“was ushered in by a Federal salute from the battery and welcomed by a discharge of 13 guns from the brig Grand Sachem, lying in the stream. The society assembled at the great Wigwam, in Broad street, five hours after the rising of the sun, and was conducted from there in an elegant procession to the brick meeting house in Beekman street. Before them was borne the cap of liberty; after following seven hunters in Tammanial dress, then the great standard of the society, in the rear of which was the Grand Sachem and other officers. On either side of these were formed the members in tribes, each headed by its standard bearers and Sachem in full dress. At the brick meeting house an oration was delivered by their brother, Josiah Ogden Hoffman, to the society and to a most respectable and crowded audience. In the most brilliant and pathetic language he traced the origin of the Columbian Order and the Society of the Cincinnati. From the meeting house the procession proceeded (as before) to Campbell’s grounds, where upwards of two hundred people partook of a handsome and plentiful repast. The dinner was honored by his Excellency [George Clinton] and many of the most respectable citizens.” The toasts, that now seem so quaint, mirror the spirit of the diners. “The Grand Sachem of the Thirteen United Fires,” ran the first, “may his declining sun be precious in the sight of the Great Spirit that the mild luster of his departing beams may prove no less glorious than the effulgence of the rising or transcendent splendor of his meridian greatness.” The second: “The head men and chiefs of the Grand Council of the Thirteen United Fires--may they convince our foes not only of their courage to lift, prudence to direct and clemency to withhold the hatchet, but of their power to inflict it in their country’s cause.” Up to 1835, at least, toasts were an important feature in public dinners, as they were supposed to disclose the sentiments, political or otherwise, of the person or body from whom they came. In this fashion the Tammany Society announced its instant sympathy with the French Revolution in all its stages. On May 12, 1793, the sixth toast read: “Success to the _Armies_ of France, and Wisdom, Concord and Firmness to the Convention.” “The first sentence was hardly articulated,” a newspaper[6] records, “when _as one_ the whole company _arose_ and gave three cheers, continued by roars of applause for several minutes; the toast was then given in whole and the applauses reiterated.”