and citing many authorities, he concluded by alluding to a proposition that the balance of the award be retained in the Treasury. "This," he said, "would disgrace us in the eyes of the civilized world, by virtually admitting that our legitimate claims did not amount to anything approaching the sum which we demanded and obtained. The excuse made for the notoriously unjust Halifax award was that we had obtained a large sum under false pretenses, and that an offset should be made. Pass around the hat, ask alms if you will, but don't acknowledge that we received this Geneva award under false pretenses."

At the commencement of Mr. Blaine's remarks his well-modulated voice assumed a conversational tone, tinged with sarcastic bitterness as he occasionally indulged in bantering allusions to his lack of legal education. As he proceeded he became more impressive in words and action, and before he had concluded he had advanced between the desks into the centre aisle, where, with head erect and sweeping gestures, he poured forth a flood of stirring eloquence, eliciting repeated applause.

Mr. Carpenter attempted to reply and to criticize humorously some of Mr. Blaine's assertions, but he was not very successful. He said that his long training at the bar had taught him never to provoke a quarrel, and never to leave one unless successful. The Senator from Maine began this, and he should follow it. The Senator will never be able to say he has piped to me and I have not danced. Mr. Blaine made a happy retort, speaking of General Grant in the highest terms, and rivaling Mr. Carpenter in his eulogiums of him. This prompted Mr. Thurman, who next took the floor to say: "The Senators have both indorsed the third term," which provoked such rounds of applause that the presiding officer threatened to have the galleries cleared.

A more serious personal altercation occurred in an executive session, between General Gordon, of Georgia, then the personal defender of President Hayes, and Senator Conkling. General Gordon felt sore because he had failed to secure the entire Democratic vote of the Senate for the confirmation of some important New York nomination, and he regarded Senator Conkling as having defeated this scheme. The Senator from New York could not brook the interference of General Gordon in what he considered a family quarrel, and the two had not regarded each other for some days with looks of love. Trouble was brewing evidently.

When the Senate was in executive session one Friday afternoon, Governor Anthony occupying the chair, there was a warm discussion over the nomination of Ward, a Georgia internal revenue collector, in which some allusions were made to the New York case. When this had been disposed of, General Gordon interrupted the calendar to call for a report on the nomination of Smith, Collector of the Customs at Mobile, and while he was speaking, Senator Conkling, looking up from his letter writing, called out loudly, "Go on with the calendar." Gordon immediately said: "Mr. President, the Senator from New York is not in the chair, but he orders the Chair to go on with the calendar." Several names had been called for action when Gordon made this remark. Conkling was busy reading at the moment, and did not hear it, but his attention was called to it by a Senator who sat near him. Springing to his feet, Conkling asked what the Senator from Georgia had said concerning him. Gordon immediately repeated the language. Conkling said: "If the Senator from Georgia says I ordered the Chair to go on with the calendar he states what is not true." Gordon replied: "Very well, we will settle that hereafter." Conkling retorted: "We will settle it here," and repeated what he said before. Mr. Gordon then again said: "We will not settle it here, but elsewhere."

It was finally agreed that Senators Hamlin and Howe, as friends of Mr. Conkling, and Senators Ransom and McDonald, as friends of General Gordon, should endeavor to adjust the difficulty. The quartette sat in deliberation until one o'clock on Friday night, and met again at ten o'clock on Saturday morning, finally agreeing in the afternoon upon the adroitly drawn up statement made public, after which "all was quiet upon the Potomac." It is not true that any communication passed between the parties, although it is known that Mr. Lamar, of Mississippi, counseled General Gordon, and that Senator Jones, of Nevada, and General Phil. Sheridan were the advisers of Senator Conkling.

