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The first inauguration of General Grant was a grand affair.

On the evening of the fourth of March, long after the procession had all passed, a youth in West Point uniform, with three or four friends, came to the front door and commenced moving in. I stopped him and told him the house was closed to visitors. He said, "I am General Grant's son Fred." I said, "All right, then, sir, you and your friends can pass in."

General Grant brought all his staff officers with him. General Rollins, Pa chief of staff; General Dent, his brother-in-law; General Horace Porter, now Ambassador to France; General Comstock; General Badeau, who wrote the "Memories of Grant;" and General O. E. Babcock.

Throngs of people besieged the White House day after day, so persistently that they

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had to have a guard chain put on the inside of the door, in order that we could open it just wide enough to talk to the people outside, and find out what they wanted before we attempted to let them in.

After the General had been in the White House some time, as President, and things got to running smoothly, the crowd thinned out considerably, so that the President could take a walk. One evening on his return I opened the door for him and he said, in a very quiet way, "I think that fastening could be taken off the door now." I said, "All right, Mr. President, it shall be attended to at once." And it was. General Grant and Mrs. Grant were certainly very popular with the people, and the number of people who called on them, socially, in the evening, was simply wonderful.

Quite a number would call regarding their petitions for office. A lady and gentleman came from the South. They gave me their cards which I took up to the President, but he begged to be excused from seeing them. There was something very peculiar about that couple, I thought. After I had delivered the message to them--the lady was a very fluent talker--I entered into a conversation with

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her. She talked very rapidly, and moved her position frequently; first, she would be in a chair and sit there a few moments; then she would sit down on a sofa, and then to the chair again, talking incessantly all the time to me, and I to her. Her next move was a very peculiar one. There was a large, heavy marble-top table standing in the waiting-room, on the right- hand side of the entrance; she went up to the table and first sat on the edge of it, then kept edging up, further and further, until she had both feet upon the table, and was sitting right in the middle of it, talking for dear life all the while. It was to me one of the most astonishing sights imaginable. After talking a long time, she and her escort took their departure very quietly, and seemed to be perfectly happy as they went out.

On one occasion some company called on Mrs. Grant in the afternoon. There were several ladies and gentlemen in the party. I took their cards up to Mrs. Grant, who was in the library at the time, and the President was sitting at the piano, thumping the keys with one hand. I presented the cards to Mrs. Grant, and she said, "Ulysses, shall we see these people?" He replied, in that dry way

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of his, "Mrs. Grant, that's your funeral, not mine," and they had a good, hearty laugh over it. She finally went down to see the callers for a short time.

When General Sherman or General Sheridan called on the President, he was always heard to say, "Why, Sherman, how do you do?" or, "Why, Sheridan, how do, you do? Come in and be seated." There was no formal "General" about it, but just the address of familiar friendship.

One day I saw two gentlemen coming up the sidewalk. It was after three o'clock in the afternoon. I said in my mind, "I do not think the President will see these two gentlemen." I stepped to the door and met them, and said, "Gentlemen, it is after the hour when the President receives visitors." They said, "We have an engagement with the President." I said, "All right, gentlemen, if that is the case, walk in." I went into the inner corridor, and there met the President, who had just lit a cigar, and was about to take his evening stroll. I said, "Mr. President, these two gentlemen say they have an engagement with you. I told them it was after your hours for receiving visitors." The President immediately spoke

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up and said, "Yes, I had an engagement with them at two o'clock; it is now after three o'clock, and I must poke my nose out of doors a bit, to get a little fresh air." He said to me, "Where are the gentlemen?" I said, "In the little waiting-room, Mr. President." He stepped to the door and they met him immediately, and he said, "Gentlemen, your engagement was for two o'clock; it is now after three, and you failed to fulfil your engagement, and I must have a little opportunity to poke my nose out of doors, and get some fresh air. Good afternoon, gentlemen," and the President walked out, smoking his cigar.

On another afternoon, as the President started to take his walk, a woman met him on the portico, and her tongue commenced running at a great rate. If she didn't rattle it out at the rate of ninety miles an hour! The President listened to her very attentively, and when she had about run down, as a clock would, she handed him a letter. He said a few words to her, put the letter in his pocket and continued his walk.

Another time when President Grant had been out walking--the day was very gloomy, it looked as though a northeast storm was

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brewing--the rain commenced pouring down in torrents just as he entered the east gate on Pennsylvania Avenue. He did not hasten his gait a particle, but seemed to enjoy the drenching he was getting, and walked along as unconcerned as though the sun was shining and such a thing as rain was never heard of.

One evening Jesse Grant had "Jeff Davis" brought up to the house--this was a little black war horse the President used to ride in battle. He started off for his ride. After he had been gone some time "Jeff Davis" came scampering home, and no rider on his back. After a while Jesse came trudging home on foot. In the meantime, the President saw "Jeff Davis" making his way towards the stable, and Jesse and he met in the main vestibule. Considerable dust was on Jesse's clothes. The President, in a laughing way, said, "Why, Jesse, where is 'Jeff Davis?'" Jesse said, "I don't know. He threw me way out there in the dust, and put out for home." The President had a hearty laugh over this incident.

Jesse used to like to come and sit in the little anteroom, and talk to me about men-of-war. I would tell the different parts of a man-o'-war

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and what the sailors on board had told me, and he seemed to take quite a fancy to me. He was very much like his father in his ways--very quiet in his manner of speaking. He took a seat in the room alongside of me one day and said, "Mr. Pendel, you don't smoke." I said, "No." He said, "You don't chew." I said, "No." He said, "You don't drink." I said, "No." He said, "Good man! good man!" I afterwards related this incident to his wife, as I was taking her through the conservatory, and she had a good laugh over it.

Miss Nellie Grant was a charming young lady of a most pleasant disposition--very pleasant and quiet. Always, when she would be going to a dinner party, evening party, a ball or a dance, I was at hand with her wraps, to put them on for her. I was very fond of her, and she was always very polite and kind to me. One evening an old tramp had got in the south grounds. He followed Miss Nellie and her young friend, Miss Annie Barnes, up the south portico steps. Pretty soon they hurried in and told me what had happened, and I went out and brought Mr. Tramp into the main vestibule and sent for the police officer who was out in the grounds. I said to Miss Nellie,

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"I am going to have him arrested." "Oh," said she, "I must see that, as I never have seen a person arrested." She and Miss Annie Barnes seemed much interested in the proceedings. The officer came and put the tramp under arrest, and took him off. He was, apparently, a German.

