- Party opposition to the President's renomination in 1872 -- Logan's services to Grant in Congress -- Hostility of Sumner and Schurz -- the credit Mobilier scandal -- entertainment of the Japanese embassy -- Republican convention at Philadelphia -- Grant and Wilson nominated -- illness of my father -- journey to Utah -- Bishop Dusenberry of the Mormon Church -- the 1872 campaign -- the Liberal Republican convention -- nomination of Horace Greeley -- Mr. Greeley's Bereavement, defeat, illness, and death -- Grant's second inauguration -- the New cabinet -- death of my father.
Politically excitement was running high. Rivals of President Grant were busy in the manufacture of all kinds of charges against and abuse of his administration. Unfortunately, some of his appointees had not conducted themselves as they should, and he was held responsible, though totally ignorant of their misdeeds. James G. Blaine was ambitious to be nominated for the Presidency, and it was said that he had used the speakership in every possible way to secure delegates to the national convention which was to nominate the candidates for President and Vice-President. There was never a more bitter campaign than that conducted before the holding of the national convention. President Grant's friends-General Logan among them — were so outraged at the methods that had been used that they allowed themselves no respite day or night in their defence of the administration. It is probable that General Logan's defence of President Grant against the attacks of Senator John B. Gordon, of Georgia, and other ex-Confederates who were then in the Senate, together with those of the Sumner-Schurz coterie, has never  been equalled in fervor and vehemence. To General Logan probably belongs greater credit in rendering service to President Grant in the halls of Congress than to any other man. At no time in the history of the Government has there been a greater number of able men in Congress than there was in the early seventies. Unhappily, ambition all too often attributes evil to the motives of rivals. Grant was naturally the only barrier in the road to the White House to each of the men ambitious to occupy it. He had reluctantly accepted the nomination for President in 1868, realizing that he had no training for an executive position. The Republican party would not listen to his objections, knowing that his name was a synonym for a victory. He had conscientiously and wisely administered the affairs of the Republic, and had advanced the United States to a high place on the roll of nations. Yet he and his followers were the targets against whom the shafts of the designing were levelled. Grant was held responsible for every act of his appointees — the whiskey-ring scandals, sale of arms to the French, and nepotism. It was said that he might have averted the grasshopper scourge in Kansas had he been equal to the position of President! Charges against the administration by the coterie determined to destroy Grant and able defence of him and his administration were heard daily in Congress. The galleries of both houses were crowded to suffocation with men and women eager to hear the eloquent men of both sides engaged in the discussions. Meanwhile conventions were being held in every district of the country to elect delegates to the national convention to be held at Cincinnati, in June, 1872. The imbroglio between Charles Sumner and President Grant was especially bitter. Mr. Sumner was one of the most learned men in the Senate. He was commanding in his personal appearance-tall and straight as an arrow. His head was large and covered with heavy hair; his eyes were dark and expressive. He spoke with great earnestness.  He had made a national and an international reputation by his opposition to slavery, and had suffered bodily injury at the hands of the slaveholding Brooks of South Carolina, which, together with his unwavering demand for the abolition of slavery made him the idol of the Whigs and Abolitionists. A person once told Grant that Sumner did not believe in the Bible. Grant replied: “That is because he did not write it himself.” Sumner had been elected to the Senate four times, first succeeding Daniel Webster, and had rendered splendid service to his country. All loyal people regretted exceedingly that the controversy between him and President Grant should have arisen. It was apparent to observers that Mr. Sumner's influence and powers were waning. He had brooded over his unfortunate marriage and separation from the widowed daughter-in-law of his old and cherished friend, Mr. Hooper, of Massachusetts, and, in addition, it broke him down to be obliged to endure the daily relentless excoriations of brother senators with whom he had previously been on most intimate terms. He died March 12, 1874, never having regained his wonderful mental and physical vigor. Carl Schurz supported Mr. Sumner in his attacks upon President Grant and the administration. He was a German revolutionist of 1848 and had had a most remarkable career in the United States. He had been teacher, newspaper correspondent, editor, and, as a reward for his support of Mr. Lincoln in the convention of 1860, was made minister to Spain, a position he soon resigned to enter the service during the Civil War. He was made brigadier-general of volunteers, and was assigned to a command in the army. He was in the battles of Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, and other engagements of the Army of the Potomac. He lived first in New York, then