Subscribers enjoy higher page view limit, downloads, and exclusive features.
Books—Art—Music N By Lucy Salamanca. HE dramatic role it has played in the Roosevelt administra- tion has occasioned a renewed interest in that body of som- ber gentlemen to whom we referred casuslly, in other years, as “the Su- preme Court.” Only latterly have the comings and goings, the ponderings and decisions rendered on the part of our esteemed justices been reported on the front pages of the public press. Only latterly have we witnessed the unprecedented excitement with which such judgments have been awaited. “The Supreme Court, s a matter of fact, has become, astonishingly enough, “good copy,” and as a result there is today no spot more popular with the visiting American people than that luxurious retreat, softly-diffused with filtered shafts of light, Wherein the Supreme Court sat, more or less unmarked by the public, for three- quarters of & century. Today visitors jn the Capital of the United States seem unanimous in their desire to visit first the erstwhile chamber of this cignified judicial body. On May 28, 1934, a Senate resolu- tion by Mr. Robinson, of Arkansas was considered, amended and agreed to in the United States Senate. It read: “Resolved, That the court room now occupled by the United States Supreme Court in the Capitol, When vacated by the court, and the space below it formerly a part of the court room, shall be preserved and kept open to the public under such rules and regulations as may be prescribed by the Architect of the Capitol with the approval of the Committee on Rules of the Senate.” That is why today there is a new shrine in the Capitol Building, and groups of visitors from 9 in the morning until 4 in the afternoon, under the supervision of the Capitol guides, stand in awe and admiration before the narrow mahogany gate that bars entrance to the small, but beautiful room the justices have so recently vacated. EVERYTHING has been left in the old Supreme Court Chamber ex- actly as it was when occupied by the eminent justices. Today, as thgn, » soft radiance pours from the cir- cular glass windows in its high domed ceiling. Today, as then, its tall, wide window back of the justices’ dais are draped in crimson brocade and the high-backed chair of the Chief Jus- tice rears its buff-colored broadcloth back in the exact center of the line of small mahogany desks padded in black felt before which sat his col- leagues. ¥ The crimson velvet carpeting on the floor, completely covered in a design of blue and green; the black- Jeather benches that line the walls, and the mahogany and leather _sents facing the rostrum, where the citizens gave ear with cool detachment in other years to the pronunciamentos of the august body—all these will be preserved to our descendants _under the Senate resolution. Thus it set up another historical landmark, in the story of & Governmental branch that grew from such insignificant beginnings that it was scarcely re- ported in the public press and was shunted from cubby-hole to. cubby- hole whenever room could be made for it temporarily in the Capitol Building, to a position of supreme power and occupant of & building costing millions of dollars, unsur- passed among the world’s most beau- tiful structures. In 1935 and 1936 pages of news- papers all over the country were de- voted to pictures of the new home of the United States Supreme Court. Hundreds of thousands of words of copy were devoted to the court’s ac- tivities and judgments. Yet when the first Supreme Court to meet in ‘Washington came to the Capital in 1801, the only notice that was taken, mpparently, of that momentous event, was contained in a line or two that appeared in the National Intelli- gencer in Washington on February 5, 1801: “The Justices of the Supreme Court,” announced the Intelligencer, “have made & court, the following Justices being present, viz, Marshall, Cushing, Chase and Washington.” Moreover, it was not until as late as January, 1801, that any attempt was made to provide the court with a place for its approaching session. The Supreme Court of the Nation found itself in the embarrassing po- sition, literally, of® having robes but no place to hang them. A very mild suggestion came forward from the District Commissioners: ““As no house has been provided for the Judiciary of the United States,” said the Commissioners meekly, “we hope the Supreme Court may be ac- commodated with a room in the Capitol to hold its sessions until turther provisions shall be made, an arrangement, however, which we ‘would not presume to make without ‘the approbation of Congress.” PRXOR to its removal to Washing- ton the Supreme Court had held two terms in New York and a third term at the new City Hall in Phila- delphia, the Congress having moved its location from New York to that city. The court had been established by an act approved by President George Washington on the 24th of September, 1789, “to_establish the Jjudicial courts of the United States.” This act provided not only for & Supreme Court of the United States, was fixed for the first Monday of February