A more dramatic incident occurred in a debate, when Senator Voorhees, of Indiana, upbraided Senator Mahone, of Virginia, for acting with the Republicans. When he had concluded the Virginian calmly said that this denunciation of him must stop, and asked whether the Senator from Indiana adopted the phrase, "renegade Democrat," in a document which he had caused to be read as a part of his speech. "Mr. President," retorted Mr. Voorhees, with a defiant air and a contemptuous gesture, "I indorse every sentiment and word in that article. I make it my speech. I indorse the word 'renegade' in it. I indorse every criticism on the course of the Senator from Virginia. He need waste no time in putting words into my mouth. He said this must stop. No one can stop me. That is cheap—very cheap." A profound stillness had fallen upon the chamber when Mahone first arose. The silence became painful now. Mahone had remained standing, calmly waiting for Voorhees' reply, the Indiana Senator towering over his Virginia antagonist like a giant, when Mahone, in a low voice that could be heard in the remotest corners of the chamber, said: "That is an assertion that no brave or honorable man would make. I denounce it as such. Let him take that and wear it." The preliminary conditions of the code were satisfied. The insult had been offered by Voorhees. The challenging words had been spoken by Mahone. The incident ended there, and the Senate, taking a long breath after its eight hours of strife and passion, adjourned until the following Monday.

Mrs. Hayes, instead of frittering away the liberal appropriations made by Congress for the domestic wants of the White House, expended a large share of them in the purchase of a state dinner service of nearly one thousand pieces, illustrating the fauna and flora of the United States. The designs were executed by Mr. Theodore R. Davis, who had fished in the rivers of the East and West and in the sea, hunted fowl and wild game in the forests, the swamps, and the mountains, shot the buffalo on the plains and visited the historic haunts of the Indians in the East, met the Indians in their wigwams and studied their habits on the prairies of the far West. The designs were made in water colors, and although in nearly every instance they were bold and striking, they were difficult to reproduce perfectly upon porcelain with hard mineral colors, and to accomplish this successfully it was necessary to invent new methods and to have recourse to peculiar mechanical appliances, but the effort was successful and the set was produced.

[Facsimile] John Sherman JOHN SHERMAN was born at Lancaster, Ohio, May 10th, 1823; studied law; was admitted to the bar, May 11th, 1844; was a Representative in Congress, December 3d, 1855 - March 3d, 1861; was United States Senator from Ohio, March 4th, 1861 to March 8th, 1877, when he resigned; was Secretary of the Treasury under President Hayes, March 9th, 1877 - March 4th, 1881; was again United States Senator, March 4th, 1881; and was elected President pro tempore of the Senate after the death of Vice-President Hendricks.

CHAPTER XXXIV. STRUGGLE FOR THE PRESIDENTIAL NOMINATION.

When General Grant returned from his trip around the world, the Blaine newspapers, while they filled their columns with adulatory notices of the "Old Commander," also discovered in the "Plumed Knight" qualities which inspired them with enthusiasm and admiration. The friends of General Grant were not, however, to be placed in an attitude of antagonism toward Blaine. They remembered, however, that when Grant retired from the political contest in 1876, and his friends turned toward Blaine, they found confronting them, armed with the poisoned arrows of detraction, the same editors who had for years been opposing and vilifying Grant.

An attempt was then made by Mr. Blaine's friends to place General Grant at the head of a scheme for the construction of a ship canal across the Isthmus as an American enterprise. They enlisted one of Grant's most devoted friends, Read Admiral Daniel Ammen, and he attempted to organize a company, of which General Grant was to be the president. The charter to be granted by Congress was to recognize the national character of the work, and to pledge the United States to oppose any foreign interference, like that of DeLesseps and his Darien Canal. General Grant became interested in the scheme, and affixed his name a few months later to an elaborate magazine article on inter-oceanic canals, every word of which was written by Dr. George B. Loring, of Massachusetts.

Senator Blaine developed great personal popularity as the campaign progressed, even among those who regarded General Grant as a "military necessity." Henry Clay, in his palmiest days, never had a more devoted and enthusiastic following, and many of the stanchest and most stalwart Republicans in Congress were openly for Blaine, while others secretly advocated his claims.

John Sherman had also a powerful following, and while the respective friends of Grant and Blaine began to indulge in recrimination, the cause of the Ohio Senator was quietly pushed without giving offense. Mr. Sherman's unswerving persistence had, in years past, all the effective energy and the successful result of force. General Garfield was at the head of the Ohio delegation, pledged to the support of Sherman, and he was chosen to make the speech nominating him in the Convention.