Wisconsin, and from there went to Missouri, from which State he was elected to the United States Senate to succeed General John B. Henderson. He was most intense  in the advocacy of any measure of which he approved and in the denunciation of anything which he opposed. He used effectively weapons of sarcasm and ridicule. But he was no match for Senator Conkling in this line of debate. Schurz had dubbed Senator Conkling “The Powter Pigeon of the Senate,” but Conkling was probably the author of the cognomen “Mephistopheles” which had been conferred upon Schurz in virtue of his peculiar physiognomy. It is needless to add that Carl Schurz was not re-elected to the Senate from Missouri, but he was subsequently appointed Secretary of the Interior by Mr. Hayes. He was a very remarkable man, but could never quite get over his revolutionary ideas. He was wont to say that the Roman punch was the life-saving station in Mrs. Hayes's temperance dinners. Mrs. Schurz and her daughters were among the most charming women that have ever been in Washington. I was especially fond of Mrs. Schurz, who was so serious-minded that she had no appreciation whatever of a joke, and was often shocked by the easy manner of the ladies who received at the White House. Propriety and dignity were her chief characteristics. She could not bear to see the line of ladies assisting at a reception in the least irregular, and was constantly calling them to order, greatly to the annoyance of some and the amusement of others. She was a stately German matron whose kindness knew no bounds, and who was so sincere in her profession of friendship that you felt perfectly at ease in her company. The daughters were charming young women, but they left Washington when they were quite young, and I trust have married well, as I am quite sure they were equal to any position they might undertake to fill. Mr. Schurz wrote in his “Memoirs” a voluminous history of his life and times, and died only a few years ago in the city of New York. Days and weeks were consumed in the debates in both houses over the charges of mistakes and misdoings of the administration. Among other things, there was a great  scandal created about the Credit Mobilier, which meant that Oakes Ames, of Massachusetts, who had organized a company inside of the company which built the Union Pacific Railroad, had sold its stock to members of Congress, many of whom were so afraid that their names would be mentioned in connection with it that they denied having made the purchase or knowing anything about it. Those who admitted having bought the stock as an honest investment of their own money in what promised to be a legitimately profitable venture suffered nothing whatever. General Logan, who had invested in the stock, suffered no discredit, because when he discovered that Congress would be asked to pass additional legislation in the interest of the Union Pacific Railroad he returned his stock to Mr. Ames. The truth is that Mr. Ames was a very much persecuted man. He had patriotically put his fortune into the Union Pacific Railroad to save it from failure, and received for this courageous and noble venture on his part condemnation and almost ostracism. He was only vindicated in after years, when the whole facts in connection with the matter came to light. In the midst of all this the Japanese embassy arrived. Congress made an appropriation for their entertainment, which sum was to be expended under the direction of General Myers, then quartermaster of the United States army, on duty at Washington. Among the social features of their entertainment a grand reception was given in the Masonic Temple, then the only hall in Washington spacious enough for such affairs. General Logan was on the committee for their entertainment, and was very much interested in all the arrangements. A magnificent banquet was laid in a room adjoining the reception-room of the Masonic Temple. The main hall was used for the reception and had been decorated profusely with flags of all nations, palms, flowers, and colored globes for the gas-burners, as electricity was not known in those days.  The President and Mrs. Grant, all the members of the cabinet, and everybody entitled to be present on state occasions came to welcome this interesting Oriental delegation. Many were disappointed that the ladies of the Japanese party were not present, but at that time they were not permitted by their own people to mingle in society as they do to-day. A commodious house in Georgetown had been secured for their accommodation, where every luxury was provided. The “little yellow men of the East,” however, were the keenest observers of everything and lost no time in asking questions and gaining such information as they had been authorized to secure. They engaged the services of many teachers, artisans, agriculturalists, financiers, and political economists and returned to Japan, having recruited quite an army of educators in Western civilization. This was the beginning of the friendly relations between the United States and Japan. Soon after the visit of the embassy, the first Japanese minister made his appearance-Mr. Mori and his interesting family, who has been succeeded from time to time by other most interesting diplomats. Mr. Yoshida, one of the early ministers from Japan, became so much interested in the United States and its progress that his family adopted many of our customs. When he came to Washington he brought his bride, who had the most gorgeous gowns, made up in true Japanese style. Mrs. Grant