and another session for the first Monday of August. But as the following . That on February 1, 1790, took place in the Exchange Building at the foot of Broad street in New York City. %o have been in 1796, when & com- r mittee of the House of Represent- atives stated that a “building for the Judiciary” should be provided in establishing the permanent seat of Government. It was suggested by Alexander White, one of the Federal Commissioners, in 1798, that the handsome sum of $100,000 be con- sidered and “merely for considera- tion,” inasmuch as no plan had as yet been agreed upon or even pro- posed for housing the Judiciary. Mr. White went on to say, however, “the immediate erection of that edifice is not considered so essential as houses for the accommodation of Congress, of the President and the executive offices.” What a shock the white marble structure opposite the Library . of Congress on Caiptol Hill would | give the cautious Mr. White today! Curbed, perhaps, by the criticism in 1800 that the White House and Capi- tol were “much too extravagant, more so than any palace in Europe,” that they were built in “extravagant style and that gentlemen blushed on ac- count of the magnificence displayed,” Congress took no steps to accommo- date the homeless court until, the day following the mild suggestion of the District Commissioner, the Senate resolved that “The Secretary be di- rected to inform the Commissioners of the City of Washington to use one of the rooms on the first floor of the Capitol for holding the present ses- | sion of the Supreme Court of the United States.” THIS Iater led to some confusion in the mind of the public attempting to locate the first Supreme Court room, for claims were made in some quarters that the present law library in the Capitol Building provided the court’s first quarters. This is not the case. The law library occupies, as a matter of fact, the basement floor of the Capi- tol, and the first floor of the structure is directly above. The Senate cham- ber was lccated on the basement floor on the east side, and this chamber, 2 room 48 by 86 feet, was 41 feet high, its gallery occupying the same level as the first floor of the Capitol and opening from it. It was a small room on this same first floor that opened into the Senate gallery that was the first home of the Supreme Court in ‘Washington. This room was then known as the Senate clerk’s office. Today it is the private office of Chesley Jurney, sergeant at arms of the United States Senste. The chamber is small for the accommodation of a court, being only 24 feet wide, 30 feet long and 21 feet high, but in these cramped quar- ters the Supreme Court sat from 1801 to 1808, It is a very beautiful room today, one semi-circular wall containing a marble fireplace, and with a tall, wide window hung in crimson brocade. From its ceiling is suspended an elaborate and magnificent crystal chandelier. After 1808, when it was decided to make some structural changes in the Senate chamber, the Supreme Court had to find other quarters temporarily and movéd to a small room on the west side of the main floor, just across the corridor. That room is now used as the disbursing office of the Senate. Meanwhile alterations were under way. A roof was put into the Senate chamber, on the basement floor, and a floor laid above that. This cut off the galleries and formed a smaller chamber, opening from the first-floor corridor. The roof of this upper chamber was in turn raised and other structural changes made, for this chamber was being made ready to ac- commodate the Senate. On July 25, 1808, President Thomas Jefferson had written to Latrobe, who was then architect and surveyor of public build- ings, suggesting that these alterations be made, and that the Court be accommodated in the lower cham- ber when the Senate moved upstairs to the new chamber on the first floor. Something of this sort had to be done. As early as 1805, the small room originally occupied by the court on the first floor—the present office of the sergeant at arms—had become wholly insufficient. Latrobe “The crowd of citizens that sometimes at- tend the court and necessarily fill the passages and vestibules, disturb the lerdslative proceedings as well” It was he who first proposed the plan to . b FEATURES * EDITION ny St News of Churches B WASHINGTON, - D. C, SATURDAY, JANUARY 16, 1937. OLD QUARTERS OF HIGH COURT MADE NATIONAL SHRINE BECOME GOAL FOR VISITORS Story of Judicial Department Linked for Many Years With Legis- lative Branch, Until Provided With Palatial Home, Admired by Capital Tourists. d (1) In this small room, now the office of the sergeant at arms of the Senate, the Supreme Court sat from 1801 until 1808. tribunal. Horydczak Photo. chamber in the United States Capitol, recently vacated. (4) View inside the new Supreme Horydczak Photo. (2) The new marble temple of the Nation’s highest (3) The Supreme Court Court chamber. The center drapes behind the bench are parted to show the door to the office of the Chief Justice. Star Staff Photo. accommodate the judiciary on the entire basement floor, after altering the