General Garfield having been requested to give his views as to what should be the course of the Ohio Republicans in reference to the Presidential nomination, wrote a letter in which he said: "I have no doubt that a decisive majority of our party in Ohio favor the nomination of John Sherman. He has earned his recognition at their hands by twenty-five years of conspicuous public service, a period which embraces nearly the whole life of the Republican party. He deserves the especial recognition of the nation for the great service he has rendered in making the resumption law a success, and placing the national finances on a better basis. I am aware of the fact that some Republicans do not indorse all his opinions, but no man who has opinions can expect the universal concurrence of his party in all his views, and no man without opinions is worthy of the support of a great party. I hope the Republicans of Ohio will make no mistake on other candidates; they should fairly and generously recognize the merits of all; but I think they ought to present the name of Mr. Sherman to the National Convention and give him their united and cordial support."

To Mr. Wharton Baker, of Philadelphia, General Garfield wrote: "It is becoming every day more apparent that the friends of the leading Presidential candidates are becoming embittered against each other to such an extent that, whichever of the three may be nominated, there would be much hostility of feeling in the conduct of the campaign. It will be most unfortunate if we go into the contest handicapped by the animosity of the leading politicians. I shall be glad to see you on your arrival in Washington."

General Garfield's influence was politically omnipotent in his own district, yet when the Convention of that district was held to elect delegates to the Chicago Convention, controlled by Garfield's friends and confidential advisers, it surprised the country by electing Blaine delegates. It was then whispered that General Garfield, while ostensibly working for Sherman, would advocate his own nomination, and also that he would have the support of the friends of Mr. Blaine.

The Convention was a remarkable one. The combined anti-Grant men, with cunning parliamentary strategy, carried their points on the unit rule and the credentials. When the names of the candidates were successively presented by their friends, a tumultuous scene of wild applause followed the nominations of James G. Blaine and Ulysses S. Grant, the rival hosts on the floor and in the galleries being animated by paroxysms of enthusiasm never before witnessed on this continent.

General Garfield rose when the State of Ohio was called, and said that he had witnessed the extraordinary scenes of the Convention with great solicitude. The assemblage had seemed to him like a human ocean in a tempest. He had seen the sea lashed into fury and tossed into spray, and its grandeur moves the soul of the dullest man; but he remembered that it was not the billows, but the calm level of the sea, from which all heights and depths are measured. When the enthusiasm should have passed away, the calm level of public opinion would be found, from which the thoughts of a mighty people would be measured. Not at Chicago in the heat of June, but at the ballot-boxes in the quiet of November, would the question be settled. "And now, gentlemen of the Convention," said he, "what do we want?" "We want Garfield," said a clear voice; and from that moment it was evident who the "dark horse" was, and his cold, studied eulogium of John Sherman was really little more than a presentation of himself.

In the thirty-six ballots which ensued, three hundred and six of the delegates cast their votes for General Grant. During the first twenty-eight ballotings, James A. Garfield generally received one vote, and sometimes two. His strength was then gradually increased as the friends of Mr. Blaine and of Mr. Sherman rallied to his support, and on the thirty-eighth ballot he received three hundred and ninety-nine votes, Ulysses S. Grant, three hundred and six; James G. Blaine, twelve; Elihu B. Washburne, five, and John Sherman, three.

Chester A. Arthur was nominated on the first ballot for Vice- President, receiving four hundred and sixty-eight votes. General Grant gave the Chicago ticket his hearty support, and persuaded Senator Conkling to accompany him to Ohio, where they addressed public meetings. They also addressed large popular gatherings in the State of New York, and it was asserted that they carried that State for Garfield and Arthur.

General Grant visited Washington in December, 1880, and had a most enthusiastic welcome. He was received by the Grand Army of the Republic, and as the train entered the railroad station, the chimes of the Metropolitan Church rang out "Home Again," while the field- pieces of the artillery company thundered a salute of seventeen guns. The General was escorted to the house of his friend, Colonel Beale, by the Grand Army, headed by the Marine Band, and as the column passed up Pennsylvania Avenue the dense crowd cheered enthusiastically.

A few days afterward General Grant went to the Capitol, and for the first time an ex-President successively visited the two Houses of Congress while they were in session. In the Senate, when General Grant came in on the floor (to which he had a right, having received the thanks of Congress), Senator Edmunds moved that a recess of ten minutes be taken. The Senators then left their seats and flocked around General Grant, the Confederate brigadiers leading the Democrats, who shook hands cordially with their old chief antagonist.