was very fond of Madame Yoshida, and insisted upon her attending many of her receptions. Madame Yoshida was a most agreeable, sensitive lady, and was naturally much distressed over the curiosity manifested by ill-bred people in her dress, coiffure, and appearance. One evening, at one of Mrs. Grant's receptions, Madame Yoshida wore one of the gorgeous gowns of her trousseau. Some one had the rudeness to take hold of it to feel the quality of the rich brocade of which the gown was made. She was so much distressed over it that she confided her feelings to her husband. He went to the French dressmaker,  Madame Soule, and told her she was to go up to the legation and see if she could not change Madame Yoshida's gowns into regular court-dress, so that she might appear in European dress at the next reception. Madame Soule was much elated over the order, and at the next reception Madame Yoshida appeared in one of her rich gowns which had been converted into a regular European court-dress. The Yoshidas were here many years, making visits to Japan and returning. General Logan and I were dining at their home one night, when Associate Justice Field sat on Madame Yoshida's right and I sat next to Justice Field. The Justice was a very agreeable conversationalist and Madame Yoshida had learned to speak English quite well. Justice Field said: “Madame Yoshida, how many children have you?” She replied: “I have two American and one Japanese children,” at which Justice Field smiled. Quickly realizing the fact that she had made a mistake, she said: “Two born in America, and one in Japan. One is named Ulysses Grant, and one other Roscoe Conkling.” They were hospitable entertainers, and when you went there to a dinner they had many favors at your plate, which was then the custom. I said to Madame Yoshida at one time: “It will be necessary to have an express to take the beautiful things you have given us to our home.” She laughed heartily over it and said she would send them to the house by her servant if I so desired. Fancy boxes, beautiful carved ivories, and all kinds of exquisite and dainty favors, besides the menu-card, were laid at our plates, and you would have committed a grave offence if you had not taken them with you. One felt quite ashamed to leave the dining-room with hands so full of souvenirs of the occasion. Soon after March 4, 1872, I returned to our home in Chicago for the summer, General Logan going directly from Washington to the convention in Philadelphia, where, after a stormy time, Grant and Wilson were nominated for the Presidency and the Vice-Presidency. The national committee met soon  after the adjournment of the convention and made a programme for the conduct of the campaign. General Logan was booked to speak almost every day until the election, having appointments in Indiana, Ohio, Maine, Kansas, Nebraska, and Iowa, in addition to the many made for him in the State of Illinois, a State which he had ever a pride in carrying. Indiana was always a battleground between the Republican and the Democratic parties, and it required much labor to carry it for the Republican party. After my father's second marriage, he desired to go west. He was appointed an assessor under the Internal Revenue Bureau, and removed to Provo, Utah. Early in August, when the campaign was at its height, I received a telegram from Doctor Taggart, a friend of ours, who was the collector of internal revenue at Salt Lake City. He said that my father was dangerously ill from meningitis and desired that I should come to him. Knowing how dependent he was upon me after my mother's death, and how unhappy he was to be seriously ill so far away from us, I communicated with General Logan at once, to ask his permission to join my father. It was impossible for him to accompany me on account of his duties in the campaign, but I insisted that I could go alone, and hence it was arranged. I set out upon the journey a few hours after receiving the telegram. At that time the arrangements were not as perfect as they are now. Persons travelling over the Union Pacific Railroad were obliged to change cars and get their sleeping-berth at Omaha. Following the directions of the agent in Chicago, I went into the depot at Omaha to find the Pullman office to secure the tickets for the section which I supposed had been assigned to me. There were many passengers in the room in line before the window of the Pullman office. Realizing that I would have no chance to reach the window for sometime, I sought one of the officials on duty in the depot. He knew General Logan very well and at once busied himself to secure my tickets. He  stood up on a chair and called to the Pullman agent, saying: “What is the number of Mrs. Logan's section in the Salt Lake car?” After some delay the agent responded: “Number twelve.” The official then escorted me to this car, and I was soon with all my belongings ensconced in section twelve. The official probably knew more about the matter than I did, because he said to me: “No matter who claims this seat, you sit still. Nobody will dare to take hold of you.” I was rather uncomfortable for fear there was something wrong about the seat, but made up my mind to follow his instructions. A little while afterward two Englishmen came into the car and deposited their numerous pieces of “luggage” in number eleven, directly opposite my section. They were muttering to each other and manifesting much displeasure over something that had occurred, but fearing that I might in some way have disconcerted