space above for the accommoda- tion of the Senate, T THE close of the 1809 term the Supreme Court was forced to vacate the small room it was occupy- in temporarily on the west side of the first floor, for it was turned over to the Senate for its special May session. looking about for quariers, had to take refuge in one of the Washington hotels during part of 1809 and 1810, for Latrobe wrote on January 3, 1811: “The expenses of fitting up and furnishing the court room, having never been estimated by me or con- templated by the words of any law- making appropriation for the public buildings, I took no steps whatever to fit up or furnish the room, until the propriety of so doing was urged by the judges of the court, who had been obliged to hold their sittings at a tavern.” However, by the time the February term of 1810, repairs had oeen so far completed that the Supreme Court was able to take possession of its new quarters in the basement of the Capitol, under the new Senate chamber. A noted Philadelphia lawyer, Charles J. Ingersoll, has pro- vided us with the following vivid description of this new chamber: “Under the Senate chamber is the hall of justice, the ceiling of which is not unfancifully formed by the arches that support the former. The Judges in their robes of solemn black are raised on seats of grave ma- hogany; and below them is the bar; and behind that an arcade, siill higher, so contrived as to afford auditors double rows of tefrace seats thrown in segments round the irans- verse arch under which the judges sit . . . When I went into the court of justice yesterday, one side of the fine forensic colonnade was occupied by a party of ladies, who, after loiter- ing some time in the gallery of Rep- resentatives, had sauntered inio the hall, and were, with their attendants, sacrificing some impatient moments to the inscrutable mysteries of plead- ing. On the opposite side was & group of Indians, who are here on a visit to the President (papa to the savages), in their native costumes, their straight black hair banging in plaits down their tawny shoulders, with mocassins on their feet, rings in their ears and noses and large plates of silver on their arms and breasts.” Tal Supreme Court continued to this chamber—and the Senate the chamber on the floor di- rectly above—until the burning of the Capitol on August 24, 1814, when British troops collected tar barrels found in the neighborhood, heaps of books from the library, and broken furniture, to which m:mm-e_vm: rockets. Glenn Brown’s “History of the Cap- itol” relates that Latrobe later to : “Great efforts were made to destroy the court room, which was built with uncommon solidity, by collecting into it and setiing fire to the furniture of the adjacent rooms. By this mesns the columns were The much harassed court, | cracked exceedingly, but it still stood | and the vault was uninjured. It was, however, very slenderly supported and | its condition dangerous.” On September 19, 1814, the Thir- ' teenth Congress was forced to meet for its special session in an old hotel on the corner of Eighth and E streets northwest, but not even a temporary refuge was as yet suggested for the Supreme Court. Ag the 1815 term of the court neared, provision was made for the Congress in an especially erected house at the corner of A and First streets northeast, known as the “Brick Capitol,” but the court was still without quarters. The clerk of the Supreme Court, Elias Boudinot Caldwell, came to its rescue, offering the house which he then occupied, “‘east of the present Capitol and south of the ‘Brick Capitol,’” as temporary quarters. Thus the large double house at 204-206 Pennsylvania avenue south- east was the soene of the court until the 1817 term. In the less ruined portion of the north wing of the Capitol an office was temporarily fitted up for the use of the courf in 1817, and here it sat for two terms. This office was de- scribed by a contemporary writer as “a mean apartment of moderate size, dingy and little better than & dun- geon.” By 1819 the rebuilding of the Capitol had progressed to an extent that made it possible for the Supreme Court to move back to its chamber under the Senate chamber, which was also reoccupied by the Senate at the time the Supreme Court moved in downstairs. DESCRIPTIONB of this court room written at the time, or shortly after, indicate that it was by no means & luxurious or palatial chamber. One writer declared: “The apartment is not in a style which comports with the dignity of that body, or which wears a comparison with the other halls of the Capitol * * * A stranger might traverse the dark avenues of the basement for a week without finding the remote corner in which justice is administered to the American Repub- lic * * * & room which is hardly capa- clous enough for a ward justice. The apartment is well finished, but the experience of this day has shown that in size it is wholly insufficient for the accommodation of the bar and the spectators who wish to attend. Many of the members were obliged to leave their seats to make room for the ladies. It is a triangular, semi-circular, odd- shaped