From the Senate Chamber General Grant went to the House of Representatives, where an adjournment was immediately carried. Speaker Randall then left the chair and invited General Grant to walk down to the area before the reporter's desk. The Representatives were there presented in turn, and then the pages enjoyed the privilege of shaking the General's hand, which they greatly enjoyed, and which he too seemed to enjoy as heartily as they.

General Grant had been the hero of unparalleled ovations, extending over years of time and through his tour around the world. In his own land, city after city had vied with each other in efforts to do him honor, but no receptions were ever more hearty than these in the two houses of Congress. And General Grant appreciated it highly. To be thus greeted by political advocate and antagonist, by his former subordinates on the field and by those who stood against him, was enough to awaken a nature far less sensitive to appreciation than his. He was gratified, and was in one of his most genial moods, his sunshine melting out any remaining iciness in those about him. The fact that he was now regarded as "out of politics" went far to allay suspicions and open up the channels of good-will and friendliness which all admitted were his due in view of distinguished services rendered by him in the crisis of the nation's history. It was a memorable occasion at the Capitol, where so many have occurred.

New Year's Day of 1881 was the coldest that had been known in Washington for a quarter of a century, the mercury having fallen in the morning to ten degrees below zero. As it was the last reception of President and Mrs. Hayes, the White House was the centre of attraction. The state apartments were decorated with flowers, and the Marine Band played in the large entrance hall. The long, central corridor was festooned with flags, and further decorated with flowers and potted plants. The parlors were also adorned with cut flowers and hot-house plants. At eleven A. M. the President and Mrs. Hayes entered the Blue Parlor, preceded by Major Farquhar, of the engineer corps, and followed by the Vice- President and Miss Mills, of San Francisco, who afterward became Mrs. Whitelaw Reid. They took their stations in the centre of the room. The young ladies who were visiting Mrs. Hayes stood back of her and on her right. Colonel Casey made the introductions to the President, and Mr. Webb Hayes to his mother. Mrs. Hayes' dress, of creamy white ribbed silk, very soft and fine, was trimmed very elegantly with white cream-tinted satin and pearl passamenteries. She wore a silver comb in her dark hair and no jewels. Miss Lucy Cook wore a cream-colored brocaded satin, combined with plain silk of the same shade, trimmed with pearls. Miss Dora Scott, of New Orleans, wore an elegant costume of Spanish blonde over satin, trimmed with field daisies, pond-lilies, and strands of pearls. The Attorney-General's niece, Miss Agnes Devens, a bright young school-girl, wore a heliotrope cashmere, trimmed with royal purple velvet. Little Miss Fannie Hayes' bright face and perfect complexion appeared in a child-like dress of white summer camel's hair, trimmed with white satin ribbons. Mrs. Hayes invited Mrs. Elizabeth Thompson, the philanthropist, of New York, to pass the day with her. She wore a superb black velvet trimmed with white ostrich plumes. Her ornaments were pearls. This lady had given away in charity over half a million dollars. The gentlemen of the Cabinet and ladies entered from the Red Parlor, Secretary Evarts and his family immediately preceding the Diplomatic Corps. All the gentlemen of the foreign legations, as was customary, wore court dresses, except those who represented republics. These wore citizens' dress suits.

Secretary Evarts made the presentation of the members of the Diplomatic Corps to the President. Sir Edward Thornton, as the Dean of the Corps, and the British Legation took precedence of any other Foreign Minister then in Washington. All his family were with him, including his tall, fine-looking son, the third Edward Thornton in a direct line of his family who had been attached to the British Legation in Washington. The Russian Minister and his wife were conceded to be the handsomest and most distinguished- looking couple seen in the throng of noted men and fine-looking ladies in the Blue Room.

The attendance of army and navy officers was large, including General Hazen and others recently promoted, from the President's native State, of whom, it was reported, Private Secretary Rodgers used to sing:

"He might have been a Bostonian, Or else a Baltimorian, Or a Chicago man; In spite of all temptation—remained true to his nation, And he's an Ohio man."