Miss Annie Barnes and Miss Nellie Grant were great chums. Miss Barnes lived right opposite the White House where the French Ambassador now lives, on H Street, between Seventeenth and Eighteenth Streets N. W. She would spend a great many evenings with Miss Nellie at the White House, and would take dinner there often. After dinner, Miss Nellie would come to the glass door and I would be at the main entrance; she would say, "O Pendleton [like Mrs. Lincoln used to do], come here a minute! What time do you go home?" I said, "About half past nine in the evening." "I want you to see Miss Annie Barnes home." "All right, Miss Nellie, I will do so with pleasure." Then she would say, "Now, Pendleton, don't forget; let us know when you are ready to go." Miss Annie Barnes was the daughter of the Surgeon-General of the United States Army, and a

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very pleasant, lively young lady she was, too. She is now dead.

One night, while the President was at dinner, quite a fine looking young woman, well-dressed, came up to the door and wanted an audience with the President. I saw very soon that she was mentally unbalanced. I thought that possibly she was of Scotch descent--she was very persistent in trying to get an audience with the President. Finally I got her away by telling her she would have to come some other time, as the President was at dinner and would not see any one that afternoon. That seemed to satisfy her and she went away.

One Christmas Eve they were all sitting in the library. The President sent for me to come there. He handed me two notes. The first one he told me to take to Mr. Galt, the jeweler; the second one, to Mr. Steinmetz, the furrier. I took the first note down and gave it to Mr. Galt. They were quite busy in the store, it being Christmas Eve. He read the note, and he scrutinized me thoroughly up and down. He read it over the second time--if I remember rightly. He said, "Did General Grant send this note?" Said I, "He did." He looked at me with some suspicion,

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then wrapped up and handed me a case, about the size of a letter, filled with gold lockets. Then I started out. "Now," said I, "I have more than I bargained for, to take care of all this jewelry." Then I went to Mr. Steinmetz, who knew me very well. In Galt's they did not know me at all.

They filled out the order for some very nice furs, and wrapped them up and gave them to me. I got on the car and felt very uneasy about the jewelry, on account of the number ofpeople on the car. When I went upstairs and delivered the two packages, I said to Mrs. Grant, "The man down there in Galt's looked very suspiciously at me," and she laughed heartily. After they had examined the lockets thoroughly (I don't remember whether the General made any selections or not--probably he did), he handed them back to me, and said, "Go down and tell Mr. Galt to send up some others, that I want to examine them further." When I got there the second time there was no scrutinizing, but he very readily handed me out the lockets, and I went to the White House with them. After the President made his selection, I returned the rest to Mr. Galt.

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General Grant was a remarkable man. He displayed more patience than any President I ever saw in the White House. Once he came downstairs to take a drive in his buggy. The buggy was not there. He smoked his cigar, and waited and waited. He walked up and down the portico, and would "right- about" in regular army style, and walked up and down, and smoked again, and after waiting until the patience of an ordinary man would have been worn out, Albert finally appeared. Instead of railing out at Albert for his slow appearance, he said something pleasant to him, took the reins and drove off.

Mrs. Grant was a very pleasant lady, indeed. She was very kind-hearted. There came to the White House after dinner one evening a young man who was a stranger here who had been robbed and thrown down an areaway near the City Hall the night before. He seemed to be very anxious to see Mrs. Grant, and I got to talking with him and found out, to a certain extent, what his trouble was. I went up and saw Mrs. Grant and she listened to me while I explained the situation to her; then she said, "Go down and find the particulars from him, and how far

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from home he is now, and let me know." I went down and did as she told me, and went back and told her all that the young man said for himself. I think then she further said, "Find out how much money it will require to take him to his home." I did so and reported to her. She handed me enough money to pay his fare back to the West. I came down and gave it to him and he went away happy.

On one Sunday afternoon quite a number of boys were playing around the old fountain in the south grounds, near where the Marine Band gives its concerts now. One of the larger boys took off the hat of one of the smaller, and threw it in the fountain. Mrs. Grant hurried down to me and said, "Pendleton, go down and get that little boy's hat out of the fountain; he is crying for it." I started down, but before I got there one of the other boys had picked the little fellow's hat out, and they all scampered away in haste at sight of me.

During General Grant's administration, his daughter, Miss Nellie, was married to Mr. Algernon Sartoris, as everybody remembers. The wedding was a grand affair. She was married in the East Room, right in the centre

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of the three windows on the east side. There was a beautiful marriage bell suspended over her head. The four large columns supporting the girders were all entwined with the beautiful National colors. Palms and other plants were artistically placed about the room, the windows were closed, and the room was brilliantly lighted. The effect was beautiful in the extreme. The procession formed upstairs in the western portion of the building. There were twelve, bridesmaids. All marched down the grand stairway in the west end of the building, through into the East Room where, as I said before, the ceremony took place. There were about three hundred invited guests. In a line with the grand corridor there were a naval officer and an army officer on one side and a naval officer and an army officer on the other side, who held blue and white ribbons parallel with the white pillars, up to where the ceremony took place. After the ceremony was all over the invited guests repaired to the Red Parlor; that is, the ladies did, and I had the pleasure of presenting to them the wedding cake--put up in little white boxes about six inches long and three inches wide--for them to dream on, that those who

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were single might dream of their future husbands.

After Miss Nellie had sailed for Europe, one night after dinner the President took a walk downtown, and everybody had left the house with the exception of Mrs. Grant, Jerry Smith, the old colored duster, and myself. When the President had been gone probably fifteen minutes, Mrs. Grant, who was sitting in the Blue Parlor, seemed very lonesome. She called me away from the front door to come in near the Blue Parlor door and be seated, as the house was perfectly deserted except for us three. While I was sitting there the conversation turned to Miss Nellie. I said to her, "I am very sorry, Mrs. Grant, that Miss Nellie has gone away. We all miss her very much." Mrs. Grant spoke up and said, "Yes, and we will have her back home again." I chatted with her until the President returned and then took my post again at the front door.