their plans, I looked out of the window steadily for some time. It seemed to me a long time before everybody was assigned to his proper place in the car. Finally we were off, and, in my great anxiety, I realized that it was to be a long and tedious journey, relieved only by the enjoyment of the magnificent scenery as we reached and crossed the Rocky Mountains. In order to have a better view, I retired to the observation car. There being a vacant seat next to my neighbor, number eleven, I sat down. The gentleman said: “I beg your pardon, are you Mrs. John A. Logan?” I replied in the affirmative. He said: “I speak to you, madam, to apologize for our seeming discourtesy, but you will pardon me if I tell you that you have one of our sections. I am afraid that we manifested much displeasure when we found that we both had to occupy one section, whereas we expected to have two.” I told him I was very sorry, but that I was not aware of the fact that I had displaced them. He replied: “Oh! it is all right now, because we have learned of your sad journey, and we wish to  apologize for what may have seemed rudeness.” They proved to be English officers of the army and navy making a journey around the world. They were delightful gentlemen, and we grew to be very good friends before we reached Salt Lake. I noticed that the naval officer had a copy of “Lucille,” which he read very assiduously. Upon my remarking that I was very much attracted by the literature which he seemed to enjoy, he told me all about a very serious love-affair which he had had just before leaving England, and that he was trying to pull himself together a “bit” by this journey. I reminded him that “there are just as good fish in the sea as ever were caught.” I shall never forget their great courtesy and attention during that long and weary journey. I invited them to make themselves more comfortable by depositing part of their luggage on one of the seats of my section. They were to stop in Salt Lake to learn something of the wonders of that famous city, and therefore attended me to the hotel. Doctor Taggart met me soon after my arrival and relieved me by saying that my father was better, but that he was still very ill. He told me that he had made arrangements for me to go to Provo on the stage-coach. The stage line at that time was under the management of Gilmer and Saulsbury, men from Illinois, and, of course, I felt quite sure that I would have every care and attention. The railroad only extended a few miles out of Salt Lake, where we were met by a stagecoach. At the terminus of the railroad there was nothing but an empty freight-car for a depot, and a few tents and cloth houses, where it seemed to me there was nothing but gamblingplaces and whiskey saloons. Near the car which was used as a depot were a number of barrels upon which were laid some boards. Around them men were gathered playing cards. Imagine my dismay when I descended from the car to go into the stage to see all these men pick up their bottles and cards, put them in their pockets, and get into the stage! I knew  no one, but I was obliged to go to my father. I shall never forget the absolute silence that prevailed in that coach. The men were as polite and as considerate as they could possibly be, and spoke never a word until we reached the first station where the horses had to be watered. Doctor Taggart had evidently told the driver who I was and where I was going, for I shall ever remember the gallantry with which he came to the door and asked me if I would have a drink of water. He then said: “I think you would enjoy riding on top of the stage if you would not mind sitting by me.” It was a great relief, and I accepted his invitation with much gratitude. He had watered his horses and assisted me up to the box on top of the stage. He had the reins tied to the brake, the passengers were all in, and we were about ready to start, when he darted into the house and returned with an umbrella in his hand. It was a very hot day, and nothing I could do would induce him to surrender that umbrella to me, but he drove his horses and held the umbrella over me all the way to Provo. We went to a dizzy height over mountains, and crawled along the sides of precipices. If he had made the slightest mistake, we might have been dashed hundreds of feet to our death. I was scarcely seated on top of the coach before I could hear the men inside cracking jokes, laughing, and enjoying themselves hugely. It made a deep impression on me, realizing, as I did, that their silence was their way of expressing their profound respect for a lone woman. Rough as they were, they still retained the innate instincts of gallantry of American men toward women. It was nearly five o'clock when I reached Provo, and was again embraced by my dear old father. He improved rapidly after my arrival, and, after spending ten days with him and seeing him convalescent, I decided to return home. After he had improved and was quite on the road to recovery, he wanted me to meet his Mormon friends of the city of Provo. Among them were many of the highest intelligence and  refinement, and I used to enjoy hearing them talk. I remember one Bishop Dusenberry, an Englishman, who was as fine a looking man as I have ever seen. Though a bishop of the church, nothing would induce him to practise polygamy. He had one wife and lived handsomely in a substantial house surrounded by beautiful grounds. Though he was loyal to the tenets of the church, I discovered in conversation that his bank account was kept