apartment with three windows and & profusion of arches in the ceil- ing, diverging like the radii of a cir- cle from s point over the bench. * * * spectators, which is an awkward cere- mony and destroys the effect intended to be produced by assuming the gown.” Meanwhile with the years, work ‘was going forward on the new Senate wing of the Capitol and the Senate Chamber, which was under construc- tion in this wing, was announced ready for occupancy. Hence, on Tues- day, January 4, 1859, Vice President John Cabell Breckinridge requested the secretary to read the report with respect to arrangements made for (Continued on Page B-3.) x ' ' INAUGURAL TALES | Every Quadrennial Has Its Distinctive Inci-| dent Which Has Found Place in Annals of Successive Holders of Leadership. By Elizabeth Ford. ! O TWO inaugurations have ever | been exactly alike. They have & way of happening—differ- ently. There is generally some incident that sets one ceremony apart from another and starts the “Remember when” stories. What will it be this January? As = result of a misunderstanding beiween Gen. Andrew Jackson and John Quincy Adams, the latter deco- rated his military successor with the first and only inaugural snub in his- tory. Adams did not appear at the Capitol with Jackson, but spent the day in the suburbs of the city with | his friend, Commodore Porter. This misunderstanding was the out- growth of Jackson's belief that the maligning tongues of his political ene- mies had helped to cause the death of his wife, and he counted Adams among those at fault. Whether or not this was actually so, Jackson, when he finally reached Washington omitted the usual courtesy call at the White House and devoted his time to his old friends in the War De- partment. Adams, stung by this neg- lect, refused to take part in cere- monies on the 4th of March. Feeling, therefore, was feverish, and the original inaugural escort at- tached to Adams declined to offer its services, At the last minute, a num- ber of old Revolutionary veterans saved the situation and marched with Jackson up Pennsylvania avenue. Adams, horse-back riding in the country, heard the salute of guns from the Arsenal and the Navy Yard and knew that once more he was just s private citizen. ‘This was the day of day for crowds. ‘They began by nearly mobbing the general at the Capitol—in a good- natured way. The only thing that saved him was a ship’s cable stretched across the portico, which had been placed there in the event of such an emergency. Daniel Webster wrote to a friend: “I never saw such a crowd. Persons have come 500 miles.” Some of these persons were hunters from Kentucky, Indian fighters from Tennessce and frontiersmen from the Northwest. For 24 hours Washington was a wide-open town. AT THE recepiion at the White House the guests succeeded not only in smashing up most of the china and glassware, but they stood on the damask and satin-covered chairs with their muddy boots to catch & glimpse of Jackson, who was pushed against the wall and unable to move in the melee. Laie that afternoon he and Vice President Calhoun slipped away to & quiet meal. They dined on sirloin from a prize ox sent to them by John Merkle, a butcher of Franklin Mar- ket in New York City. Eight years later, Webster must have been more surprised than ever. The crowds, when Martin Van Buren became President, were so great that the city was not big enough to hold them. Van Buren's inauguration will{ gled Banner” and “Hail Columbi always be remembered for the fact that = distinguished party of Bos- tonians, unable to find proper lodg- ings, spent the night as recumbent as possible in the chairs of a barber shop. There were hundreds who slept on bundles of hay. In the grav morning Jackson rose, haggard, from & sick bed. He and Van Buren rode to the Capitol in & carriage made of timbers from the Constitution. The wood of the phaeton was unpainted, but varnished until it shone, and on the door panels were pictures of famous Old Ironsides. Jackson's own horses, with brass- mounted harness. were used to draw the vehicle. Made in Amherst, Mass., it was the love-gift of 60 of Van Buren'’s admirers. Afier the carriage came & proces- sion of Cavalry and Infantry and sev- eral Democratic political organizations. Punctually on the stroke of 4 that afternoon the entire diplomatic corps arrived in a body at the White House. 