Perley's Reminiscences Part 6

The old General sprang to his feet. "The last allusion," said he, "is unworthy of a gentleman. Totter, sir, I totter! Though some twenty years older than the gentleman, I can yet stand firm, and am yet able to correct his errors. I could take a view of the gentleman's course, which would show how consistent he has been."

Mr. Clay exclaimed, angrily: "Take it, sir, take it--I dare you!"

Cries of "Order." "No, sir," said Mr. Smith, "I will not take it.

I will not so far disregard what is due to the dignity of the Senate."

While Mr. Clay was generally imperious in debate, and not overcautious in his choice of phrases and epithets, he was fond of a joke, and often indulged, in an undertone, in humorous comments on the remarks by other Senators. Sometimes he would be very happy in his ill.u.s.trations, and make the most of some pa.s.sing incident. One afternoon, when he was replaying to a somewhat heated opponent, a sudden squall came up and rattled the window curtain so as to produce a considerable noise. The orator stopped short in the midst of his remarks and inquired aloud, what was the matter; and then, as if divining the cause of the disturbance, he said: "Storms seem to be coming in upon us from all sides." The observation, though trivial as related, was highly amusing under the circ.u.mstances which gave rise to it and from the manner in which it was uttered.

When Henry Clay returned to the Senate, Daniel Webster yielded to him the leadership of the Whigs in that body, but in no way sacrificed his own independence. "The Great Expounder of the Const.i.tution,"

as he was called, was then in the prime of life, and had not began those indulgences which afterward exercised such injurious effects upon him. He would also occasionally indulge in a grim witticism.

On one occasion, when a Senator who was jeering another for some pedantry said, "The honorable gentleman may proceed to quote from Crabbe's Synonyms, from Walker and Webster"--"Not from Walker and Webster," exclaimed the Senator from Ma.s.sachusetts, "for the authorities may disagree!" At another time, when he was speaking on the New York Fire bill, the Senate clock suddenly began to strike, and after it had struck continuously for about fourteen or fifteen times, Mr. Webster stopped, and said to the presiding officer, "The clock is out of order, sir--I have the floor." The occupant of the chair looking rebukingly at the refractory time- piece, but in defiance of the officers and rules of the House, it struck about forty before the Sergeant-at-Arms could stop it, Mr.

Webster standing silent, while every one else was laughing.

On another occasion, while Mr. Webster was addressing the Senate in presenting a memorial, a clerical-looking person in one of the galleries arose and shouted: "My friends, the country is on the brink of destruction! Be sure that you act on correct principles.

I warn you to act as your consciences may approve. G.o.d is looking down upon you, and if you act on correct principles you will get safely through." He then deliberately stepped back, and retired from the gallery before the officers of the Senate could reach him.

Mr. Webster was, of course, surprised at this extraordinary interruption; but when the shrill voice of the enthusiast had ceased, he coolly resumed his remarks, saying, "As the gentleman in the gallery has concluded, I will proceed."

Mr. Cuthbert, of Georgia, was much provoked, one day, by a scathing denunciation of his State by Mr. Clay for the manner in which she had treated the Cherokee Indians. As the eloquent Kentuckian dwelt more in sorrow than in anger upon the wrongs and outrages perpetrated in Georgia upon the unoffending aborigines within her borders, many of his hearers were affected to tears, and he himself was obviously deeply moved. No sooner did Mr. Clay resume his seat than Mr.

Cuthbert sprang to his feet, and in an insolent tone alluded to what he called the theatrical manner of the speaker. "What new part will Roscius next enact?" said the Senator from Georgia, coming forward from his desk and standing in the area of the hall. He was a man of about the ordinary height, with a round face pitted with the smallpox, small, dark eyes, and a full forehead. As he spoke he twirled his watch-key incessantly with his right hand, while his left was flung about in the most unmeaning and awkward gestures. He twisted his body right and left, forward and backward, as if he were a Chinese mandarin going through a stated number of evolutions before his emperor; in fact, he had "all the contortions of the sybil, without her inspiration." To this display Mr. Clay seemed entirely oblivious, but after Judge White, of Tennessee, had discussed the pending question, Mr. Clay rose, saying, that he would reply to this gentleman's remarks as "they alone were worthy of notice."

