CHAPTER XXI. Reminiscences of Mr. Prentiss, by Balie Peyton. THIS seems to be a suitable place for introducing the following graphic reminiscences, furnished by Col. Balie Peyton, late United States Minister to Chili, and now a distinguished member of the San Francisco bar. Col. Peyton. was one of Mr. Prentiss' old and most devoted friends; nor should his name be mentioned in these pages without a grateful acknowledgment of the fact. In a letter written. but a few months before his death, Mr. Prentiss alludes to it with much feeling. Referring to a certain matter, which had caused him no little trouble, he adds: "The result is much more due to Balie Peyton than to me. Peyton was very indignant at the manner in which I had been treated, and took the thing in hand with such warmth as forced it to a conclusion. I shall not soon forget his friendly action." BALIE PEYTON TO THE MY DEAR SIR: EDITOR. LEGATION OF THE UNITED STATES, * * * Owing to the unexpected departure of Lieut. Phelps, who leaves to-morrow, and has been kind enough to bear to you these sheets, I am prevented from re-arranging and condensing them, as was my intention. With all their imperfections on their head, therefore, I send them to you. One amongst many incidents, which I would have referred to, if more time had been allowed, or rather, if I had not been s much occupied in my official duties, on account of the sever illness of the Secretary of Legation—was the anxiety manifesteď by Mr. PRENTISS, to volunteer for the Mexican war, at the call of Gen. Taylor. He consulted me on the subject, and I strongly advised against it, considering that his family, business, and other causes forbade the step, which I myself found sufficiently embarrassing, when I came to ship off my four motherless children on a steamer to Tennessee. Wishing you all success in your laudable undertaking, I remain, most truly, your friend, BALIE PEYTON. It was in the summer of 1835, at Louisville, Kentucky, that I first met S. S. PRENTISS. In returning with my family from Washington, after the adjournment of Congress, of which I was a member, to my farm in Tennessee, I put up at the Galt House. Before long, our two eldest children, Emily and Balie, about the ages of five and three years, who after the confinement of a small steamer, were enjoying their freedom in the corridor, came running into the chamber, and exclaiming, "Look! what a gentleman has given Balie!" who had a handsome diamond breastpin in his bosom. Their mother immediately sent them with direction to return the pin; but they came back, stating that the gentleman insisted on Balie's keeping it as a present. Shortly thereafter I received a card, with the compliments of Mr. PRENTISS, who invited me to his room. I found him surrounded by a party of friends, to whom he introduced me, apologizing, at the same time, for what he was pleased to term the liberty he had taken, in a manner peculiarly bland and courteous. He then begged "that I would do him the very great favor to permit the child to retain the trifling present he had made him;" adding, "that the little fellow came to him with the utmost confidence when called, told him his name," &c., &c., and urged his request with so much earnestness that there was no resisting him. His was a face that a child would naturally trust at first sight. From this accidental meeting, commenced an acquaintance which ripened into a friendship, the cordiality of which was not interrupted for one moment during his life. The first impression which he made on me, and, as I believe, on every one who approached him, was highly favorable, and not to be effaced. His stature was rather below than above the medium standard, but his chest, neck (which rivalled Byron's), and shoulders, were uncommonly full, erect, and well developed, betokening a fine constitution, and great strength in the arms. His features, taken together, were distinguished for manly beauty, and marked by an expression of unmistakable kindness and benevolence. The high, intellectual forehead, the mild penetration and poetical cast of the eye, and the inflexible resolution, indicated by the lines of the mouth, stamped him, to the most casual observer, as a man of original genius and commanding qualities. I have often heard him repeat an anecdote, which shows how far he was from sensitiveness on account of his stature. In the journey from Louisville to Harrodsburg, where he went for the purpose of appearing in the case of the Wilkinsons, he was accompanied by several friends, and stopped for the night at a country tavern. The landlady, an energetic and free-spoken person, while dishing out the tea and coffee, went round the table, inquiring: "What will you have, stranger, tea or coffee?" "Individual, will you have tea or coffee?" And finally, coming to Mr. PRENTISs, she said: "Little short man, what will you have?" which caused great merriment, no one enjoying it more than the little short man himself. The first time I heard Mr. PRENTISS speak in public, was at New Orleans, in the summer of 1839, as well