1t was headed by Don Calderon de la Barca. Van Buren, so worn out by the heavy demands of the day that he hardly knew what he was saying, greeted them as the “Democratic corps,” and apologized handsomely for it afterward. When James Buchanan became President, Washington was besieged again with record crowds. The over- population problem was adroitly solved by having extra persons sleep in circus tents at 50 cents & head. BRAHAM LINCOLN was seldom at a loss for a story. This is one that he told on himself about his first inauguration, in 1861. On his way to Washington with his son, Robert Lincoln, he stopped in Harrisburg, Pa. Before leaving Springfield he had written his inaugural message, and the manuscript, after being carefully edited, had been set in type by his friend, the local printer. There were four copies, all intrusted to Robert, who carried them in a “grip-sack.” “When we reached; Harrisburg,” said Lincoln, “and had washed up, I asked Robert where the message was and was taken aback by his confession that he had let & waiter take the grip- What President pulled a boner while receiving the diplomatic cor{a on a certain March 4? Whose little daughter was frightened while her father was de- livering his inaugural add: ress? Who was inaugurated twice in three days—the firsi time secretly? PAGE B—1 | sack. My heart went up into my /| | mouth and 1 started downstairs, where 1 was told that if a waiter had taken the article I should probably find it |in the baggage room. “Hastening there, I saw an immense | pile of grip-sacks and other baggage . and thought that I discovered mine. ‘I'ne key fitted—but on opening it there | was nothing inside but & few paper ' collars and a flask of whisky. | “Tumbling the baggage right and | left, in & few minutes I spied my lost | | reasure and in it the important docu- ment.” | Washingion, at the time of this in- auguration, bristled with detectives, | bodyguards and sharpshooters, pre- pared to meet any possible attacks from the Secessionists, who, many believed, might attempt to hamstring the Government under cover of the general confusion. From the White House to the Capitol and from the Capitol to the White House, guns were constantly primed on the crowds that surged around Lincoln’s carriage. Gen. Scott, with his headquarters in | a restaurant near the War Depart- ment, was ostensible director of ar- rangements, but while he rode about in his coupe, drawn by four powerful horses, Col. Stone quietly took care of the plans for the day. | When Lincoln began to spesk at the Capitol, he was greeted by oniy a faint cheer. He wore a new silk hat and carried | & gold-headed cane. He put the cane | on the rough wooden boards of the | table in front of him, but hesitated [ & moment, wondering where to place | his splendid and shining stovepipe. | Senator Douglas, who was sitting | nearby, saw Lincoln's embarrassment, | and, rising, took the hat and held it | carefully in his hand while Lincoln delivered his address, | T}ERE is little doubi thai mosi Presidents-elect have never slept very well on the 3d of March. We | know that James Buchanan spent a resiless night. On his arrival in | Washington he had taken a suite of rooms at the National Hotel. When his friend, W. W. Corcoran, learned of | this he insisted that Buchanan should | come to his house and stay there un- | til his inauguration. Delighted to| | escape the rigors of hotel life, Buchan- | | an accepted with pleasure. | | As the hours went on toward mid- | | night the city quieted down and the | last loiterers followed their shadows | home. Twelve o'clock struck—muffied. And then, a second later, on the clear, | frosty air rose the first note of what | the papers described the following | morning as & “serenade.” | _The band of the Charleston City | Guard had gathered beneath Buchan- an's window. Its repertoire was not unlimited—but its wind was. For | those who listened, including Mr. | Buchanan, it played “The Star Spa . | until the early morning light. ! Gold-laced Col. Selden, chief mar- | shal, had more aides that 4th of March than he could shake a stick at. There were 30 of them. The parade was magnificent. In line were the Light Battery of the 1st | Regular Artillery, 24 companies of Vol- unteer Militia, including the Albany Burgess Corps, the Lancaster Fen- cibles, the Willard Guard from Au- burn, N. Y., and a German rifle com- pany from Baltimore. There was also & flag pole 70 feet high, on & car drawn by six horses, and a miniature man o’ war rigged up by the Washington Navy Yard. ‘The inaugural ball was held in a temporary annex to the City Hall. Flags of all nations draped the walls and the wooden ceiling was covered with & white cloth studded with gold stars that twinkled in the light of | large gas chandeliers. SPEAKmG, however, of real mag- nificence, nothing could touch the supper served at the inauguration of James A. Garfield. This feast was held in a building specially put up for the purpose. Five hundred people sat down at a time. There were 1,500 pounds of turkey, 100 gallons of oysters, 50 hams, 350 loaves of bread, 2,000 biscuits, 1,000 rolls, 200 gallons | of chicken salad, 15,000 cakes, 150 gal- lons of ice cream, 50 gallons of jelly, 50 gallons of water ices and 250 gal- lons of coffee. Garfleld’s mother attended the cere- monies at the Capital on a 4th of March that was typical—chilly and wet. Gen, Sherman, the chief marshal, had mustered an escort of 12 com- panies of Regular Artillery and 6 companies of Marines. Garfleld and Rutherford B. Hayes, the outgoing President, rode with Sénators Bayard and Anthony. The Columbia Com- mandery of Knights Templar, of which Garfield was & member, was the guard of honor. Vice President Arthur, destined to succeed Garfleld, rode with Senator Pendleton. ‘The procession that followed was composed