_ CHAPTER XXVII. WHICH TREATS OF MANY THINGS UNIQUE AND WONDERFUL, ALL OF WHICH TOOK PLACE WHEN THE MAJOR ARRIVED AT THE GREAT ST. NICHOLAS HOTEL
So great was the anxiety of the reporters to jot down the most trifling occurrence, that they followed close at the heels of the juvenile rabble, and at times were in great danger of getting their heads cracked by the missiles hurled by the infuriated alderman, who, in his heart, had a holy horror of such persons, and would have killed a dozen of them without shedding a tear, though they had several times made very intelligible English of his very unintelligible speeches. Fatigued and almost out of breath, they, however reached the grand hotel in good time, and quite took possession of the landlord's best parlor, though he was as polite a gentleman as could be met with in a day's journey. They then entered his gorgeous bar-room, and partook freely of his liquors, (of which he kept none but the best,) telling him that as they were without money, he must charge the score to the freedom of the press. The host being accustomed to the pranks of these worthy men, as they are called by their employers, bid them take comfort in his house; at the same time, knowing their propensities, he cautioned them against making free with his chambermaids.
The cortége had been proceeding at a slow pace, which so increased the difficulties they met from the ragged urchins along the road, that the driver whipped up and arrived at the hotel in peace. But this rather increased than diminished Alderman Dooley's difficulties, for old Battle being unable to quicken his pace, the urchins made him the object of their mischief, and so retarded his progress that the major had arrived full half an hour when he reached the hotel. In truth, he was compelled to dismount and lead the animal, in order to secure his own safety.
The reception at the hotel, as it appeared on the following morning in the newspapers, was something truly magnificent, proving conclusively that the reporters had seen no less than one hundred persons for every one present. My love for truth in all matters of history constrains me to say, that these reporters made a great mistake, since nothing could have been more simple, and yet in keeping with true greatness, than the major's reception at the hotel, and this for the very reason that he had outdistanced the rabble. My declining years and gray hairs forbid me envying any man his laurels, but I will not degrade a noble profession by making myself the vassal of every great man who sets foot on these shores. I say, then, that when the cattle and the major reached the door of this spacious pile of white marble, wherein cheap luxury awaits the million, it was near sundown, and the only persons standing at the grand entrance, were those eight or ten bediamonded gentlemen who carry on their occupation in suspicious places, and are commonly called swell mobsmen, though judging from the air and circumstance with which they occupy the great entrance to the great St. Nicholas, it would seem as if the landlord had employed them for the double purpose of ogling ladies as they passed and holding up his marble columns. I should indeed be sorry to hear that this was true, for an extremely respectable acquaintance tells me the landlord is a most excellent gentleman, and looks well to the reputation of his house.
As the carriage stopped the major cast a glance upward, as if viewing the curiously wrought lintels of the massive marble front, and exclaimed: "Upon my soul, gentlemen, it is so grand I begin to fear I shall not be comfortable in it." He had scarcely concluded this sentence, when a distinguished politician, habited in soiled drab trousers and a shabby brown dress coat, and a badly collapsed hat, which he wore well down over his eyes, rushed eagerly out, and was followed by a mellow faced policeman, with a green patch over his left eye and a club in his right hand. Constituting in themselves a committee of reception, the distinguished politician, who was a delegate from the custom house, now made himself right busy in getting the major and the high functionaries safely out of the carriage. And this being done without delay, the policeman ordered the swell mobsmen to stand back until the distinguished politician had presented his congratulations, which he did, adding that he had long been familiar with the potency of the major's greatness, which the city, unlike other cities, was always ready to honor.
The strange figure cut by the major, in his stranger uniform, attracted the attention of sundry enthusiastic chambermaids, who appeared upon the balconies, and recognizing in the character of the team the arrival of an important personage, commenced waving napkins, and giving such other visible signs of their admiration, that he was with difficulty restrained from making them a speech on the spot.