General Garfield's selection of Mr. Blaine as Secretary of State was known to the public soon after the Presidential election, but there was much speculation as to who else would be invited into the Cabinet. Many prominent public men went to Mentor, where they found General Garfield ready to listen, but unwilling to make any pledge. He impressed one of these visitors as evincing a desire to bring about the fusion of all the various elements. He would make an honest attempt to give each element proper recognition, and not allow himself to be involved in any controversy with his own party. He recognized the truth of the claim that had not General Grant and Senator Conkling gone into the campaign when they did, he would probably have been defeated, and this visitor was led to believe that the President-elect would treat the Grant wing with consideration.

As to particular persons and sections, General Garfield was so guarded that he gave no impression as to the States that would be represented, except that Iowa should have a place in the Cabinet. As to whether it was to be Mr. Wilson or Mr. Allison, or some one else, the President-elect dropped no hint. The name of Robert Lincoln was talked over, and General Garfield indicated an intention to give him some fitting recognition in his Administration, not only because he considered Mr. Lincoln a bright young man, but because he should take pleasure in making so graceful a tribute to the memory of his father. He did not intimate, however, that it would be by offering the son a seat in the Cabinet, nor did he say it would not be done in that way.

[Facsimile] EBWashburne ELIHU B. WASHBURNE, one of five brothers who have occupied prominent positions under the National Government, was born at Livermore, Maine, September 23d, 1816; studied law and commenced practice at Galena, Illinois; was a Representative from Illinois, 1853-1869; was appointed by President Grant Secretary of State, and after serving a few days, Minister to France, serving 1869-1877; returned to Galena and afterward settled at Chicago.

CHAPTER XXXV. THE GARFIELD INAUGURATION.

The inauguration of James Abram Garfield as the twentieth President of the United States was a grand historical pageant, although its effect was marred by the chilly, snowy, and wet weather. All the night previous the shrill blasts of the storm-king were varied by the whistles of the locomotives and steamboats, which were bringing thousands from the North, the West, and the South. Drenched and draggled people perambulated Pennsylvania Avenue and the adjacent streets, while occasional memories of the war would be revived as a well-equipped regiment or company with its full brass band would march past to its quarters. The hotels were emphatically full, and the last comers were glad to be able to secure one of the hundreds of cots made up in the parlors. Many swarmed into the theatres, the concert halls, or the Capitol, yet there was no drunkenness or rowdyism, but every on appeared to take a Mark Tapley- like view of the storm, and be as jolly as was possible under the circumstances.

Long before the morning guns boomed from the Arsenal and the Navy Yard, thousands of noses flattened against window-glass in the anxiety of the owners to see if the heavens were propitious; but there was no sign of sunshine. As the day advanced there were some bright streaks in the dull gray of the leaden sky, and the excellence of concrete pavements was shown, as they were free from mud, and the slosh was soon trodden into water, which ran off in the gutters. The flags, which had clung to the staffs, began to dry and flutter in the breeze. Nearly every house was decked with bunting, while upon many the most artistic designs of decorative art were displayed. Upon the broad sidewalks of Pennsylvania Avenue a living tide of humanity—men, women, and children—flowed toward the Capitol, pausing now and then to gaze at some passing regiment or political association.

General Sherman, who was Chief Marshal, had made such arrangements that the procession moved with the precision of clock-work when the signal gun was fired. The escort was composed of twelve companies of regular artillery, armed and equipped as infantry, with six companies of marines. Then came President Hayes and President-elect Garfield, with Senators Bayard and Anthony of the Senate Committee, in a four-horse carriage, with the Columbia Commandery of Knights Templar, of which General Garfield was a member, as a guard of honor. General Arthur, escorted by Senator Pendleton, followed in a four-horse carriage. After them marched the well-drilled battalion of Cleveland Grays, the Utica Veterans, in their Continental uniforms; the Utica Citizens' Corps, the Maryland Fifth, the Boston Fusileers, a company of Pennsylvania volunteers, the Grand Army, the naval cadets, the local militia companies, the Signal Corps, and a colored pioneer club.