During his term in the White House the President returned from Long Branch unexpectedly, one evening very late. He called me upstairs into the office, which is now used as the Cabinet Room. He had before

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him a great pile of papers to be signed. He had pulled off his coat and hat and was trying to keep cool, as the weather was intensely hot. As fast as he would sign one of these documents I would move it aside in order to give him a chance to sign the next one, and so on. He said to me, "Pendel, I wish you would go over to the home of the Secretary of the Treasury, Mr. Boutwell." It was situated where the Shoreham Hotel stands to-day. I said, "Mr. President, there is no one at the door but me to-night; what shall I do, go down and lock the door, and put the key in my pocket?" "Yes," said he, "that will keep everybody out." I started at once to Mr. Boutwell's house, and when I got there and rang the bell, everybody was out, and the house all shut up. I returned to the White House, unlocked the door, and went up and reported to the President.

General Grant was certainly a grand man. The day of his second inauguration was one of the coldest days I ever felt here. The West Point cadets had been ordered to Washington to take part in the inauguration parade. They had marched up to Washington Circle, past the Executive Mansion, and in so doing--it

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was intensely cold and they had no overcoats on--one of them was freezing to death while in the ranks. Word of this fact came to the White House and Mrs. Grant heard of it. She had the young man brought over to the White House immediately and I put him to bed, covered him up nice and warm, gave him a strong stimulant, and Mrs. Grant said to me, "Now, Pendleton, I want you to look out for this young man and take good care of him." Late in the afternoon, after the procession was all over, he came around all right so that he was able to get out of bed, and I went down to the hotel with him. Mrs. Grant was very kind-hearted. She had as good care taken of this young man as if he had been her own son.

Mrs. Grant, in holding her drawing-room receptions would always have me stand in the Blue Parlor, ready, in case she should want to give an order of any kind when she came down. Sometimes she would come downstairs and forget her handkerchief. "Pendleton, go upstairs and bring me down a clean handkerchief," she would say. She seemed to be quite forgetful of the little articles that go to complete a toilet for receiving. Sometimes she would forget her white kid gloves, and,

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"Pendleton, go up and get me a pair of gloves," would be the order. Then I would have to hunt up the dressing maid, who was usually, about this time, down in the basement taking her dinner; and so it would go. The maid would not want to stop eating her dinner to go up and get the gloves called for, so she would say to me, "You go upstairs, and look in such and such a drawer, in the dresser in Mrs. Grant's room, and there you'll find the gloves."

Sometimes she would forget her fan; some times it would be her ear-rings, and almost invariably, when she would come downstairs ready for her receptions, I would have to skirmish upstairs and try to find what she required, in case I could not induce the maid to go.

One day the General had been out in the hot, broiling sun, and when he returned he was pacing up and down in the grand corridor. The perspiration was rolling down his face, and he had his handkerchief out wiping it off. He was so warm that his handkerchief was soon saturated. I stepped up to him and said, "Mr. President, let me take that handkerchief, and go upstairs and get you a dry

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one." I hurried upstairs and soon returned with one that was nice and dry. He seemed to be gratified at the attention, and continued walking up and down the corridor.

The President had a very spirited pair of horses and a fine buggy. One day he and Mrs. Grant came down together and I helped to assist her into the buggy and they started off at a pretty rapid gait. They hadn't been gone a great while, when they returned also at a pretty rapid pace--so, rapid that Mrs. Grant was rather afraid to sit behind the horses the way the General had them going. I assisted her to alight from the buggy and the General then went driving by himself, and you should have seen how he put those horses to their full speed. Every one thought it was a case of runaway, sure.

On one occasion the President gave a dinner party. The "big guns" of the Republican party were the guests--Senators and members of Congress. I recollect Roscoe Conkling came in, and quite a number of other Senators. I would show them into the little waiting-room, assist them off with their wraps, show them into the Red Parlor, hurry upstairs and announce their arrival and names to the

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President. Finally a certain Senator came in; when I went upstairs to announce his name to the President, I left him in the anteroom, but did not show him to the parlor. When I announced his name the President seemed to be very much taken aback. "What!" he said, upon hearing his name, "are you sure?" "Yes, Mr. President, I am sure." He said, "Go downstairs again." Down I came to the little waiting-room, and said to this Senator, "I believe this is Senator--?" "Yes, that's my name." I went back and reported to the President. He seemed to be very much embarrassed. I never saw him so much embarrassed at any time as he was that night. He said, "Go and call the Secretary." I did so, and they had a conference about the Senator downstairs. He then told me to go down, stairs and tell Senator Conkling and one or two others to come up to him. They, too, held a conference about the Senator in the waiting-room. Mrs. Grant was called into consultation also. After a time, when they seemed to have come to a satisfactory conclusion, the President said, "Show him into the Red Parlor." They all passed in to dinner, and I don't suppose up to the time of the

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Senator's death, he ever dreamed of that conference as to whether he should be admitted or not--for he was a red-hot Democrat, and the others were all high Republicans.

At another dinner party there were quite a number invited to whom regular invitations had been sent, and among the guests were a gentleman and his wife who were stopping at the National Hotel. He was promptly on time, but the lady was disappointed on account of the fact that her dressmaker had not finished her dress for that evening, as promised. After they had all gone into dinner, her carriage came driving up at a breakneck speed. I hurried out on to the portico and assisted her out of the carriage; she asked if they had gone into dinner. When I told her they had, she seemed very much embarrassed indeed, and exclaimed, "Oh, what shall I do; what shall I do?" I said, "Madam, don't be worried, it will be all right." That seemed to encourage her and I showed her into the waiting-room at once, then into the Red Parlor as quickly as I could. I hurried into the private dining-room and announced her at once. Col. Fred Grant got right up from the table and stepped into the Red Parlor, and she took his

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arm very gracefully. The ice was thus broken and the embarrassment all over, and she said afterwards she never enjoyed a dinner party more than that one. It passed off very satisfactorily to everybody.