in England, and I jocularly remarked to him one day: “Bishop, I expect some day to hear that you have renounced Mormonism and gone to England.” He laughed quite heartily and replied: “What makes you think so?” I said: “Because I understand the greater part of your fortune is deposited in the Bank of England, in London.” He again laughed and replied, “Don't you think that it is in a very safe place?” thus avoiding a direct reply to my remark. Knowing General Logan's position, the friends of my father lost no time in paying me every respect, bringing me fruits and flowers, and in every way manifesting their great admiration for my husband. I could but admire the courage that had enabled these people with their teams and wagons to cross the great American desert and hew their way over the Rocky Mountains to the great valley of Salt Lake in the Territory of Utah at a time when pioneers had to brave every conceivable danger, including that of hostile Indians. They surely could never have succeeded in making this great valley blossom as a rose and in establishing homes that are as comfortable as those of other sections if they had not been sustained by the fanaticism of their remarkable religious faith. I felt more resigned to my father's living in this part of the country after having seen and known that these people were full of kindness and generosity. After my return home I frequently accompanied General Logan in the campaign, to look after his health and to entertain his friends so that he might be able to snatch a little  rest between his engagements. In this way I met the representative people from every part of the country, and, being anxious to spare General Logan all that I could, I confess to having carefully studied the histories of the different States and as far as possible to have informed myself as to the exact position of every man in politics. I tried to find out all I could about their relations with their own people so as to enable General Logan to put a correct valuation on their services to the party. Naturally, there were many pleasant things in connection with these visits to different towns and cities, and I have no recollection of any disagreeable episode. I came to think in those days that a man's politics were akin to his religion, and that most men were moved by motives of patriotism and an honest desire to serve the best interest of their respective States and the nation at large. I shall always feel that Henry Wilson added little to the influence of the ticket. He was known to be an honest and faithful New England senator, but he had little knowledge of the people or of the interests of the middle-west, northwest, and western States. He had spent his life in Massachusetts, and, while it was never necessary to defend his reputation, it was hard to arouse enthusiasm for a man of neutral character. The world knows the result of the campaign and of the sad death of Vice-President Wilson. As an outcome of the savage attacks of Sumner and Schurz on General Grant and the leaders of the regular Republican party, what they called the Liberal Republican party was organized by such ambitious newspaper men as Whitelaw Reid (our late ambassador to England), Horace White, Alexander McClure, Henry Watterson, Samuel Bowles, Murat Halstead, and a number of disgruntled Republicans, who held a convention in Cincinnati, May i, 1872, and after three or four days farcical sessions nominated Horace Greeley for President and B. Gratz Brown, ex-Governor of Missouri, for Vice-President. One might be forgiven for saying that this  was a cruel attempt on the part of ambitious young men who had nothing to lose and all to gain if they could succeed in electing “Father” Greeley President of the United States. The whole attempt was so abortive and so ludicrous that it gave Thomas Nast, then at the meridian of his power as a cartoonist, an opportunity to inflict the most cruel blows upon Mr. Greeley. One caricature which caused great amusement was a cartoon of Mr. Greeley as the candidate for President, with a placard on the tail of his coat marked “B. Gratz Brown,” which was all that was said of Mr. Brown as the Vice-President. How Mr. Greeley and Carl Schurz and men of their great ability could have been so foolish as to express their willingness to participate in this gigantic Falstaffian effort to capture the Presidency I do not profess to know. Mr. Greeley canvassed the country and made a most feeling appeal to the people, who, he thought, ought to support him for the Presidency. Notwithstanding the fact that Mr. Greeley and Mr. Brown were indorsed by the Democratic convention held in Baltimore on July 9, 1872, this indorsement did not at all increase the possibility of their election. Even Mr. Greeley's letter of acceptance of the Democratic nomination and his appeal to the people failed to make any serious impression. In the midst of the campaign Mr. Greeley was summoned to his home on account of the serious illness of Mrs. Greeley, which proved fatal. This sad event so affected Mr. Greeley, in addition to his great disappointment in not being made President, that his mind gave way and he was sent to a sanitarium, where he died. The whole episode was so pathetic as to touch the heart of the country. President Grant and his entire cabinet, together with many noted men of the North and South, attended the funeral. Mr. Greeley had gone on the bond of Jefferson Davis, that Davis might be released from prison. This act, while it lessened his influence in the