He now moved quietly into the house, the jaded policeman on his right, and the distinguished politician on his left, and followed by the three high officials and a score of reporters. Turning neither to the right nor the left, he proceeded straight on into the great bar room, where the queerness of his walk and raiment attracted no little attention among the well dressed gentry who nightly meet there to discuss over well compounded punches all affairs appertaining to the welfare of the state. And here, having quenched their thirst in mixtures of whiskey and water, which is the favorite drink with all really great politicians, the party quietly retired up stairs to a splendidly furnished parlor and bedroom, provided at the expense of the city, against which a score of six shillings now stood at the bar.
A sudden commotion in the street, accompanied by shouts and huzzas that made the very air echo, discovered the fact that Alderman Dan Dooley had arrived. Indeed, the scene that at that moment was being enacted in Broadway beggared description, and caused a great scampering among the reporters, who hastened to the spot in order not to lose a single occurrence. There stood old Battle, bespattered with mud, and in a condition so pitiable, that no truly philanthropic gentleman could have withheld his tears. Near him stood Mr. Alderman Dan Dooley, excited, distracted, infuriated, and swearing by all the saints in the calendar, to have revenge of a swarm of unwashed and ragged urchins, who stood jeering him at a respectful distance, and whom his sudden advances and retreats rather amused than daunted; for although they seemed in no way inclined to stand his charge, they would follow his retreat with renewed energy. A waiter now relieved the animal of the saddlebags and holsters, and taking him by the bridle led him limping to the stable, where he seized with great avidity the hay and oats set before him. A second policeman, according to a well respected custom among the force, came up when all the trouble was over, and addressing the discomfited alderman, said: "If I had been a minute sooner, sir, this thing would not have occurred; but I was called from my beat to quell a brush at fists between two of our common councilmen, at Florence's. I now come to your protection; and as you are a worthy gentleman, whom it is my office to obey, say but the word and I pledge you my faith to club the heads of every one of your persecutors. But first let me entreat you to get into the house, and if my club fail not, you shall see how I can keep the peace."
The alderman listened with great attention to the policeman, converted his rage into discretion, and disappeared in the great bar room of the St. Nicholas, where he forgot his afflictions in a stout draught of water and whiskey, which so addressed itself to his dignity, that after ordering it charged to the city's account, he repaired quietly into the presence of his true friends, who had already began to unite in compliments to the major. "Now, meiger," spoke Mr. Alderman Dooley, approaching the major, with his right hand extended, "understand that it's we that are the riprisintitives of this mitropilas, in which ye're as wilcome as the flowers of May. Mind that now! And may the smiles of heaven rest upon ye, an' upon the gineration ye bilongs to. Gifts, meiger, are given to the great for a pirpose. Faith, it's my own exparience tells me that! Whisht now! (Here he tapped the major confidentially on the arm.) The city manes to do ye 'oner enough, oneyhow. An' its myself and Terry Brady 'll see the pay comes." Terry Brady was the name of the distinguished politician. Mr. Dan Dooley now being, as he said, "entirely done out," flung his hat under the table and himself upon a luxuriant sofa, carved in black walnut, and upholstered with green and orange colored brocade. And upon this he felt great comfort for his feet, while the high colored figures of the Turkey carpet afforded him an excellent target for the substance he ever and anon ejected from his spacious and discolored mouth.
And, too, my high regard for the fair guests of the great St. Nicholas, of whom it was said by these malicious reporters that they rushed "en masse" to receive the major, immediately he entered the house, reminds me that I must not forget to mention, that the only ladies present were the wife of the distinguished politician, and a damsel of fair looks and firm virtue. I am no higilian, and only use the term "firm virtue" here, as being applicable to this damsel; for although no end of slanders had been cast upon her, the man who dared to come forward and say he had trifled with her chastity, was yet to be found. By these, I freely confess he was received with a courtesy worthy of so great a politician.