On another occasion there was a state dinner given. Simon Cameron, a United States Senator, the father of Don Cameron, also, as you know, a Senator many years afterwards, was one of the invited guests. The guests had all arrived except Mr. Cameron. They had waited a suitable time for him and were about to start into the state dining-room from the Red Parlor. The President said to me, "When Senator Cameron comes, bring him into the state dining-room, and give him a seat opposite to me." After they had been seated at the table probably half an hour, the Senator made his appearance and had a long hickory staff in his hand. I said, "Mr. Senator, just walk this way," and immediately showed him to the seat kept for him. He wasn't bothered at all about this breach of etiquette, but took things quietly; he sat down to the table and commenced to do justice to his dinner.

One of the most notable occasions was when the King of the Sandwich Islands dined with

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General Grant. He sat on the south side of the table in the state dining- room. There was something transpired the night of that dinner which I never saw before in the White House. The King had three valets, and the chief one you might term his cup-bearer. Those men, all three of them, stood right at the King's back. The chief valet, or cup-bearer, as the courses were served, would take the dishes and pass them to the King. All three of these men wore what you might call regalias, and they were in the shape of ladies' Bertha capes. It certainly was a singular scene in the estimation of an American.

At another time during the Grant administration there was a state dinner given. Quite a number of members and Senators were invited. There was a new member invited on that occasion whom I had never seen before. I asked him if he had ever met President Grant. He said he had not. The President and Mrs. Grant were waiting in the Blue Parlor where they received the guests. I asked him his name, and he gave it to me. Then I presented him with a diagram of the table and showed him where he would be seated. I escorted him then into the Blue Parlor, introduced

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him to the President and Mrs. Grant, who made him feel perfectly at home. He soon mingled with the crowd, and seemed to be perfectly satisfied. On the occasion of Mrs. Grant's drawing-room receptions my position was always in the Blue Parlor, near Mrs. Grant and the President. While one of these receptions was going on, in marched a big double-fisted Dutchman, with his breeches jammed into the top of his raw-hide boots. After he passed by the receiving line, he stepped over to one side of the drawing- room, and dropped down on one of the elegant sofas. Mrs. Hamilton Fish, wife of the Secretary of State, was assisting Mrs. Grant and other ladies in receiving. She said very quietly to me; "Will you please have this man leave the room." I stepped over to him and said very quietly, "Won't you walk into the Green Parlor?" He got up and hustled out, and that was the last I saw of him. During one of General Grant's evening levees, General Michler, who was then Commissioner of Public Buildings and Grounds, failed to put in an appearance at the proper hour. Consequently, when the people began to gather, I began to

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introduce them to the President. I presume I had presented a hundred people to the President, when General Michler made his appearance. Then my duties of introducing ceased, and I took my former position near President and Mrs. Grant.

Just an evening or two before the close of the Grant administration, a great many callers, personal friends, came to say goodbye. Among them were some ladies, and as they were about to take their departure, one of them remarked, "I suppose, Mrs. Grant, you are very glad that you are going to leave the White House?" She replied, "No, I am not." The President and Mrs. Grant were very popular while they were in the White House. The social calling was something immense in the afternoon, and especially in the evening, when I would often have to go into the Blue Parlor and bring chairs into the Red Parlor to seat their friends.

During this period Fred Grant, his son, was married, and they made the White House their home for quite a while. Their first daughter was born there, who is now the wife of a Russian nobleman. Mrs. Fred Grant

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was very handsome. She was just as pretty as a picture. She is the sister of Mrs. Potter Palmer, of Chicago, who is also a very handsome woman. After they left the White House at the close of the administration, they became the guests of Hamilton Fish, Secretary of State during the Grant administration. Upon the outgoing of the Grant and the incoming of the Hayes administration, the ex-President had so many handshakings and good- byes to say, and we were all so busy, that I didn't have an opportunity to shake hands with him, and to say good-bye. The second day after he had gone away from the White House, as nearly as I can recollect, I called on him, was shown into the parlor and had an opportunity to have a good handshake and a good-bye. I then thanked him for his kindness to me during the administration. I didn't see General Grant any more after that until he had made his trip around the world. I called on him again when he returned to Washington. He was then the guest of General Beall, at the corner of Seventeenth-and-a-half and H Streets, which now fronts on Lafayette Square. On this occasion I took

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my autograph album with me, and the General gave me his autograph.

The last time I saw General Grant alive was one Saturday afternoon I met him in the main vestibule of the White House. He said to me, "I would like to take a look at the East Room." I said, "Certainly, General, walk right in." After he came out I said, "General, would you like to take a look through the parlors?" He said, "Yes, I would." After I showed him through the Green and the Blue Parlors, we entered into the Red Parlor. There was in it a very fine portrait of Chester A. Arthur. After he looked at it awhile, he turned to me and said, "Who is the artist that painted that?" I said, "That is by LaClair, of New York, an American artist of French descent." He said, "Oh, yes! He is a very good artist. He is painting a portrait for me now." And that is the painting which is now hanging in the main corridor, leading to the Blue Parlor. It is full life-size, and the best portrait I ever saw of General Grant. A singular incident this, that after he had been President of the United States for eight years, I should be showing him around through the White House.

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Mrs. Grant's father, Judge Dent, in the 85th year of his age, died in the White House, in one of the chambers overlooking the northern portico. His remains lay in state in the Blue Room. He was a thorough Democrat out and out.