As the carriages passed down Pennsylvania Avenue to the Capitol, the occupants were greeted with continuous cheers. General Garfield looked somewhat jaded, but doffed his stovepipe hat in response to the shouts, and bowed to the right and left. The crowd all along the line was dense, and it was with difficulty that it could be kept back to make way for the procession. The house windows were all occupied, and presented a varied scene of beautiful women, staid men, fluttering handkerchiefs, uplifted hats, and bright bunting. An armed guard had been posted about the Capitol, and it gave mortal offense to some of the Representatives who tried to force their way in.

As the Senate Chamber is the scene of the swearing in of the Vice- President, and as the galleries hold only about twelve hundred persons, the tickets were in great demand. When the doors were opened at half-past ten there was a rush made for the front seats, and the entire galleries were soon filled. A large majority of the occupants were ladies, fashionably dressed, whose moving fans gave animation to the general effect.

Mrs. Hayes escorted General Garfield's venerable mother and Mrs. Garfield to the gallery seats reserved for them. Mrs. Hayes wore a magnificent sealskin dolman and a black brocaded silk dress, with a white uncut velvet bonnet and ostrich feathers. She carried a bouquet of lilies of the valley. "Mother Garfield," as she was familiarly called, was a white-haired, venerable-looking lady, who wore on that day a black silk bonnet, a black silk dress, and a silk cloak trimmed with a band of silver fox fur. Mrs. General Garfield wore a suit of dark green velvet trimmed with chenille fringe, and a bonnet to match. She carried a bunch of roses. Miss Mollie Garfield wore a plum-colored woolen suit trimmed with plush, and a broad-brimmed gypsy hat, tied down over her ears. Miss Fannie Hayes wore a purple plush suit striped with yellow, and a white felt hat. Officials entitled to admission on the floor of the Senate began to make their appearance and to occupy the vacant chairs, the Senators having doubled up on one side of the Chamber.

When General Hancock, the "superb soldier," entered in full uniform, escorted by Senator Blaine, he was greeted with applause, which continued as he passed around the rear of the Democratic seats to the main aisle, the Senators all being seated on the Republican side. For a few minutes he held a sort of general levee, and was then escorted to a seat in front of and left of the Vice-President, being again greeted with applause. General Sheridan, when he entered, was also applauded. The two Generals sat side by side and each was accompanied by his staff. Sir Edward Thornton headed the Diplomatic Corps, which came in a body, nearly all wearing the resplendent court dresses of their respective nations, and decked with their ribbons, stars, and other insignia of knighthood.

The President of the United States was announced, and all rose as Mr. Hayes entered, escorting General Garfield. The General wore a suit of black cloth, with a black neck-tie, over which his collar was turned down. They were shown to seats in the centre of the Chamber. Mr. Wheeler presented Mr. Arthur, who made a well-worded speech, and was then sworn in by Mr. Wheeler, who in turn made a few remarks, alluding to the good feeling that had always been shown toward him and returning his thanks therefor. His last official act was performed in declaring the Senate of the Forty- sixth Congress adjourned sine die.

Speaker Randall then entered, followed by the Representatives, who filled up what vacant room remained. The Chaplain invoked the blessings of Divine Providence upon the incoming Administration, and asked that prosperity, health, and happiness might attend those whose connection with the Government had ceased. While this prayer was being offered both Mr. Hayes and Mr. Garfield rose and remained standing. President Hayes' proclamation convening a special session of the Senate was read by the Secretary. The roll of the new Senate was then called, and the newly elected Senators were sworn in. Announcement was made that the Senate, the Supreme Court, and the invited spectators would proceed to the east portico of the Capitol to participate in the ceremonies of the inauguration. The greater portion of those in the Senate Chamber, however, did not wait, but started in a most undignified manner for the platform.

This was erected over the lower flight of steps leading up into the eastern portico. In the front and centre was a raised stage, on which was the chair once used by Washington. General Garfield occupied this seat of honor, with President Hayes on his right and Chief Justice Waite on his left.