In the House of Representatives, during the Jackson Administration, sectional topics were rife, sectional jealousies were high, and partisan warfare was unrelenting. Andrew Stevenson, of Virginia, who was triumphantly re-elected as Speaker for four successive terms, understood well how to keep down the boiling caldron, and to exercise stern authority, tempered with dignity and courtesy, over heated pa.s.sions of the fiercest conflicting character. When he was transferred from the Speaker's chair to the Court of St.

James, John Bell, of Tennessee, an old supporter of General Jackson, became his successor for the remainder of that session, but at the commencement of the next Congress Mr. Van Buren secured the election of James K. Polk. Mr. Bell, on his next visit to Nashville, threw down the gauntlet, in an able speech, and nominated Judge White.

This was the foundation of the White party, which had, as its editorial henchman, the Rev. Mr. Brownlow, known as "the fighting Parson," who soon acquired a national reputation by his defiant personalities in debate and by his trenchant editorial articles in the newspapers of East Tennessee. Mr. Brownlow was at that time a tall, spare man, with long, black hair, black eyes, and a sallow complexion. He was devoted to the Methodist Church and to the White--afterward the Whig--party, and the denominational doctrines of immersion and the political dogmas of emanc.i.p.ation from slavery were objects of his intense hatred.

While Mr. Stevenson was Speaker, General Samuel Houston, who had been residing among the Indians on the Southwestern frontier for several years, came to Washington. Taking offense at some remarks made in debate by Mr. Vance, a representative from Ohio, Houston a.s.saulted and severely pounded him. The House voted that Houston should be brought before the bar and reprimanded by the Speaker, which was done, although Mr. Stevenson's reprimand was really complimentary. That night a friend of General Houston, with a bludgeon and a pistol, attacked Mr. Arnold, of Tennessee, who had been active in securing the reprimand, but the latter soon got the best of the encounter.

The first man elected to Congress as a representative of the rights of the laboring cla.s.ses was Eli Moore, a New York journeyman printer, who had organized trades unions and successfully engineered several strikes by mechanics against their employers. He was a thin, nervous man, with keen, dark hazel eyes, long black hair brushed back behind his ears, and a strong, clear voice which rang through the hall like the sound of a trumpet. He especially distinguished himself in a reply to General Waddy Thompson, of South Carolina, who had denounced the mechanics of the North as willing tools of the Abolitionists. With impetuous force and in tones tremulous with emotion, he denounced aristocracy and advocated the equality of all men. The House listened with attention, and a Southern politician exclaimed to one of his old colleagues, "Why, this is the high-priest of revolution singing his war song." What added to the effect of this remarkable speech was its dramatic termination.

Just as he had entered upon his peroration he grew deathly pale, his eyes closed, his outstretched hands clutched at vacancy, he reeled forward, and fell insensible. His friends rushed to his support, and his wife, who was in the gallery, screamed with terror.

His physician positively prohibited his speaking again, and in subsequent years, when the Democratic party was in power, he enjoyed the positions of Indian Agent under Polk, and of Land Agent under Pierce.

Ransom H. Gillet, of the Ogdensburgh district, was one of the old "Jackson Democratic War-Horses." He was a man of commanding presence, a ready speaker, and a famous manipulator of opinion at Conventions.

By birth a North Carolinian, Churchill C. Cambreleng was by adoption a New Yorker, and by strict attention to business he had become one of the merchant princes of the commercial metropolis. Thirty years of age, with a commanding presence, a good voice, a ready command of language, and a practical knowledge of financial matters, he made an excellent Chairman of the Committee on Ways and Means and leader of the Jackson men in the House.

He carried business habits into Congress, and pa.s.sed much of his time at his desk, laboriously answering every letter addressed to him by his const.i.tuents or others, or carefully examining papers referred to his Committee. But he was always on the alert, and if in debate any political opponent let slip a word derogatory to the Administration, Mr. Cambreleng was at once on his feet with a pertinent retort or a skillful explanation. He was noted for his liberality, and neither the district charities or his needy const.i.tuents ever appealed to him in vain.

The Whigs, during the Jackson Administration, made much of David Crockett, of Tennessee, who was a thorn in the sides of the Democrats, and they succeeded in having him defeated for one Congress, but he was successful at the next election. He was a true frontiersman, with a small dash of civilization and a great deal of shrewdness transplanted in political life. He was neither grammatical nor graceful, but no rudeness of language can disguise strong sense and shrewdness, and a "demonstration," as Bulwer says, "will force its way through all perversions of grammar." Some one undertook to publish his life, but he promptly denied the authenticity of the work, and had a true memoir of himself written and published.