[image caption: R.B. Hayes]

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Directly after the inauguration, when they had all returned to the White House, and those who could get in had been in and paid their respects to President and Mrs. Hayes, I picked up her wrap, and started upstairs from the Blue Parlor with her and the President. When we got upstairs, I started to show them the various chambers in the house--bed-chambers, etc. After I had showed them all the bed-chambers, we went into the library, which is directly over the Blue Parlor. It is an oval-shaped room, the same as the Blue Parlor. We proceeded into the Cabinet Room, and I explained that to them, and from that into the President's office, and showed them the rest of the official part of the house, in the meantime introducing them to all employees who were at that time connected with the official household. They then returned to the private part of the house, and rested themselves a little while; then their friends commenced calling upon them, and continued doing so until ten o'clock that night, and we were all very tired when we got through. The next day there were a great many delegations called on the President, and with ladies calling on Mrs. Hayes, we had our hands full that day. In the course of the day the Glee Club of Cleveland, Ohio, called on the President and Mrs. Hayes, who came down to receive them in the Blue Parlor. When the members had been introduced and had shaken hands with them, they stepped out into the main corridor right opposite the Blue Parlor, and sang that grand old hymn, "The Sweet Bye and Bye." The President and Mrs. Hayes both enjoyed it very much I did, extremely so, for it did my soul good. I shall never forget that hymn as sung upon that occasion. The clubs, military organizations, and delegates continued to come, and the social calling was so great in the masses of people who called. Mrs. Hayes was a grand lady, and the White House will never have one to surpass her. After they got settled down and the crowds had left the city, I then had a better opportunity of finding out

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the character of both of them. And the character of both was beautiful! As she would be going out to breakfast through the upper corridor of a morning how often I have heard her singing a beautiful hymn. How kind- hearted she was. Always had a kind word to say to the humblest employee at the White House. Notes would come to the White House time after time from the destitute and poor wanting help. She would have me come upstairs and see her, and would say, "Mr. Pendel, here is some money, and here is a note. Take this, and find out where they live, and give it to them." On one occasion, out on Massachusetts Avenue, there was a young girl, about twenty-two years of age, down with consumption, and Mrs. Hayes said to me, "Mr. Pendel, I want you to take these oranges up to that young lady and give them to her." The doorkeepers at the White House fared well, for hardly an evening passed but we were told to go into the parlor, and take that magnificent bouquet that was standing there. It was during this administration, that General Hastings and Miss Platt were married in the Blue Parlor, under a beautiful marriage bell. It was a very quiet, but a beautiful

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wedding. During the administration they gave the largest banquet in the White House that I ever saw given. Three thousand invitations were sent out, and twenty-five hundred accepted. The state dining room was set with small tables laden with a bounteous repast, as were also the tables in the private dining-room, and after these banquets, everybody would go away happy. During this administration my wife and I celebrated the twenty- fifth anniversary of our marriage. Mrs. Hayes presented us with a half dozen beautiful silver teaspoons, and a sugar spoon lined with gold. Mrs. General Hastings also presented us with a beautiful silver butter knife in a handsome case lined inside with beautiful white satin. I have them at my house and can assure you I am very proud of them.

When they first came to the White House, their youngest son, Scott Hayes, was a little chap running around. Miss Fannie was a little girl. Webb Hayes, and Burchard, and the other son (I cannot recall the name) were all older than Scott. The young people used to have a fine time. Since that time Miss Fannie has matured into womanhood, and married a naval officer. I called upon her once when

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she was residing in the Navy Yard, and had the pleasure of looking upon the interesting little baby, of which she seemed to be very proud. She was very much like her mother in her disposition, being very affable and pleasant. Scott Hayes has long since matured into manhood, and is very handsome and gentlemanly in his manner. Their whole administration was very pleasant indeed. Sometimes I would be showing strangers through the house and would come upon Mrs. Hayes unawares in the Red Parlor. I would almost invariably introduce these ladies and gentlemen to her, and they would go away very happy. On one occasion the steward of the White House, Mr. Crump, lost his little son. I had gone out to see him, and while I was there addressing the father, the President's carriage drove up, and Mrs. Hayes came in, saying, "Why, Mr. Pendel, how do you do?" just as friendly as though she had been one of my own sisters. After she had conversed with Mr. Crump and his wife, and looked at the little son, who was dead, and was about to take her departure, she said, "Mr. Pendel, come out and get into the carriage, and I will take you down to the White House." I

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thanked her very kindly, and told her I was off duty, and was on my way home, in a different direction.

Toward the close of their administration the callers increased. For the last two days I had never seen anything like it. There were more weeping people when they were about to say good-bye than I ever saw in the White House in all my life, and at the outgoing of their administration, and the incoming of the Garfield administration, I was so very busy that I did not have an opportunity to shake hands with either the President or Mrs. Hayes. They became the guests of Senator Sherman, Secretary of the Treasury, and of Mr. Sutton. The next day I went over and had the pleasure of meeting the ex-President and Mrs. Hayes. That was the last time that I ever saw her. President Hayes called at the time poor Garfield was suffering at the White House from the effects of being shot, and that was the last time I ever saw him.

During President Hayes' administration there was a newspaper man who used to slash into him right and left, through the paper with which he was connected, in the most abusive way. The President did not know

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who it was at the time, but after he left the White House there was a commission appointed to go and visit the different prisons throughout the United States. I think Mr. Hayes was the president of this commission. He visited quite a number of prisons, and sometimes would talk with the prisoners. One day while visiting some prison, I do not know where, he got into conversation with a man, a prisoner, who recognized ex-President Hayes, and there he told the ex-President, "I am the man, sir, who abused you so fearfully in the newspaper, and, General Hayes, I want to ask your pardon and forgiveness, for I did you a great wrong." What he had been sent to the penitentiary for, I cannot say. The President said to him, "Do you ever have an opportunity to do any writing in the prison here? If you do, send it to me, and I will have it published in some magazine, and I will send the proceeds to your wife and children to help support them while you are in prison." The man was taken aback at the ex-President's kindness to him, and I think afterwards Mr. Hayes succeeded in having this man pardoned.

[image caption: James A.Garfield]

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The incident most indelibly impressed upon my mind during the Garfield administration is, of course, his untimely and tragic death. I give here the official bulletins.

Preparations for the Worst

Second Dispatch. (The midday bulletin.)

Long Branch, N. J., Sept. 19, 11.45 a. m.--The President's chill this morning was sharp and severe. Unless the chills can be controlled there is but little hope held out by the doctors. Dr. Boynton has just said, "While the case is not hopeless, I have no hope that the President can recover." Much excitement prevails here. All the doctors in the case are despondent.

Third Dispatch.

President's condition is critical.

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Fourth Dispatch.