of the Cleveland Grays, the Utica Veterans in their continental uniforms, the Utica Citizens’ Corps, the Maryland 6th, the Boston Fusiliers, & company of Pennsylvania Volun- teers, members of the Grand Army, midshipmen from Annapolis, local militia companies and the Signal Corps. Later in the afternoon these units were augmented by others, and ‘Washington saw its largest military display since Civil War days—e parade | 5 | scene of that took five hours to pass the presi- dential reviewing stand. That evening the new National Museum, just completed, was the the ball. Wooden floors were laid down by the acre and waxed for dancing. The heroic Statue of Liberty in the rotunda of the build- ing was considered the tour de force of the occasion, and vastly admired. "I"HE whistles of steam enginas from the Washington Fire Department saluted Ulysses S. Grant at his firse inauguration. The guns from a light battery stationed near the Capitol also paid their respects and a dozen bands played frantically. There was 50 much noise that Grant's little daughter became frightened and rushed to her father's side for pro- tection. He held her hand while he | delivered his address. The ball was given in the new north wing of the Treasury Departe ment, and Horace Greeley com= plained that the single narrow flight of stairs was insufficient for all the crowds. Grant’s second inaugural took place in extremely cold weather. The bit- ter day was the source of a story that has a Munchausen flavor. When the procession was about to start from the White House, the cold, it is said, was so intense that the musicians in the band were unable to play. Their breath condensed in the valves of their instruments, Some of the cadets from West Point were forced to desert their posts, half frozen from a gale that galloped across the city like a herd of wild buffaloes. The 1st troop of Philadelphia Cavalary, however, stayed to the bleak end, and carried its historic flag, presented in 1775, | the first flag to bear 13 stripes. After dark, lanterns and calcium lights blew and flickered along Pennsylvania avenue. People who had paid $20 to dance at the inaugural ball, which was held in an unheated building, left the scene before midnight. They never took off their coats and hats, and forsook the champagne and punch for coffee and hot chocolate. Gen. Zachary Taylor was inaugue rated on the 5th of March. Ruthere ford B. Hayes was inaugurated on the 5th and the 3d—twice 1 three days, JFIAYES' rival for the presidential prize had been Samuel J. ‘Tilden. The elections were so close that it | was undecided at first just exactly who had won. Many people believed that it was Tilden. Senator Chand- ler telegraphed from New York to President Grant, however, that Hayes had 185 votes and was elected. This was tke beginning of con- fusion en masse. In the next few days the telegraph wires all over the country were crackling with contra- dictory reports and political messages, some of them in cypher. Senator Morrill, who had been requested by the Rothschilds to inform them who was to be the next President, sent a message on Wednesday that the re- sults were in favor of Tilden, but on Friday he said they were in favor of Hayes. Grant wrote Hayes that he believed he had been lawfully elected. Wild rumors circulated that Tilden would claim the election by force. Finally it was agreed that there should be an Electoral Commission composed of five Senators, five Rep- resentatives and five associate jus- tices of the Supreme Court. The | Commission met, recounted the votes and subsequently announced that there had been 184 ballots for Tilden | and 185 for Hayes. Hayes arrived in Washington on the morning of March 2, and was met by Senator Sherman and his brother, Gen. Sherman. In the after= noon he went to the White House to pay his respects to President Grant. They talked for half an hour, but those who were there said afterward that politics was not mentioned. It so happened that the 4th of March fell on Sunday and the cere- mony was delayed until Monday, March 5. Tension was so high, ho ever, that it was felt that Tilden's supporters, on account of the extra day, might attempt violence. On the evening of the 3d Hayes ate tended @ party at the White House, During the evening he was taken quietly into the red room, and there, in the presence of two or three inti- mate friends, he took the oath of office which made him President of the United States. None of the other guests was aware that anything une usual had taken place. On the 5th, with Washington filled to capacity once more with inaugural crowds—30,000 had come from New York City alone—Rutherford B, Hayes was inaugurated a second time, on the steps of the Capitol. Maj. Whipple was his chief marshal, and his escort was formed of United States troops, volunteer Militia from the District, Philadelphia Militia, a Baltimore representation and a galaxy of fire engines. Nothing very remark- able in that. Yet only & handful of persons realized how well all this, in this particular case, was just & “ghow.” Proving—every inauguration hap- pens—differently.