This was a successful literary venture, and he next published a burlesque life of Van Buren, "heir apparent to the Government, and appointed successor of Andrew Jackson," which, in the mixture of truth, error, wit, sense, and nonsense in about equal parts, has certainly the merit even at this day of being entertaining.

Crockett's favorite expression was, "Be sure you're right, then go ahead." When Texas commenced its struggle for independence he went there, and was killed while gallantly fighting at San Antonio.

His son, John W. Crockett, served two terms in Congress, was Attorney- General of Tennessee, edited a paper at New Orleans, and died at Memphis in 1852.

Among the other members of the House of Representatives in Jackson's time were several who afterward occupied high positions in the Federal Government. Franklin Pierce, a courteous gentleman, the son of a brave Revolutionary soldier, had been sent from New Hampshire by a large majority, and laid the foundation of personal friendships upon which he afterward entered the White House as President. Millard Fillmore, hale and hearty in personal appearance, represented his home at Buffalo. He soon acquired a reputation for performing his committee work with scrupulous fidelity, and winning the confidence of his colleagues, while advancing on all proper occasions the interests of his const.i.tuents, who rejoiced when he became President after the death of Taylor. James Knox Polk, of Tennessee, a rigid Presbyterian, an uncompromising Democrat, and a zealous Freemason, was another Representative who subsequently became President.

There were several other prominent men in the House: Richard Mentor Johnson, a burly and slightly educated Kentucky Indian-fighter, who enjoyed the reputation of having killed Tec.u.mseh at the battle of the Thames, was elected a few years later on the Van Buren ticket Vice-President of the United States, but was defeated in the Harrison campaign four years later; and John Bell, a Whig of commanding presence and great practical sagacity, who was afterward Senator and Secretary of War, and who was defeated when he ran on the Presidential ticket of the Const.i.tutional Union party, in 1860.

Elisha Whittlesey, of Ohio, who after sixteen years of Congressional service became an auditor, and was known as "the Watch Dog of the Treasury." Tom Corwin, of the same State, with a portly figure, swarthy complexion, and wonderful facial expression, and an inexhaustible flow of wit, who was not a buffoon, but a gentleman whose humor was natural, racy, and chaste. Gulian C. Verplanck and Thomas J. Oakley, two members of the New York bar, who represented that city, were statesmen rather than politicians. John Chambers, of Kentucky, a gigantic economist, was ever ready to reform small expenditures and willing to overlook large ones. And then there was the ponderous Dixon H. Lewis, of Alabama, the largest man who ever occupied a seat in Congress--so large that chairs had to be made expressly for his use.

General James Findlay, who had served creditably in the War of 1812, was a Jackson Democratic Representative in the days of the contest between "Old Hickory" and "Biddle's Bank." He was a type of a gentleman of the old school, and he recalled Washington Irving's picture of the master of Bracebridge Hall. The bluff and hearty manner, the corpulent person, and the open countenance of the General, his dress of the aristocratic blue and buff, and his gold- headed cane, all tallied with the descriptions of the English country gentleman of the olden time. He was greatly beloved in Ohio, and several anecdotes are told of his kindness in enforcing the claims of the United States, when he was Receiver of the District Land Office, for lands sold on credit, as was the custom in those days. Upon one occasion there had been a time of general tightness in money matters, and many farms in the region northeast of Cincinnati but partly paid for were forfeited to the Government. In the discharge of his official duty General Findlay attended at the place of sale. He learned, soon after his arrival there, that many speculators were present prepared to purchase these lands. Mounting a stump, he opened the sale. He designated the lands forfeited, and said that he was there to offer them to the highest bidder.

He said that the original purchasers were honest men, but that in consequence of the hard times they had failed to meet their engagements. It was hard, thus to be forced from their homes already partly paid for. But the law was imperative, and the lands must be offered. "And now," continued he, "I trust that there is no gentleman--no, I will not say that, I hope there is no rascal-- here so mean as to buy his neighbor's home over his head. Gentlemen, I offer this lot for sale. Who bids?" There was no forfeited land sold that day.