Early risers here were gladdened this morning by the statement from Attorney-General MacVeagh that the President had had a very comfortable night, but while the doctors were preparing the bulletin, they were suddenly called to attend the patient, who was found to be suffering with a severe chill, which lasted fifteen minutes, and was followed by profuse perspiration.

At 11 o'clock he was quietly resting. MacVeagh said to a friend, "The President grows weaker. We are more anxious."

Dr. Boynton said he would be apt to rally from this chill, but there was very little ground for hope of his recovery. Dr. Bliss says that the doctors agree that the original trouble is the wound, the consequent trouble is blood poisoning, which caused pus formation on the lungs. His rigor, they say, proceeds from his debilitated system. Dr. Agnew says that when they opened the abscess in the parotid gland he felt that the beginning of the end had come. He is reticent, but it can be noticed by his manner that there is no hope. The surroundings at Elberon are dismal enough; sorrow sits on every face, and

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people talk low and walk slowly as in the presence of death. Each word from the sick room is eagerly caught up, and the gloom deepens as time progresses.

Fifth Dispatch.

Dr. Boynton thinks there is danger of sudden death. The President fully aware of his condition.

Sixth Dispatch.

A recurrence of chills dreaded. Dr. Agnew expects the President will be unconscious many hours before death. Members of Cabinet disheartened.

Seventh Dispatch.

The doctors astonished at the President's vitality.

Eighth Dispatch.

Next to hopeless.

Ninth Dispatch.

Dr. Agnew does not expect death to-day. The President spent a quiet night, on account of his extreme exhaustion. The morning rigor accompanied by vomiting.

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The Vice-president Ready

New York, Sept. 19.--Vice-President Arthur remained in his house all morning, receiving but few callers. A reporter called on him, but the Vice- President declined an interview, sending word that he had received nothing but the official bulletins. He had previously stated that he was ready to obey any summons made by the Cabinet, and he hoped that the President's strong constitution and the careful nursing he received would enable him to resume his executive duties.

Boston, Sept. 19.--Hon. R. T. Lincoln, Secretary of War, left Northampton, N. H., for Long Branch this p.m. He has hopes of the President's recovery.

About noon to-day Attorney-General MacVeagh telegraphed the War Department as follows about the President:--"Another chill at 10.30, and outsiders look for death at any moment. Doctors try to dispel this feeling, but without avail." A few minutes later the following dispatch came also from the Attorney-General: "Chill still continues. Pulse now 140, and growing weaker."

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Effect of the News

There is no longer any hope existing in the public mind for the recovery of the President. Even those people here in Washington who have hitherto maintained a blind faith in a happy issue of this national sorrow, now abandon all hope. The general expectation is that the news of the President's death will be received before many more hours. Every heart is grieved. There is a gloom over the entire city. Business is almost at a standstill, and the nation awaits with bated breath the sad tidings which are inevitable.

Word was received at noon stating that Mrs. Garfield abandoned all hope. This broke the faith of even the most sanguine that the President would recover. The prevailing feeling seemed to be that if Mrs. Garfield, who had been so strong in her faith all along, gave up, then, indeed, there was no hope. As the afternoon wore on the excitement, which was itself subdued, increased. The crowds began to grow large around the posted bulletins. The general feeling was that the end would come within twenty- four hours.

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Eleventh Dispatch.

Long Branch, N. J., Sept. 19, 2 p. m.--At 2 p. m. the President's condition remains unchanged, and the physicians do not look for another rigor until this evening, when one is expected.

Twelfth Dispatch.

Long Branch, Sept. 19, 2 p.m.--The President is sleeping, and seems to be in a stupor. He grows weaker, but may rally to-morrow, unless he has a chill to-night. There is no hope for recovery felt, but the doctors say it is simply a question of time.

The Vice-President has not as yet been summoned, but is kept informed of the President's condition.

DEAD

A Nation Mourns for James A. Garfield, Its Stricken President

He Passes Peacefully Away, After Suffering Terribly for Eighty Days--The Sad Event in all its Detail.

To-day the mighty nation will lift up its voice and weep, for the long battle for life is

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ended, and the President is dead. Peace and rest have come in mercy to the sufferer, with whose pains the people have suffered all the sad and weary days and nights for many weeks past. His services to his country are written in its history, and the honors bestowed on him by his neighborhood, his State, and the Nation attest the place he held in the hearts of the people.

His wife and children sit in the darkness of a grief which cannot be assuaged. May the Father of all Mercies give them comfort in their affliction.

For all time to come, Americans will mourn the untimely end of James A. Garfield, while the liberty-loving people of Christendom will do honor to his memory.

A second time in the history of the Republic is the Nation called upon to mourn the loss of its Chief Magistrate at the hands of an assassin. In the case of the lamented Lincoln, the infamous crime was surrounded with dramatic incidents, and occurred at a time when there was some excuse for unbridled passion. The shooting of President Garfield can be traced to no other cause than the wild act of a man either surcharged with malice

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or crazed by his own misfortune. The mourning of the people for his untimely taking off is genuine and sincere. Men of all shades of political opinion grieve at his loss, and the deep feeling of horror at the atrocious crime and detestation of the assassin is not confined to the personal or political friends of the dead President, but is universal.

He was President over the whole land; his life was the property of the whole people. His afflicted family have the sympathy and condolence of a whole nation, and for the delicate woman who is now a widow tears will be shed by strong men and noble women in every village and hamlet in the Union.

Special to The Republican.

Long Branch, Sept. 19.--The President died at 10.35. It came like a stroke of lightning. There was scarcely any warning. About twenty minutes before the event, he was found to be suddenly and swiftly sinking. Restoratives were sent for in all haste, and all the attendants were summoned. It was too late. It was in vain. Almost before the full group and the medicine came, he breathed his last. The correspondents engaged a whole

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force of carriages, and were driven, pellmell, to the Elberon. They got there just in time. In two minutes after their arrival on the stoop, Warren Young came slowly walking over to the hotel from the cottage. "What is the news?" "It is all over," he said; "he is dead."