It was an impressive scene. Behind, as a background, rose the Capitol in its sublime grandeur and with its many memories; all around were the dignitaries of the country, with many ladies, whose ribbons and flowers gave brilliancy to the scene; and in front was an immense sea of upturned faces with lines of bristling bayonets, flags, plumes, and bright uniforms. When silence had been secured General Garfield rose, took off his overcoat, advanced to the front of the stand, and delivered his inaugural address in clear tones and with ringing accents. His face was stronger in those traits that indicate mental power than in classical outlines, and the likeness between him and his mother was noticeable as the evidently delighted old lady sat listening to him. She was the first mother who had heard her son deliver his inaugural as President of the United States. When General Garfield had concluded and the applause had somewhat subsided, the Chief Justice advanced toward him, and the two stood facing each other. The Chief Justice then administered the prescribed oath, which was reverentially taken, and then President Garfield received the plaudits of the people. While the inaugural was being delivered the sun had shone brightly. President Garfield's first act was to kiss his mother and his wife. He then received the congratulations of those around him, and after waiting a few moments for this purpose, was escorted again to his carriage, which was driven to the reviewing stand in front of the White House.

Here General Garfield witnessed the long procession pass in review, the bands playing patriotic airs and the officers saluting. The excellent marching and well-dressed ranks of the passing military was the theme of great praise from the prominent officers and distinguished civilians before whom they passed, and the thousands of spectators who occupied the stands and sidewalks opposite applauded often and loudly. Division after division, brigade after brigade, regiment after regiment, company after company, marched proudly past, forming the finest military display ever witnessed at Washington since the great war reviews, "when Johnny came marching home." Pennsylvania contributed the largest body of troops. The New York Ninth, although late to arrive, was much complimented, and so was the Maryland Fifth; the Boston Fusileers also attracted marked attention. General Sherman was proud of his procession, and he had reason to be. The numerous military commands and civil organizations, the excellent bands, the prancing steeds, the waving plumes and flags, the bright swords and bayonets, and the public spirit which animated the long array, all combined to render the scene a stirring one. It was five o'clock before the military had all passed the reviewing stand, and some of the political organizations which had to leave Washington did not pass in review. Going from the reviewing stand to the White House, President Garfield was welcomed by his aged mother and his family. He then lunched with Mr. and Mrs. Hayes, who soon afterward left for Secretary Sherman's, where they passed the night.

It was fortunate for those who wished to indulge in the time-honored custom of dancing at an inauguration ball that the Government had just completed an immense building for a national museum, which was fitted up for the occasion. Wooden floors were laid by the acre and carefully waxed, and the building was simply yet tastefully decorated. A heroic statue of "Liberty," which stood in the central rotunda of the building, holding aloft a beacon torch, was the first object that struck the visitors on entering. Flags were lavishly displayed, and the high, arched ceiling was almost hidden by a network of evergreens and flowers.

President and Mrs. Garfield arrived at the building about nine o'clock and were received by the Committee, Hon. George Bancroft escorting the President. Mrs. Garfield was dressed with great taste. She wore a dress of light heliotrope satin, elaborately trimmed with point lace, a cluster of pansies at her neck, and no jewelry. Mrs. Hayes, who was escorted by Hon. John Alley, wore a cream-colored satin dress trimmed with ermine.

The supper was served in a temporarily constructed "annex," where preparations were made for seating five hundred persons at a time. The caterer provided fifteen hundred pounds of turkey, one hundred gallons of oysters, fifty hams, three hundred and fifty pounds of butter, seven hundred loaves of bread, two thousand biscuits, one thousand rolls, two hundred gallons of chicken salad, fifteen thousand cakes, one hundred and fifty gallons of ice-cream, fifty gallons of jelly, fifty gallons of water ices, two hundred and fifty gallons of coffee, and other delicacies in proportion.

[Facsimile] J.A.Garfield JAMES ABRAM GARFIELD was born at Orange, Ohio, November 19th, 1831; served in the Union Army as Colonel, Brigadier-General, and Major- General, 1861-1863; was a Representative from Ohio, 1863-1881; was President of the United States from March 4th, 1881, until having been assassinated on the morning of Saturday, July 2d, he, after weary weeks of torture, died at Elberton, N. J., on the seashore, September 19th, 1881.

CHAPTER XXXVI. CHANGES AND DISSENSIONS.