as I remember the date, while he was on a visit to that city. In compliance with a public invitation, he consented to address the citizens, and with a view to the accommodation of the ladies, who expressed great desire to hear him, the St. Charles Theatre was procured for the occasion. The immense building was filled to overflowing with the beauty and fashion of the city, while hundreds were excluded for want of room. Being one of the committee who escorted him on the stage, my heart sunk at the responsibility 12* VOL. II. of his position; and while the walls shook with the plaudits of the dazzling assemblage, I wondered if it were possible for any man to come up to the extravagant expectations entertained of him by the public. But I was soon relieved of all anxiety on the point, and found myself carried away with the rest, as an atom of chaff borne along by the resistless tempest of his eloquence. He had no subject, no particular theme, no competitor, and yet for two hours he enchained and electrified his audience; not only maintaining his high reputation as an orator of the first order, but even surpassing the public expectation. No man could, at the time, have done justice to this extraordinary effort, and it is not for me, at this remote period, to attempt it. Such were the boldness of his flights, and the abundance and brilliancy of his metaphors, original and borrowed from the poets, of domestic manufacture and foreign growth, that no stenographer could have followed him; nothing short of electricity, or the Daguerrean art, applied to the report of speeches, hot from the mouth of the speaker (which I hope to see accomplished by some Yankee), could have caught and transmitted that meteoric shower of eloquence. "A hero of romance in real life," Mr. PRENTISS was ever inspired by the presence of ladies, and he poured out in profusion before them the choicest gems of his exhaustless fancy. "The ladies! God bless them!" he would exclaim, "in the sincerity of my heart I thank them for their presence on this occasion. I wish I were able to say or conceive something worthy of them; most gladly would I bind up my brightest and best thoughts into bouquets, and throw them at their feet." He went on to speak of the heroic courage and devoted patriotism of the sex in every great struggle for Liberty. "The ladies of Poland stripped the jewels from their delicate fingers and snowy necks, and cast them into the famished treasury of their bleeding country. Our grandmothers, having no jewels, moulded their pewter spoons into bullets, and sent their sons, with Washington, to fight the battles of the Revolution." This is but a dim outline, the cold skeleton, of some of his concluding remarks, complimentary to the female portion of his audience. Such was the effect produced by this wonderful speech, that all were desirous of again enjoying a similar treat, and it was determined to give him a public dinner, as a well-merited compliment, and also to afford many who were unable to procure admittance to the St. Charles, an opportunity of hearing him. In the course of a few days the affair came off, when he made one of the happiest dinner-table speeches I ever heard; all his exquisite imagery and classical figures being entirely new, repeating nothing which he had said on the previous occasion. As we entered the room, he inquired of me what was expected of him, saying that, as he had so recently spoken in the city, he feared it might be considered indelicate for him to inflict upon his friends another speech. I assured him he need have no fear on that score, as there were many present who had never heard him, and that we were all anxious to hear him again. "Well, then, I must try and give them a dish of fresh fish," which he really did, seasoned to suit the most fastidious appetite. I have seen it represented that he had an impediment in his speech, which I consider a mistake. It is true, there was a slight lisp, perceptible at the commencement of a speech; but it was by no means disagreeable, and disappeared, or was forgotten, as he warmed in his subject. I never knew him to stammer, or hesitate, or to be at a loss for a word, or for the word. He possessed a greater flow of language, and was gifted with a greater variety of choice figures and classical quotations, than any man I ever heard speak. He would repeat the most intricate passages from Milton, Shakspeare, Scott, or Byron, with verbal accuracy and wonderful effect; while his boldest flights were always the most finished and happy. His temperament was essentially poetical; he felt, looked, thought, and spoke poetry; so that in his quotations, which seemed to come unbidden, there was so much homogeneousness, such a commingling of electric sparks from kindred elements, you could with difficulty distinguish what he borrowed from that which was his own; it was hard to separate the warp from the woof, there appearing to be no difference in the texture or figure, in the staple or stripe. I have heard him in one speech, utter enough of the raw material of |