North, made many friends for him in the South, where  he had previously been hated on account of his advocacy of the freedom of slaves. He was one of the most remarkable men of his time, and should never have been induced to depart from the position of a great editor for which he was so eminently fitted. He was earnest, tender, and guileless, and was in no sense a man suited to the handling of the vexatious problems of politics. As has often been said before, his death may have saved him from a more cruel fate — that of ridicule. Notwithstanding the bitter warfare that had been waged against General Grant, he was elected by an overwhelming majority, as were also a majority of the nominees of the Republican party for members of Congress. We returned to our apartments in November, 1872, I to take up the usual routine of looking after my children, acting as secretary to General Logan, receiving and entertaining friends who were daily growing more numerous, and discharging my social duties. These were not at all distasteful, because, as I recall now, society women, or rather the families in the official homes of the capital, made a great effort to make themselves a reputation for refinement, cordiality, and intelligent appreciation of the positions of their husbands and what was required of themselves to discharge their duties as wives and daughters. A majority of the senators and members lived in hotels and boarding-houses, for at that time Washington furnished very meagre accommodations for congressional and other official families. The schools were poor, and those who could possibly arrange for their children to attend boarding-schools away from the city did so. Almost without exception the ladies felt that they must welcome to Washington visitors who were entitled to consideration. They felt that they must, on the days assigned to the Supreme Court, the Senate, the House of Representatives, the speaker, the army, and the navy, receive all who did them the honor to call. These receptions began about two o'clock and were not supposed to end before half-past 5. During  these hours hundreds of calls were made, and they were not, as to-day, considered a bore and a drudgery. Most hostesses made every preparation for their afternoons at home, wearing beautiful gowns, inviting their friends to assist them in preparing tables where refreshments were served, and decorating their rooms with flowers. They extended a hospitality that made every one feel that their call was appreciated. There were many bright women, and often before you entered a drawing-room you could hear the peals of laughter and the bright conversation of the happy people within. The hours being early, it was possible to make a great many calls in the afternoon and to reach home in time to welcome my husband after the adjournment of Congress and the official duties of the day were over. Monday was the day for the Supreme Court, Tuesday for the House of Representatives, Wednesday for the cabinet and the speaker, Thursday for the Senate, Friday for the army and the navy, and Saturday afternoon for the White House. The mistress of that mansion always made extensive preparations for her Saturday afternoons. The Marine Band played as at an evening reception, and every room was beautifully decorated with plants and flowers. It gave an opportunity for the wife of the President to extend invitations to some of the wives of members of the Supreme Court, Senate, House of Representatives, army and navy, and citizens and visitors in Washington to assist her at these receptions. The recipients never forgot this compliment, and it helped to make fast friends for the President of the husbands of these women who had had these little attentions. Latter-day wives of Presidents seem to have forgotten that it is in their province to extend such courtesies, or do anything to acknowledge the honors that have been paid their husbands and themselves by their elevation to the highest position within the gift of the people. It is impossible for any lady in the White House to go through the long list of  persons entitled to consideration if she confines herself to the regulation state dinners, the four evening receptions, and the occasional musicale or garden-party. People are so quick to discover whether the invitation is sent through a desire to do one an honor or whether it is a grudging discharge of a disagreeable duty. The only way to account for the difference in treatment accorded guests in the White House latterly and in the olden time is by recognizing the fact that money is now more highly considered as a standard. It has been interesting to contrast the menus served in the state dining-room to his guests by President Arthur with the bowls of punch and gingersnaps that have been served in the corridor of the White House by caterers after musicales within the past few years. Not that one accepts these invitations expecting a feast, yet one feels a pride in having whatever is done in the White House either well done or altogether omitted. Allowing for the Christmas holidays, any session beginning December i and closing on the 4th of March is very short, and there is little time for the passage of many bills that must fail altogether if they are left on the calendar March 3 of the last session of a Congress. Therefore, those interested work prodigiously at these last hours. March 3, 1873, was the close of the Forty-second Congress, and, though many of the senators and members had worked heroically, the calendar was far from