The Senate, which met in executive session when General Garfield was inaugurated, showed many changes. Vice-President Wheeler, who had served in Congress long and well, was replaced by General Arthur, whose war record in the State of New York had won him many friends. Senators Allen Thurman and Matt. Carpenter were missed by their legal friends, but among the new Senators was the ponderous David Davis, "learned in the law." General Hawley replaced Mr. Eaton, and with him there came from the House Messrs. Conger, Mitchell, and Hale. One of the silver kings of the Pacific slope, Mr. Fair, of Nevada, was naturally an object of attention.

As chosen, the Republicans had a majority in the Senate, but the transfer of Messrs. Blaine, Windom, and Kirkwood to the Cabinet gave the Democrats a temporary ascendency. The arrival of Mr. Frye, elected as the successor of Mr. Blaine, and of Mr. McDill, appointed as the successor of Mr. Kirkwood, secured a tie, and the casting vote of Vice-President Arthur enabled the Republicans to secure the control of the committees. The caucus of Republican Senators nominated Senator Anthony for President pro tempore when the Vice-President should vacate the chair; George C. Gorham for Secretary, and Harrison H. Riddleberger, Sergeant-at-Arms. The Democratic Senators refused to permit the election of Messrs. Gorham and Riddleberger, and as seven Senators could at any time prevent action by motions to adjourn, a dead-lock ensued, which lasted from March 23d until May 10th, when the Republicans gracefully surrendered, permitting the Democratic officers of the Senate to retain their places.

Meanwhile there was trouble among the Republican Senators, caused by the rival factions in the State of New York. Early in March several nominations of men who were ostensibly supporters of Mr. Conkling were made unexpectedly to him, and a day or two later the Senate was treated to a genuine surprise in the nomination of W. H. Robertson to be Collector of the Port of New York. The astonishment could not have been greater if the name of Samuel J. Tilden had been sent in. No intimation of such an intention had leaked out. Neither Arthur, Conkling, nor Platt dreamed of such a thing. It was a square blow at Conkling, at the very time when he and his friends were congratulating themselves as being on top. When Vice- President Arthur opened the list of nominations in the Senate, his eye lit first upon the name of Robertson for Collector. He turned the paper down so as to leave that name uppermost, and sent it to Senator Conkling. The latter, upon glancing at it, walked rapidly over to Senator Platt, showed it to him, and they held a whispered conference. After the Senate adjourned, it was learned that the nomination was especially objectionable to them.

It was subsequently stated that in New York city the preceding summer, at Mentor the previous February, and at the White House on the Sunday night before the Wednesday on which Judge Robertson's nomination was sent to the Senate, General Garfield had agreed not to make any appointments for New York unless they were satisfactory to the Republican organization of that State, and that they were to be submitted to the Vice-President and the two Senators from that State. At the interview held on the Sunday night previous to the nomination of Judge Robertson, Senator Conkling had especially objected to having him in the New York Custom House, yet if the President should nominate him to a foreign mission, he would go out in the lobby and hold his nose while the Senate confirmed him.

The objectionable nomination was, however, made, and it was immediately evident that it meant war between the Garfield Administration and Senator Conkling. The next day, while the Senate was in executive session, the President's secretary appeared at the door with a communication, which was handed to the Vice-President, and by him to the Executive Clerk, and read. When it arrived Conkling was sitting at his own desk, buried in a voluminous letter. He never raised his eyes from his letter, nor moved a muscle of his face or body while the Clerk monotonously read the momentous message, withdrawing, not Robertson, but all the nominations of men for the leading New York offices who were acceptable to the Senator. The arrow went home, of course, but the wounded one betrayed no sign of pain.

The nomination was referred to the Committee on Commerce, of which Mr. Conkling was chairman, and was there pigeon-holed until issue on it was squarely made in the Senate and in the Republican party. Republican Senators, who visited the White House or the Departments in search of offices for their henchmen, were plainly told that their votes in favor of the confirmation of Judge Robertson's nomination would be expected. The Democratic Senators were also looked after, and among other means resorted to in order to disarm their opposition was a letter signed by every Democratic member of the New York Legislature, addressed to Senator Pendleton, chairman of the Senatorial caucus, urging the confirmation of Judge Robertson. It would make an Administration and an anti-Administration faction in New York Republicanism, and would secure the State to the Democrats.