It justified the familiar metaphor. It was a stroke. Death is always sudden, but rarely a more complete surprise than in this case. There had been a pyæmic chill in the morning, to be sure, of such a significant character as to cause Dr. Bliss to say the next in the series might be fatal. But as the day wore on without further incident, he seemed easier and brighter, and something like hope fluttered up out of despair. Dr. Bliss met the journalists with a good deal of his characteristic assurance. He took pains, however, to say that he did not mean to take an optimistic view, and did not wish to be understood that there was an improvement. Still, there was a negative gain in a stationary condition. The evening therefore began quietly. All immediate danger seemed over. Dr. Boynton had said, indeed, that death was possible to-night, but

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he did not regard it as probable. The correspondents made their plans to cover a remote contingency, and began on their stories of the day. At ten o'clock, therefore, the Elberon Hotel was almost deserted. The scene about the cottage was dark and lonesome; the stars shone dimly; it was very murky, and the heavy surf beat like a cataract on the beach. The President was lying quietly with the nurses who watched by his side. They were General Swaim and Colonel Rockwell. Dr. Boynton was also near at hand.

Suddenly the attack came, and in a few moments the awful danger of death loomed up before the attendants. The colored help was dispatched with all speed to call the doctors, and get a few necessary articles.

The commotion did not escape the newspaper sentries. Inquiries were hastily made, and the fact discovered that a mortal crisis was at hand. The next moment it was flashed over the country, while the great body of correspondents were summoned by telegraph to their quarters at the West End Hotel, nearly two miles distant. The operator dashed out of his little closet by the hotel door, too much excited by the news to state it plainly, but before

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it was posted the tidings had spread, that the President was rapidly sinking, and all the doctors had been summoned to the bedside. All that could be learned was that a messenger had been sent for mustard, and that another had gone to summon the doctors. It was evident that a sudden and unlooked for crisis had come. What it was, we could not for the moment know, but some one was pretty sure to come from the cottage before long, and until then we must be patient. Soon an under-secretary of the White House force, who had been one of the President's attendants here, came out and was met by the reporters. "What's the matter?" was eagerly asked. The secretary, Mr. Warren Young, was silent, and walked on two or three steps without replying. At length he said, "It's all over." The voice was gentle and the tones were low, but those three words were in one minute more heard from one end of the country to the other. The scene which followed the announcement was one of a lifetime. There was an instant cry of woe and horror. No one had dreamed of such news. At the worst we supposed it was another chill. "Dead! Dead! Dead!" went from one to

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another in a whisper. A nervous shudder went through the crowd. Then someone, alive to journalistic duty, started at full speed for the telegraph stand, in the adjoining office of the hotel. His motion was contagious, and the next instant there was a wild rush for the wire lattice of the office. "You can't file anything," shouted the operator, "the Government has taken possession of the wire." There was nothing else to do but to rush to the West End.

By Associated Press. Long Branch, Sept. 20.--Previous to his death, the only words spoken by the President were that he had a severe pain in his head. It is supposed by the surgeons that death was occasioned by a clot of blood forming on the heart. Dr. Bliss was the first one notified of the President's expression of pain, and upon entering the room he at once said that the end was near. The members of the family were immediately summoned to his bedside. All arrived, and perfect quiet prevailed, and Mrs. Garfield bore the trying ordeal with great fortitude, and exhibited unprecedented courage. She gave way to no paroxysms of grief and after death became evident, she quietly withdrew to her

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own room. There she sat, a heartbroken widow, full of grief, with too much Christian courage to exhibit it to those around her. She, of course, was laboring under a terrible strain, and, despite her efforts, tears flowed from her eyes, and her lips became drawn in her noble attempt to bear the burden with which she had been afflicted. Miss Mollie was, naturally, greatly affected, and bursts of tears flowed from her eyes, notwithstanding her noble effort to follow the example of her mother.

The death scene was one never to be forgotten. Perfect quiet prevailed, and there was not a murmur heard while the President was sinking. After death the body was properly arranged by Dr. S. A. Boynton. Telegrams were immediately sent to the President's mother, in Ohio, and to his sons Harry and James, who are now at Williams College; also, to Vice-President Arthur, and other prominent men. Eugene Britton, of Long Branch, the coroner of Monmouth County, will hold an inquest over the body of the late President. He has as yet made no arrangements for the inquest, and, as far as can be ascertained, he has not yet been notified

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of the President's death. The body will be embalmed and an autopsy will take place tomorrow afternoon. Dr. Curtis, of Washington, has been asked to come here in company with the attending surgeon, who recently withdrew from the case, namely, J. K. Barnes. J. J. Woodward and Robert Reyburn are to be present when it is made.

Arrangements for the Funeral will be made in all respects in accordance with the wishes of Mrs. Garfield. Nothing has yet been definitely determined upon, but it is expected that a special train will leave here on Wednesday, for Washington, and the President's remains will lie in state in the rotunda of the Capitol during Thursday and Friday. On Friday evening, it is expected that the body will be taken to Cleveland, where it will lie in state during Sunday, and the funeral will take place on Monday. The place of interment will be Lake View Cemetery, at Cleveland, in accordance with the frequently expressed wish of the President in his lifetime. Of course the arrangements are subject to alterations.

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Attorney-General MacVeagh says that Mrs. Garfield is bearing her affliction with the fortitude with which she has borne her trials so long, and is as well as could possibly be expected under the circumstances. The following telegram was received by Attorney-General MacVeagh:

New York, Sept. 19.

Hon. Wayne MacVeagh,

Attorney-General, Long Branch.

I have your telegram, and the intelligence fills me with profound sorrow. Express to Mrs. Garfield my deepest sympathy.

Chester A. Arthur.

Elberon, N. J., Sept. 20, 2.30 a. m.

The following has been received from New York:

Wayne MacVeagh, Long Branch.

Please convey to the bereaved family of the President my heartfelt sympathy and sorrow for them in their affliction. A Nation will mourn with them for the loss of a Chief Magistrate, so recently called to preside over its destiny. I will return to Long Branch in the morning to tender my services if they can be made useful.

U. S. Grant.

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The Cabinet Announce His Death

Long Branch, Sept. 20, 12.25 a. m.--Attorney-General MacVeagh has just sent the following to Vice-President Arthur:

It becomes our painful duty to inform you of the death of President Garfield, and to advise you to take the oath of office as President of the United States without delay. If it concurs with your judgment, we will be very glad if you will come here on the earliest train to-morrow.