being exhausted. Work in the departments was also greatly in arrears, as possibly a larger number of bills had been introduced in Congress, and more important matters laid before every department, than had ever before been done in the history of the Government. March 4, 1873, was probably the most inclement inauguration day within the memory of any American. The thermometer had fallen below zero, a thing previously unknown in this climate. The militia from many States almost perished with the cold while they were en route, and they  arrived in Washington to find inhospitable temperature and few preparations for their accommodation. The decorations of the city were frozen stiff and looked dismal with their coats of ice and sleet, which had fallen the night before. The cadets from West Point and Annapolis were nearly frozen in line, many dropping out on account of their inability to stand on their feet, and, though they were taken back to their academies as speedily as possible, they left a number behind in the hospitals of Washington, while others were borne to the hospital on their arrival at West Point and Annapolis, fatal pneumonia claiming several in each corps. The procession was the poorest display ever seen on such an occasion. Senators Logan, Cragin, and Bayard, were the committee on the part of the Senate, supplemented by a large committee of distinguished men. Governors of many States with their staffs were present. The weather spoiled their splendor, their feathers and gold lace yielding to the frost in the air. Helmbold, of patent-medicine fame, was then in Washington with a famous four-in-hand mouse-colored team of horses which he drove attached to a superb landau with light lining. He insisted that the committee should allow him to use this turnout to convey President Grant and the committee to the Capitol for the inauguration, and back to the White House. The committee accepted his offer, and on inauguration day Grant, together with the Senate committee-Logan, Cragin, and Bayard-drove to the Capitol and thence to the White House in this beautiful equipage. Another though less pretentious outfit conveyed Vice-President Wilson to the Capitol. A commendable but futile effort was made by the shivering throng on either side of Pennsylvania Avenue to cheer the President, Vice-President, and distinguished men whom they recognized in the procession. The crowd assembled in the park on the east side of the Capitol were packed close together in front of the rotunda steps, which were covered over to serve as the platform upon which the President takes  the oath of office and delivers his inaugural address. These people were better able to resist the bitter blast that had been wildly blowing for forty-eight hours, beginning the day before the inauguration, than were those who held exposed positions on the avenue. Fortunately, the ceremonies were brief. The Vice-President proceeded to the Senate chamber to adjourn that body to wait for the President's message, while President Grant and the committee resumed their seats in the carriage to return to the White House. We had in our employ at that time a faithful colored man servant, Louis Davis, who has occupied the position of trusted messenger in the Interior Department almost ever since. He insisted upon taking our little son, John A. Logan, Jr., who was then eight years old, to the inauguration, promising to be very careful of him. He took the child up to the Capitol and stood beside the general who occupied the place of committeeman near Grant. After he had finished the inaugural address, President Grant noticed the boy, and, Jack being a great favorite with him, he said to General Logan: “Bring Jack in the carriage as we return.” Louis, overhearing President Grant, preceded them to the carriage. Imagine General Logan's surprise when he saw Louis sitting on the box beside Helmbold with Jack on his knee! The President laughed heartily and insisted upon his being left there. When they arrived at the White House, President Grant took Jack by the hand and led him into the reception-room to be welcomed by Mrs. Grant. When they adjourned to the state dining-room for the luncheon which Mrs. Grant had provided for the large party accompanying the President, he insisted upon taking Jack with him. It was a red-letter day in the dear boy's life, and he used to tell it to all of his school friends with a good deal of satisfaction. It spoke volumes for the kind heart of General Grant. Jack was always proud of being a favorite with the President and Mrs. Grant, who never forgot him at Christmas, but  always sent him some beautiful Christmas gift. He was her champion and made many speeches in eulogy of Mrs. Grant, which were reported to her and caused her to be very strongly attached to him as long as she lived. The afternoon was spent by everybody in trying to get warm. The inaugural committee had made most extensive preparations for the inaugural ball. They had built a temporary marquee on Judiciary Square. It was magnificently decorated and extensive enough to have accommodated the thousands whom the committee expected would attend the ball. A superb banquet had been provided, and hundreds of waiters secured, and the committee on music had provided many bands. The weather abated not a whit or tittle, and, as night came on, it seemed to grow colder and colder, and yet every one felt they must carry out the inaugural programme. We had as our guest Miss Nina J. Lunt, of Chicago. Mr. E. B. Wight, representative of the