A spirited bronze statue of Jefferson, by his admirer, the French sculptor, David d'Angers, was presented to Congress by Lieutenant Uriah P. Levy, but Congress declined to accept it, and denied it a position in the Capitol. It was then reverentially taken in charge by two naturalized Irish citizens, stanch Democrats, and placed on a small pedestal in front of the White House. One of these worshipers of Jefferson was the public gardener, Jemmy Maher, the other was John Foy, keeper of the restaurant in the bas.e.m.e.nt of the Capitol, and famous for his witty sayings. Prominent among his _bon mots_ was an encomium of Representative Dawson, of Louisiana, who was noted for his intemperate habits, the elaborate ruffles of his shirts, and his pompous strut. "He came into me place," said Foy, "and after ateing a few oysters he flung down a Spanish dollar, saying, 'Niver mind the change, Mr. Foy; kape it for yourself.'

Ah! there's a payc.o.c.k of a gintleman for you."

[Facsimile]

Richard Johnson RICHARD MENTOR JOHNSON was born at Bryant's Station, Kentucky, October 17th, 1781; distinguished himself in the second war with Great Britain, and in the Indian wars; was a Representative in Congress from Kentucky, 1807-1813; was a United States Senator, 1820-1829; was again a Representative, 1829-1837; was Vice-President, 1837-1841; died at Frankfort, November 19th, 1850.

CHAPTER XI.

SOCIETY IN JACKSON'S TIME.

The most elegant estate in Washington in Jackson's time was the Van Ness mansion, built on the bank of the Potomac, at the foot of Seventeenth Street. Mr. John Van Ness, when a member of the House from the State of New York, had married Marcia, the only child of David Burns, one of the original proprietors of the land on which the Federal City was located. At that time every able-bodied man between eighteen and forty-five (with a few exceptions) had to perform militia duty, and the District Volunteers, organizing themselves into a battalion, complimented Mr. Van Ness by electing him Major. The President commissioned him, but so strict were the Congressmen of those days that the House investigated his case, and declared that he had forfeited his seat as a Representative by accepting a commission from the General Government. For the empty honor of wearing a militia uniform three or four times a year, and paying a large share of the music a.s.sessments, Major Van Ness lost his seat in Congress.

David Burns died soon after his daughter's marriage, and she dutifully conveyed to her husband, through the intervention of a trustee, her paternal inheritance. With a portion of the fortune thus acquired, Major Van Ness built near the old Burns cottage a villa which cost thirty thousand dollars, and was a palace fit for a king. Entertainments the most costly were inaugurated and maintained in it; wit and song were heard within it, and elegance and distinction a.s.sembled under its hospitable shelter. From its door-step one could see ships from Europe moored to the docks of Alexandria, while gliding by daily on the river beside it were merchantmen from the West Indies, laden for the port of Georgetown.

Major Van Ness and Marcia Burns lived very happily together and had one child, a daughter, who grew into womanhood, married, and died a year after her marriage, ere the flowers in her bridal wreath had faded. Mrs. Van Ness loved her daughter with a love that was idolatry, and with her death she received a blow from which she never recovered. She abandoned all the gayeties of the world, and laid aside her sceptre and crown as queen of society. In the charity school and orphan-asylum, by the bedside of the sick and dying, and in the homes of poverty, relieving its wants, she was found to the day of her death. Her last words to her grief-stricken husband and friends a.s.sembled about her bedside were: "Heaven bless and protect you; never mind me." The Mayor and City Government pa.s.sed appropriate resolutions, and attended her funeral.

Major Van Ness erected a mausoleum after the pattern of the Temple of Vesta, at a cost of thirty-four thousand dollars, and placed within it his wife's remains and those of her father and mother.

The stately pile stood in a large inclosure for years on H Street, beside the orphan asylum which Mrs. Van Ness richly endowed.

Finally the march of improvement, needing all the s.p.a.ce available within the city limits, necessitated the removal of the mausoleum to Oak Hill Cemetery, in Georgetown, where the remains of John Howard Payne were subsequently re-interred.

Major Van Ness himself enjoyed everything that worldly preferment could bestow. By turns he was president of a bank and Mayor of Washington, yet with his ample fortune he was always short of ready money. He was never pressed by suit, however, for his good nature was as irresistible as the man was fascinating; the dun who came with a bill and a frown went away with a smile and--his bill. He lived to be seventy-six years of age, when--like the patriarchs of old--he died, full of honor and greatness, and, leaving no direct issue, his property pa.s.sed into the hands of collateral heirs.

