Recollections of Forty Years in the House, Senate and Cabinet: An Autobiography.Sherman, John
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Recollections of Forty Years in the House, Senate and Cabinet: An Autobiography.
Sherman, John
Sherman, John, 1823-1900; Statesmen -- United States -- Biography; United States -- Politics and government -- 19th century
On my arrival I went to the National Hotel, then the most popular
hotel in Washington, where many Senators and Members lodged. I
found there, also, a number of charming young ladies whose company
was much more agreeable to me than that of the most distinguished
statesmen. We had hops, balls and receptions, but I recall very
few public men I met at that time. Mr. Vinton, then the veteran
Member from Ohio, invited me to join for a few days his mess; he
was then boarding in a house nearly opposite the hotel, kept by an
Italian whose name I cannot recall. He was a famous cook. The
mess was composed entirely of Senators and Members, one of the
former being Mr. Crittenden, of Kentucky. I was delighted and
instructed by the free and easy talk that prevailed, a mixture of
funny jokes, well-told stories and gay and grave discussions of
politics and law.
My stay at the capital was brief as I wished to go to New York and
Boston. In New York I received from a relative a letter of
introduction to Benj. R. Curtis, then an eminent lawyer, and latterly
a more eminent justice of the Supreme Court. When I presented my
letter I was received very kindly and after a brief conversation
he said he was able to do me a favor, that he had a ticket to a
grand banquet to be attended by the leading men of Boston at Plymouth
Rock, on the anniversary of the landing of the Pilgrim Fathers,
and that Daniel Webster would preside. I heartily thanked him,
and on the next day, prompt on time, I entered the train at Boston
for Plymouth. When I arrived at the hotel, which is also a station-
house of the railway, I did not know a single person in the great
assemblage. In due time we were ushered into the dining hall where
the banquet was spread. There was no mistaking Webster. He sat
at the center of a cross table with the British minister on his
right and Jeremiah Mason on his left. At the other end of the room
sat Abbott Lawrence and other distinguished men. The residue of
the guests, merchants, poets, and orators of Massachusetts, filled
every seat at the tables. I sat some way down on the side and
introduced myself to my neighbors on the right and left, but my
eye was on Webster, from whom I expected such lofty eloquence as
he alone could utter.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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