Chicago Tribune had invited Miss Lunt and our daughter, then in her teens, to go to the inaugural ball, and, while Dollie was not in society, we thought it might be an event she would like to remember as long as she lived. Therefore we gave our consent to have her go with Mr. Wight. After they had gone, and before we could reach them, we became very anxious indeed, because of the growing intensity of the cold. Mr. Wight was very careful, and through his influence in newspaper circles, was able to get them a most comfortable position, and they suffered no inconvenience or ill-effects from this, our daughter's first experience at an inaugural ball. Like all young people, she was so enthusiastic about all she saw, and the interesting people who were present, that she was unmindful of the cold. The President and Mrs. Grant and Vice-President Wilson, who was a widower, arrived at about half past 11 o'clock. Mr.Fish and Mrs. Fish, SecretaryBoutwell and Mrs. Boutwell, SecretaryBelknap and Mrs. Belknap, Secretary Robeson, Postmaster-General  and Mrs. Creswell, Attorney-General and Mrs. Williams, SecretaryDelano and Mrs. Delano, accompanied by Mr.Delano and Mrs. John Delano, were in the Presidential party, while the Diplomatic Corps, led by the Dean Blacque Bey of Turkey, Sir Edward Thornton, the Marquis de Naoville of France, Mr. and Madame Mori of Japan, and the Peruvian minister, all in full court dress — as on the occasion of all inaugural balls, the ladies wearing their most gorgeous gowns-attended the ball, and the grand promenade was given. The marquee not being heated, it became so cold that one lady was seized with a congestive chill and died in the room. This sad event, in addition to the intensity of the cold, from which everybody was suffering, cut short the ceremonies of the evening. The food on the tables in the banquet hall was congealed, the coffee almost freezing into a frappe. Men and women in evening dress sought their heavy wraps to keep from perishing while they waited for their conveyances to take them to their abodes. Drivers of vehicles of all kinds were almost frozen, and great confusion reigned inside and outside the temporary building. Musicians were unable to play their instruments, the mouthpieces of some of the smaller instruments being frozen, and the festivities ended unceremoniously. The great crowd which had come to Washington for the inaugural ceremonies left the city as rapidly as they could get trains to carry them away. The newspaper men and women then in Washington were among the most brilliant of the guild. All the metropolitan newspapers had bureaus in Washington, presided over by a coterie of men who were the equals, if not the superiors, intellectually of the men at the head of the bureaus of the metropolitan newspapers of to-day. Among them were such men as Whitelaw Reid of the New York Tribune; J. B. McCullough of the Saint Louis Democrat; Alexander McClure of the Philadelphia Ledger; Horace White, Mr. Sheehan, of the Chicago Times; Murat Halstead, L. A. Gobright, E. B. Wight,  George A. Townsend, J. Russell Young, subsequently librarian of the Congressional Library, W. Scott Smith, Eli Perkins, Charles Lanman, Don Piatt, Ben Perley Poore, E. V. Smalley, Mark Twain, Frederick Douglass, and a host of correspondents who have made enviable reputations in their calling. Among the women reporters who wielded influential pens as correspondents of important newspapers were Mary Clemmer Ames, Mrs. Lippincott, Mrs. H. M. Barnum, Mrs. Olivia Briggs, Mrs. Coggswell, Mrs. and Miss Snead, and Miss Mary E. Healey. General Grant soon nominated his cabinet, retaining those who had served during his first term, with the exception of the Secretary of the Treasury. The members of the cabinet were: Hamilton Fish, Secretary of State; William A. Richardson, Secretary of the Treasury; W. W. Belknap, Secretary of War; George M. Robeson, Secretary of the Navy; Columbus Delano, Secretary of the Interior; John A. Creswell, Postmaster-General; George H. Williams, Attorney-General. Congress resumed its treadmill routine, with now and again outbursts of criticism and vituperation heaped upon President Grant. On March 9 our friend Doctor John P. Taggart, of Salt Lake City, telegraphed General Logan that my father had passed away from a return of the meningitis from which he had suffered the summer previous. There were three of my mother's children with my father in Utah, and we realized at once that there was no alternative but for me to again return to Utah. It was impossible for General Logan to leave his post of duty, and we had no one whom we could send who could attend to matters and who understood affairs as I did. Consequently I made the second long, sad trip to Utah, to bring my father's remains home to be interred beside my mother, in the cemetery at Marion, Williamson County, Illinois, and to assume the care and support of the three children left unprovided for. I do not even now like  to recall that melancholy journey, or the multiplied cares which I had to assume, and which could never have been borne but for the unfailing tenderness and encouragement of my devoted husband. He was perfectly willing to share everything we had with my minor brother and sisters, who by my father's death had become double orphans. We had taken a furnished house on Capitol Hill when I returned to Washington, in November previous, for the session of Congress which ended March 4, and as soon as it was possible took the children and returned to our home in Chicago.