CHAPTER XI. WASHINGTON-PRESIDENTIAL INAUGURATION, AND ITS SCENES -VISITORS ON THE OCCASION-ELECTION STATISTICS-AD VANTAGE OF AN ECHO-DUTIES OF THE SENATE-A WIGWAM SUPPER-THE ARKANSAS GENTLEMAN COLT AND HIS RE VOLVERS SUMMONS OF INDIAN CHIEFS IN COUNCIL AMERICA'S OFFER TO GET ENGLAND OUT OF A MESS-PHARAOH'S HOSTS, AND FARO'S GUESTS THE WHITE HOUSESOMETHING LIKE A PRESIDENT, AND SOME IDEA OF HIS LAST LEVEE-" KISSING HANDS AND SHAKING HANDS." HOWEVER enthusiastic a man's mind may be, or however determined his spirit of enterprise, and his consequent disposition to wander into the extremest points of the United States, he would be spared a great deal of trouble, should he happen to visit the famous city of Washington, the capital of the district of Columbia,* at the period of the Presidential Inauguration (which takes place every fourth year); inasmuch as he will fall in with the most extraordinary characters there assembled, from every State of the Union, whom, in their respective localities, he might probably have never had a chance of meeting, flocking hither, reckless of distance, as far as from St. Francisco in one direction (at the least 8000 miles), from Mississippi in another (1200 miles), then Arkansas (some 1400), Texas, Louisiana, and Florida, each much more, New Orleans, a good 2000, and numerous other places of minor mileage, alarming as they would sound to European ears. Habit, association, or what you will, are apt to *The European reader, who may be uninformed upon the fact, must understand that the district of Columbia is not comprised in the thirty-one States of the Union, but is a distinct tract, originally of ten miles square, ceded by Maryland and Virginia, for the purpose of being occupied, agreeably to the selection of President Washington, as the seat of the Federal Government, and consequently the residence of the President, the heads of departments, foreign ambassadors, &c. It has no local representative in the National Assembly. By the withdrawal, in 1846, of the city and county of Alexandria, the laws of Maryland are here enforced, unless superseded by special Acts of Congress. VOL. I. M inspire one with the notion that the capital city of any place (especially that where National Senatorial Meetings are held) will be found characterized by refinement of manner, elegance of pursuit, and purity of taste but it would puzzle a conjurer to find much of either of these ingredients in the good city of Washington. It is one of the dirtiest districts imaginable; the only distinction in the quality lying between mud and dust-the incessant rains inundating the streets with the one, and the sudden bleak winds drying up that one, into the perfection of the other. It is facetiously called the City of Magnificent Distances ;" and it carries out the name as far as distance is concerned; for Pennsylvania Avenue (or rather one half of it, in an unbroken line from Congress Hall to the Presidential residence) is one good mile in length, and there are not houses enough in it to fill up one quarter of that distance. Washington, like the ancient city it aspires to ape, has its Capitol and its Tiber; but the resemblance ceases with the titles; still, standing on the steps of that Capitol, and looking over the gorgeous panorama spread out before the eye, it is palpable how splendid a place it might let us hope in time it will become. All these drawbacks, however, are atoned for by occurrences of the passing hour, and by characters who are the chief actors in them. Come and occupy, by our side, a stall in the entrance-hall of one of the filthiest hotels* in the *The " National," for fear of a mistake; but as 66 any port in a storm" is a truism, we were fortunate enough to get a berth even here, as the following dialogue will demonstrate. Arriving late in the evening, we went up to the office, and made this inquiry: MR. BUNN.-What room can I have? CLERK.-None. MR. BUNN.-What do you mean by "None?" MR. BUNN.-Am I to sleep in the street, then? CLERK.-That's your affair. If you wait an hour or two, I'll see if there's a spare bed out of the fourteen made up on the ground floor, in the big-room. MR. BUNN.-I am not in the habit of sleeping in promiscuous company. Where's the landlord? Enter LANDlord. LANDLORD.-What's the row? MR. BUNN. Your clerk says I can't have a room. LANDLORD.-I guess he's right. MR. BUNN. Here's a letter for you. (Giving him one from "Revere House," Boston.) LANDLORD (after reading it.)—0· -h; that's another affair (Hallooing to a Nigger.) Here, you, take this gentleman's lug wide realms of Christendom, and there you will behold a motley group, the fellow to which has never been elsewhere gazed upon. That short, thickset man, with a fur-cap on (beneath which a profusion of uncombed hair clusters and falls down over his shoulders), in dark fustian jacket, scarlet waistcoat, trowsers turned up at the bottom (as it were to protect from dirt what is too dirty already to admit of any increase) — well, that man is known to be an Abolitionist; but being in utter ignorance as to what line of politics the in-coming President may adopt on the Slave Question, he has ventured into the very hot-bed of slavery to see what chance he has of obtaining the postmastership of the town he comes from. Not many paces from him is a wealthy slave-owner from Richmond, whose hardened visage bespeaks the iron character of his heart he is here in pursuit of a fugitive son of Africa, yet at the same time means to see the Inauguration, thereby blending pleasure and business together. It is a question whether he was ever shaved in his life, nor is there any striking evidence of his having been too much washed; his head is gage up to 296. (Then to Mr. B.) Here's the key, and mind and keep holdfast on it, or prehaps you'll find some fellor in your bed, by-and-bye. |