They were sensible heirs, who did not seek to intervention of courts and lawyers for a distribution of their interests, but wisely and amicably distributed them themselves. The law, however, was determined not to be entirely shunned. If the heirs would not go to law, the law was accommodating--it would come to them, and it came with a romance.

One day, soon after the death of Major Van Ness, a buxom, matronly looking dame, in heavy mourning and with tear-dimmed eyes, came upon the scene and claimed a share of the estate. They naturally inquired her name and address, and she modestly, but firmly, told them she was the widow of the deceased by virtue of a clandestine marriage which had occurred in Philadelphia. The heirs mistook her modesty for an attempt at blackmail, and acted as defendants in the suit which she inst.i.tuted. The trial is one of the celebrated cases of the District of Columbia. It lasted upward of a month.

Eminent counsel were in it, and many witnesses came to prove the truth of opposite facts. There was no doubt that Van Ness had known the widow and had visited her, for love letters were read in court from him to her; there was no doubt that some ceremony, sanctioned by a minister's presence, had been performed and a.s.sisted at by both together, but the requisite formalities to const.i.tute a valid marriage were not fully proven, and the jury disagreed.

The matronly dame in heavy mourning did not murmur: luck was against her, and she accepted her luck. She left Washington and never pressed her suit to a second trial, nor further hara.s.sed the heirs.

Miss Ann G. Wright, a cousin of Mrs. Van Ness, created a great sensation in Washington by coming to her house for a home. She was a runaway nun from the Convent of the Visitation in Georgetown, and had been known in the community as Sister Gertrude. No one ever knew rightly the cause of her sudden departure from the convent.

Some said it was disappointed ambition in not being appointed superioress; others, that it was a case of love; but she never told, and the ladies of the convent were just as reticent. She became an inmate of the elegant Van Ness mansion and was a noted and brilliant women in society. It is said that she had written a book, exposing the inner life of the convent, to be published after her death, but I have never heard of its appearance. A few years after she left the convent she accompanied the family of the American Minister to Spain, and resided for some time at Madrid, where she was a great favorite in Court circles.

General Jackson was not cultured or accomplished, but he had a strong, well-balanced mind, and he would go through forests of sophistry and ma.s.ses of legal opinions straight to the point.

Governor Wise, who admired him greatly, used to tell a story ill.u.s.trative of the rough bark of Old Hickory's character. During the Administration of President Monroe, General Jackson, in command of some troops, invaded Florida and captured Arbuthnot and Ambrister, two Englishmen, who, it was charged incited the Indians to depredations. He at once ordered a court-martial and had them hanged, with but little time to prepare for their future place of abode. He was arraigned for the offense before the Cabinet of Mr.

Monroe, and Mr. Adams, the Secretary of State, defended him on the high ground of international law as expounded by Grotius, Vattel, and Puffendorf. Jackson, who had quarreled with Mr. Monroe, was disposed to regard the matter as entirely personal. "Confound Grotius! confound Vattel! confound Puffendorf!" said he; "this is a mere matter between Jim Monroe and me."

Having received a complimentary letter from President Bustamente, of Mexico, General Jackson sent it to the Department of State with this indors.e.m.e.nt: "Mr. Van Buren will reply to this letter of General Bustamente with the frankness of a soldier." When this reached Mr. Van Buren he laughed heartily, as he was neither a soldier nor remarkable for frankness, and the clerks could not keep a secret.

Although many old citizens, whose relatives and near friends had been turned out of their pleasant offices by the Jackson Administration, kept quite aloof from the White House, there was no lack of social enjoyments at Washington. Mr. Forsyth, the Secretary of State, gave a series of b.a.l.l.s, and there were large parties at the residences of Mr. d.i.c.kerson, Secretary of the Navy, Major-General Macomb, General Miller, and other prominent men, each one in numbers and guests almost a repet.i.tion of the other. Mr. Van Buren was at all of them, shaking hands with everybody, glad to see everybody, asking about everybody's friends, and trusting that everybody was well.

Colonel Richard M. Johnson was also to be seen at all public gatherings, looking, in his scarlet waistcoat and ill-fitting coat, not as the killer of Tec.u.mseh, but as the veritable Tec.u.mseh himself.

Mr. Webster was seldom seen at public parties, but Messrs. Clay and Calhoun were generally present, with the foreign Ministers and their suites, who were the only wearers of mustaches in those days.