William Windom,
Secretary of the Treasury,
William H. Hunt,
Secretary of the Navy,
Thomas L. James,
Postmaster-General,
Wayne Macveagh,
Attorney-General,
S. J. Kirkwood,
Secretary of the Interior.

Steward Crump's Story

The Dead President--An Interesting Incident of His Life.

Steward Crump was found late this morning, sitting in the hall at the foot of the east

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stairway of the White House, and surrounded by nearly all of the attachés of the White House who are now in the city. He had heard the awful news of the President's death through The Republican extra, which he had heard the boys crying on the streets, just as he was going to bed. At two o'clock a. m. he had received no dispatches from Mr. Brown or Colonel Rockwell, but expected to do so at every minute, and intended remaining up all night. He said that the house can be put in complete order for the reception of the President in a couple of hours, should the remains be brought here. The East Room is yet in complete order, and only a portion of the rooms downstairs have been cleared out. Mr. Crump was much distressed at the sad news, and said that he had had all the time the strongest faith that General Garfield would get well. He said, "He was always so cheerful and had so much nerve. Why, he used to astonish me with his jokes, even while he was suffering horribly. Suffer? I should say he did. The first week or ten days it was his feet. He kept saying, 'Oh, my God! my feet feel as though there were millions of needles being run through them.' I

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used to squeeze his feet and toes in both my hands, as hard as I possibly could, and that seemed the only relief he could get. The day he was shot and on Sunday he kept talking all the time, but Monday he let up some, and then Tuesday morning the doctors shut down on his talking. Sunday morning, just after the big crowd had cleared away, I was alone with the General and Dr. Bliss. The Doctor sat on one side of the bed and I on the other. General Garfield had hold of Dr. Bliss's hand, and turned his head and asked me if I knew where he first saw Bliss. I told him I didn't, and he then said he would tell me. He said that when he was a youngster, and started for the college at Hiram, he had just fifteen dollars--a ten dollar bill in an old leather pocketbook, which was in the breast-pocket of his coat, and the other, five, was in his trousers pocket. He said he was footing it up the road, and as the day was hot, he took off his coat and carried it on his arm, taking good care to feel every moment or two for the pocketbook, for the hard-earned fifteen dollars was to pay his entrance at the college. After awhile he got to thinking over what college life would be like, and forgot all about the

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pocketbook for some time, and when he went to look for it, it was gone.

"He went back mournfully along the road, hunting on both sides for the pocketbook. After awhile he came to a house where a young man was leaning over a gate, and who asked him as he came up what he was hunting for. Garfield explained his loss, and described the property, when the young man handed it over. The President by this time was laughing, and concluded, 'That young man was Bliss, wasn't it, Doctor?' The Doctor laughed and said yes, and when General Garfield said 'he saved me for college,' answered, 'Yes, and maybe if I hadn't found your ten dollars you wouldn't have been President of the United States.' The President laughed at that, and said that if he got well, and made any mistakes in his administration, Bliss would have to take the blame."

The Dead President

Dead! The President! Aye, and murdered, too! The vilest deed that fiendish hate could do Hath laid him low! The President is dead! A Nation, horror stricken, bows its head,

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And, like to him, o'ercome by poignant grief, Finds no expressions for the heart's relief.

Yes, he is dead! He, who to loftiest rise Of Fame's high summit, toiled beneath the eyes Of watching millions; whose success was won By earnest, honest work life's labor done-- Now lies enveloped in a sweet repose, Though honors dark presaged life's evening's close.

Words are but feeble things at best. They grow Too weak to sound the lowest depths of woe, E'en when a Nation mourns its heavy loss; But when affection's gold is turned to dross, Ah! then, what language can express the thought Of them that suffer thus, what death hath wrought!

But yesterday, a man--now, lifeless clay! But yesterday, the President! To-day He fills a niche in Fame's historic hall, And in those hearts that loved him. That is all!

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'Tis all; but yet enough; for none are left To hate. With one accord, like one bereft Of near and dear ones, all the people bow And bind the cypress on his stricken brow.

J. S. Slater.

By the Associated Press.

New York, Sept. 19.--In accordance with the dispatch received from the Cabinet in regard to taking the oath of office, messengers were sent to the different Judges of the Supreme Court. The first to put in an appearance was Judge John R. Brady, who was closely followed by Justice Donohue. The party, comprising the Vice-President and the judges named, besides District Attorney Rollins, and Elihu Root, and the eldest son of the new President, assembled in the front parlor of No. 123 Lexington Avenue (General Arthur's

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residence), where the oath of office was administered. The President has not signified his intentions as to when he would visit the Capital, and he declined to be interviewed as to his future course.

Special to The Republican.

New York, Sept. 20--12.30 a. m.--The first news of the President's death was announced at the theatres, the managers announcing briefly the sad event, and dropping the curtain upon the closing scenes of the performances at the various theatres. The news was received here without special excitement on the street, though at the Fifth Avenue Hotel, and other places of resort of prominent politicians, stock operators, etc., there was much comment as to the incidents of the late President's illness and the possible change of the policy and personnel of the incoming administration. Such comment was expressive strongly of sympathy with the late President, and confidence in President Arthur. It is authoritatively asserted that President Arthur will leave New York early this morning for Washington, and will reach the National Capital during the day, where he will take the oath

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of office as President. A train over the Pennsylvania road has been at his disposal for several days past, in anticipation of the death of General Garfield. The announcement has not been received here as yet regarding funeral arrangements. At half-past twelve o'clock, it is reported that General Arthur will join the Cabinet of the late President, at Long Branch, at once.

The Capitol Draped in Mourning

Long Branch, N. J., Sept. 20.--Sergeant-at-arms Thompson, who is here, has telegraphed to drape the Capitol in mourning and have a catafalque built upon which to place the remains. The body will leave here some time to- morrow morning. The hour will be known definitely after the consultation with respect to an inquest, and the New Jersey law applicable thereto. This consultation is now being held between the United States Attorney for this district and the attorney for Monmouth county.