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The two men who occupied the most prominent positions before the oratory were His Excellency the President, and the Chief Justice of the United States. I am not going to record their lives; the pen of the historian will do that. I desire merely to say that they were representative Americans, who rose from the humblest position to the topmost round of the ladder of fame. And may it prove a solemn warning to those mothers who are accustomed to apply the slipper to unruly urchins. I beg them to desist, lest they may be breaking the spirit or souring the disposition of some future President or Chief Justice of the United States.
Among the celebrities in the gallery I noticed the widow of Daniel Webster. But as I have given my opinion about the beauty of women, I shall make no departure from it, unless the ends shall justify the means. The wife of the Lieutenant General, Julia Dent Grant, occupied a front seat in the gallery, just as she had a right to do. She wore a pink hat, a red plaided scarf, and black gloves, and a little upstart woman who sat near me had the impudence to say the general’s lady “looked horrid.” She no doubt would have been put out for the above expression but the gallery was so crowded that no officer could be found at the proper time to discharge his duty.
Just before the time arrived for opening this great historical meeting Washington contained two sets of people besides the saints and sinners, and these were the envious and the envied. The envied were the fortunate holders of tickets to the meeting, and the envious were the great outsiders. But when the third hour of that memorable speaking arrived the tables were turned. Members began to twist around as if they were schoolboys, the victims of pins which in some unaccountable way had been put in the cushions of their chairs, points upward. A celebrated New York politician treated himself to a newspaper; tobacco-boxes circulated freely and all sorts of expressions came over the human countenance which are possible when men get into positions where they are obliged to behave themselves and don’t want to. I will add, everything must come to an end, and so did this great occasion.
As I have nearly filled the allotted space, I must only glance at the great ball at the Marquis De Montholon’s and say it was equal, but not superior, to the same kind of parties given by our accomplished countrywoman, Mrs. Senator Sprague. In both cases no expense is spared in the entertainment of guests, and any amount of greenbacks, duty in the shape of costly silks and laces; but I learn that precious stones are more or less abandoned, since the shoddy and petroleum have learned to shine.
The shadows of Lent are upon us, and this fact crowded the President’s last levee to suffocation. It was exceedingly painful to notice the violation of good taste in some of my countrywomen by their appearance before the Executive and the ladies of the mansion in bonnet and wrappings. Unless ladies can conform to the usages of good society they had better remain at home.
Olivia.
ADVICE POLITICAL.
President Johnson Gives Evidence of His Occupancy of the Chair of the Executive.
Washington, March 1, 1866.
It is so well known that it is almost needless for me to repeat that politics in Washington are shaken from center to circumference, and the country seems astounded at the bearing of a little innocent speech which emanated from His Excellency the President, from the balcony of the White House. Didn’t Mr. Johnson take measures to prepare the minds of Congress and the people by his veto and still more significant message? Didn’t he send his “Premier” to the great metropolis to assure the people that “the war would cease in ninety days”? If the people are astonished, who is to blame for it? Have they forgotten the fact that they have a Southern President? Andrew Johnson is a man. Andrew Johnson is human. This is proved by his wise and decorous behavior on inauguration day, by his kindness of heart to the down-trodden, and by his willingness to grant pardons to those who humble themselves so much as to ask it. Isn’t his adopted State shivering out in the cold, and his own flesh and blood by marriage denied admittance to Congress—said flesh and blood holding credentials in his hands the genuineness of which cannot for a moment be doubted? But there is one way by which a great deal of trouble can be saved the country and end the war which is surely coming upon the land. It is not a war of cold steel, but the clash of mental weapons, and it is feared that the party which can rally the most humbug is sure to win, just as they used to do in the good old Democratic days when Andrew Johnson sat in the Senate and had political sagacity to see in what direction power lay. Wasn’t he a “Dimmicrat” then? And isn’t he a Democrat to-day? Having no further use for the cloak called Unionism, he throws it aside. Shall we acknowledge that we have been humbugged—acknowledge that we have been dolts, idiots? No; rather let us uphold the President and the Constitution. Let us all turn Democrats—every man, woman and child in the land—and then there will be nothing to fight for. But lest some unscrupulous politicians may fail to profit by good advice, I hasten to call the attention of postmasters and custom-house officers who have lately been flying the star-spangled banner, and advise them to lower it immediately; also to make haste and don a new political garment, made by the first tailor in the land, else they will come to grief, for already the Democrats, those long-neglected sufferers, are on the wing for Washington, to be present at the distribution of the spoils, and those unfortunate Republicans who were so unwise as to vote for Andy Johnson deserve to be ousted, and the vacant places should be filled by those returned rebels, for shouldn’t there be more rejoicing over the one that is found than the ninety and nine who never go astray?
And would all this trouble have come upon the land if the men had stayed at home managing business and the women had done the legislating? Was a woman ever known to take a frozen viper to her bosom? This great triumph was left for man to accomplish. After the sad experience of masculine politicians, I trust they will be content to remain quietly at home and let wiser and weaker heads take the affairs of the nation into their hands, and our word for it Charles Sumner and Thaddeus Stevens, the cause of this anguish, will have to hide their diminished heads. Sumner and Stevens are both unmarried men; they have been bachelors ever since they were born, and this headstrong course which they have taken, bringing anguish and woe into every city and hamlet in the land, is owing to the want of the softening and refining influence of woman. The President didn’t mention this fact from the balcony of the White House, but he no doubt would have done so if Messrs. Clampit and Aiken (counsel for the conspirators) had called his attention to it.
If some of my readers take exception to the political caste of the beginning of this letter, I will say that nothing else is thought of in Washington, much less talked about, and it is surprising to see the ladies conning newspapers that are devoted exclusively to politics. Never, since the opening guns upon Sumter, has so much feeling been expressed.
The solemnities of Lent are upon us,