There were the magnates of the Senate and the House, each one great in his own estimation, with the _chevaliers a'industrie_, who lived as by their wits, upon long credits and new debts, and there were strangers congregated from all sections of the country, some having business before Congress, and others having come to see how the country was governed. Every one, on his arrival, would take a carriage and leave cards for the heads of departments, foreign Ministers, leading army and navy officers, and prominent members of Congress. This would bring in return the cards of these magnates and invitations to their next party.

Mr. Clay was a good _raconteur_, and always had a story to ill.u.s.trate his opinions advanced in conversation. One day, when he had been complimented on his neat, precise handwriting, always free from blots, interlineations, and erasures, he spoke about the importance of writing legibly, and told an amusing story about a Cincinnati grocery-man, who, finding the market short of cranberries, and under the impression that the fruit could be purchased cheaply at a little town in Kentucky, wrote to a customer there acquainting him with the fact and requesting him to send "one hundred bushels per Simmons" (the wagoner usually sent). The correspondent, a plain, uneducated man, had considerable difficulty in deciphering the fashionable scrawl common with merchants' clerks of late years, and the most important word, "cranberries," he failed to make out, but he did plainly and clearly read--one hundred bushels persimmons.

As the article was growing all around him, all the boys in the neighborhood were set to gathering it, and the wagoner made his appearance in due time in Cincinnati with eighty bushels, all that the wagon body would hold, and a line from the country merchant that the remainder would follow the next trip. An explanation soon ensued, but the customer insisted that the Cincinnati house should have written _by_ Simmons and not _per_ Simmons. Who paid the loss history doth not record.

One more of Mr. Clay's stories which he used to tell with dramatic effect: As he was coming here one November the stage stopped for the pa.s.sengers to get supper at a little town on the mountain side, where there had been a militia muster that afternoon. When the stage was ready to start, the Colonel, in full regimentals, but somewhat inebriated, insisted on riding with the driver, thinking, doubtless, that the fresh air would restore him. It was not long, though, before he fell off into the mud. The coach stopped, of course, for the Colonel to regain his seat. He soon gathered up, when the following colloquy ensued: "Well, driver (hic), we've had quite a turn (hic) over, haint we?" "No, we have not turned over at all." "I say (hic) we have." "No, you are mistaken, you only fell off." "I say we (hic) _have;_ I'll leave it (hic) to the com-(hic)-pany. Haven't we (hic) had a turn (hic) over, gentlemen?" Being a.s.sured they had not, "Well, driver (hic)," said he, "if I'd known that (hic) I wouldn't a got out."

The automaton chess-player and other pieces of mechanism exhibited by Monsieur Maelzel were very popular at Washington. The chess- player was the figure of a Turk of the natural size, sitting behind a chest three feet and a-half in height, to which was attached the wooden seat on which the figure sat. On the top of the chest was an immovable chess-board, upon which the eyes of the figure were fixed. Its right hand and arm were extended on the chest, and its left, somewhat raised, held a pipe. Several doors in the chest and in the body of the figure having been opened, and a candle held within the cavities thus displayed, the doors were closed, the exhibitor wound up the works, placed a cushion under the arm of the figure, and challenged any individual of the company present to play.

In playing, the automaton always made choice of the first move and the white pieces. It also played with the left arm--the inventor, as it was said, not having perceived the mistake till his work was too far advanced to alter it. The hand and fingers opened on touching the piece, which it grasped and conveyed to the proper square. After a move made by its antagonist, the automaton paused for a few moments, as if contemplating the game. On giving check to the king, it made a signal with its head. If a false move was made by its antagonist it tapped on the chest impatiently, replaced the piece, and claimed the move for itself as an advantage. If the antagonist delayed any considerable time the automaton tapped smartly on the chest with the right hand. At the close of the game the automaton moved the knight, with its proper motion, over each of the sixty-three squares of the board in turn, without missing one, and without a single return to the same square.

Although positive proof was wanting, it was generally believed that the movements of the figure were directed by a slender person adroitly concealed behind what was apparently a ma.s.s of machinery.

This machinery was always exhibited when in a fixed state, but carefully excluded from view when in motion. It was noticed by anxious observers that no variation ever took place in the precise order in which the doors were opened, thus giving the concealed player an opportunity to change his position. In what was apparently the winding up of the machine the key always appeared limited to a certain number of revolutions, however different the number of moves in the preceding game might have been. On one occasion sixty- three moves were executed without winding up, and once it was observed that it was wound up without the intervention of a single move.