And now, when it was night, and two thousand jets of gas threw a blaze of light over the massive pile, which seemed suddenly transformed into a regal palace, where high colors and cheap revelry went hand in hand, the party, joined and rejoined by several other distinguished politicians, refreshed themselves on a sumptuous supper, which the landlord had prepared without regard to expense. And when this was over, and the major's arrival had got fully noised about, there came such a throng of rejected humanity that the house presented the appearance of a palace beseiged by bread rioters. And so impassioned did the clamor of the throng become, that I thought if Saint Nicholas, who was supposed to be the presiding deity of this hotel, could look down upon it without a frown, he must be an uncommon saint. In fine, the landlord found that getting so great a politician into his house was not much to its reputation, as the eclat therein gained would be counteracted, with tenfold interest, by the pilfering propensities of his unwashed followers, who now rushed into his house in such ungovernable confusion that guards had to be stationed along the passages, armed with tipstaffs and bludgeons. Indeed, he wished in his heart that the devil or some other gentleman of quality had Major Roger Sherman Potter, for then he could preserve the good name of his patron saint.
Persons of every political hue and circumstance poured in, were presented to the major, and drank of the liquors which were being ordered without stint and despatched with the same freedom by the honorable committee of reception. And thus they came, and drank great draughts, and complimented one another. And although not a few marveled at finding the major such a queer person, and quite unlike what he had been represented, all joined in drinking his health and flattering his vanity. And when it was ten o'clock, there came divers delegations of ungainly persons, (from the custom house, and the post office, and Tammany Hall, and various other halls,) such as fighting men and vagabonds, who, being headed by such ambitious politicians as the invincible George Branders, and flanked by the too honest Emanuel Hart, presented an appearance so suspicious that the guests of the house began to look well to their pockets, while the landlord set several of his servants to gathering up the old clothes. Indeed, it seemed as if rascaldom had broken from its dominions to revel in the palace of St. Nicholas. And as all these shabby gentlemen, but very excellent politicians, stood much in need of something to quench their thirst, it was soon found that the small sum set apart to pay the landlord for all his services, would not even wipe out the score at his bar, to say nothing of the damage done his furniture and other little affairs. He had given bed and board to many a man without getting a dime in return, and thanked heaven that good fortune had enabled him to do so, but now he was not a little disturbed in his temper at the state of his accounts, for he knew the city was as slow to pay an "over ordered" bill as it was quick in paying homage to great demagogues. He therefore, in the kindest manner, intimated to the major, that unless he would be personally responsible for the "surplus," he must close the score at his bar. And this he said in self-protection, for no man could lay the charge of having done a mean act at his door. The major, with becoming courtesy, pledged his honor to the landlord, and bid him think no more of the bill, since if he closed the floodgate of his bar, which gave out such exuberant medicine as made the tears of patriots to flow, his power would surely be at an end. "Be not agitated, sir," said he, with an air of enlarged self complacency, "but convert your misgivings into confidence in me, for I see you are a true republican, and would not harm a man whose fame is so well established." Thus the major addressed the landlord, who retired with regained confidence, and, as I thought, a feeling of self reproach for having intimated his doubts in the matter.
The major was now getting weary with the mighty business of receiving the compliments of ten score would-be patriots and noisy politicians, when there entered a greater man than any of them. And this was no less a person than Don Fernando, a man of much will and circumstance, and now mayor of the city. Many things had been said of this truly great man, not the least of which was, that the Romans ought to be thankful that he was not born in the days of the C'sars, though in the honest yearnings of his ambition he had frequently indulged in the thought, that his wisdom and invincibility of arm was second to none of them. Indeed, it was said among other things, equally true, that he had more than once consoled himself with the fact, that if he had not gained the notoriety of C'sar, it was no fault of his will, for he could make promises he never meant to keep, and gnash his teeth at his enemies, to an extent that ought to satisfy the most enthusiastic admirer of Roman greatness. But republicanism, as developed by the prudence of our people, had so changed and altered things, that great men, though they had performed unheard of deeds of valor, were laughed at when they assumed powers not clearly belonging to them.
As the design of this history will be imperfect unless I record what took place when these great men met, and which ought to be read and considered by future generations, I must here inform the reader, that he will find it faithfully translated in the next chapter. _