University of Virginia Library

HONOR TO OUR HEROES.
GRAND BANQUET IN HONOR OF GENS. SHERMAN
AND THOMAS.

[From the New York Herald, Jan. 1st, 1865.]

DINNER OF THE NEW YORK NATIONAL CLUB.

At the entertainment given last evening at the
Maison Dorée, by the members of the New York
National Club, to celebrate the successes of Generals
Sherman and Thomas, there was quite a select
and brilliant gathering of military and other celebrities.
All the arrangements for the feast were
of the choicest, and the company seemed to be in
excellent spirits for appreciating the entertainment,
both intellectual and physical, to which they
were invited. The walls, pictures, and chandeliers
were beautifully decorated with wreaths, stars, and
crosses of evergreens and flowers: and there were
other indications on the tables that Christmas and
the holiday season had not been forgotten.

SOME OF THE DISTINGUISHED GUESTS.

Prominent among the military guests we noticed
General Robert Anderson, Major-General John

A. Dix, and two members of his staff; together
with Generals W. S. Hancock, Hunter, Hooker,
W. F. Smith, Hartsuff, Butterfield, Averell, Cullum,
Webb, Colonel James A. Hardie, Inspector-General,
and several minor lights of the profession
militaire. Of civilians and naval officers there was
a choice but not inconvenient number present,
covers having been ordered only for sixty,
and this limit being adhered to, despite a very
strong outside pressure to have the margin
extended.

Among those in the non-military class we noticed
Messrs. Thurlow Weed, John Van Buren, Governor
Andrew, of Massachusetts; Captains Drayton
and Daniel Ammen, United States Navy; Wm. F.
Havemeyer, James T. Brady, Senator Conness, of
California; John A. Kennedy, Judge Ingraham,
Charles A. Dana, Assistant Secretary of War;
Royal Phelps, the Rev. Morgan Dix, Robert B.
Roosevelt, Edwards Pierrepont, Richard O'Gorman,
Sydney H. Gay, Captain Worden, United States
Navy; Edward Cooper, Hamilton Fish, William
Stuart, Thomas J. Durant, A. T. Stewart, Thos.
C. Acton, Captain Rodgers, United States Navy;
Clarence Seward, Henry Ward Beecher, Professor
Doremus, Henry Hilton, Samuel L. M. Barlow,
Charles Nordhoff, Henry J. Raymond, Colonel
Sandford, of the telegraph companies; Edwin
Booth; Vice-President elect, Andrew Johnson, of

Tennessee; and Captain G. V. Scott, Assistant
Secretary of the Navy.

OBJECT OF THE DINNER CELEBRATION.

The cards of invitation from the New York
National Club set forth that this dinner was to
celebrate the successful termination of the first
problem of General W. T. Sherman's last and
greatest campaign, by the capture of Savannah; and
the overwhelming destruction of the rebel forces
under General Hood by General Geo. H. Thomas;
as also to express the hope of all true patriots,
irrespective of party, that, “through the triumphant
energy of our military and naval heroes,
this desolating civil war may soon be brought
into a condition that will allow a liberal margin
to statesmanship and diplomacy for the settlement
of all differences between the North and South on
the one essential basis of a restored Union.”

OPENING SPEECH BY PRINCE JOHN VAN BUREN
—THE HEALTH OF GENERAL SHERMAN.

After full justice had been done to the viands
—Dodworth's band discoursing eloquent music
during the progress of the feast—the distinguished
Prince John Van Buren, as President of the
Club, gave notice that there would be no succession
of “regular toasts” that evening, this habit

having become a mere form, which had lost all
significance, and only tending to bore convivial
assemblages with too copious streams of eloquence
elaborately rehearsed. They had met to acknowledge
their indebtedness to two noble Generals,
and to express hopes for their continued success.
He would therefore, now propose, in due order of
seniority, the health of that gallant officer, General
William Tecumseh Sherman, and call upon the
honored friend on his left—General Robert Anderson,
of Fort Sumter—to respond in behalf of the
absent hero. (Loud applause, the whole company
rising and drinking the health of General Sherman
with “three times three and a tiger,” Dodworth's
band striking up, “Lo, the Conquering Hero
Comes,” and “Hail Columbia.”)

General Anderson, whose rising was hailed with
fervent demonstrations of applause, spoke slowly,
and as if still suffering from the effects of protracted
illness; but he spoke with an unrivalled
tenderness of sincerity, his plea for the foundation
of a Soldier's Home, towards the close of his
remarks, having in all its words, accents, and gestures,
a most cogent impressiveness.

GENERAL ANDERSON'S SPEECH.

General Anderson declared it to be the proudest
thought of his life that he had been the humble
means, under Divine Providence, of bringing into

early prominence before the country the two
generals whose names were at the present moment
most gratefully on the lips of every patriot—he
referred to his old lieutenant, Wm. T. Sherman,
whose health they had just honored; and to that
noblest of all noble Southrons now in the active
service of our country, General George H. Thomas,
of Virginia. (Applause.) Early in the war, when
assigned to the command of his own native State,
Kentucky, General Anderson felt that his nervous
system had been injured by the enormous weight
of anxieties and responsibilities which had pressed
upon him for the two months preceding the attack
upon his forces in Fort Sumter. He was only overruled
into accepting the command by the representations
of such noble patriots of his native State as
the late John J. Crittenden, Mr. Leslie Coombs,
Secretary Guthrie, and others of like stamp, who
expressed to him their belief that his name might
be made useful in heightening the loyalty of those
Kentuckians who were already for the Union, and
of turning into the true path many who were still
wavering or in doubt. (Loud applause.) Thus
pressed, he accepted; but, fearing that his health
might again break down, it was the primary condition
of his taking the command in question, that
his tried and honored friend, General William T.
Sherman, should be assigned to him as his next
in rank. (Applause.) Sherman had served for
years under him as lieutenant of his company;
and General George H. Thomas, he was proud to
say, had been a lieutenant in the same regiment.
In regard to General Thomas, he desired to
claim some credit, but only for having expedited
the inevitable. Men of the stamp of George H.
Thomas push themselves upward and onward in
times like these as irresistibly as water seeks its
own level; or, to use a metaphor more appropriate
to a certain alleged portion of the aristocracy
of to-day, as inevitably as a great petroleum fountain
underneath the earth, will bubble to the surface
and make all rich around it. (Loud applause
and laughter.) But it was through his humble
ministry that General Thomas, early in the war,
received an opportunity worthy of his talents;
and the manner of this incident he would now
relate. He (General Anderson) saw with pain in
the early days of the war, a disposition on the
part of certain prominent friends of the Administration
to look with suspicion upon officers of
Southern birth, who still remained faithful to the
old flag. From the South himself, he felt this
keenly; and at an early interview with the President,
having stated his views, he asked that he
might be given a brigadier's commission for George
H. Thomas—(applause)—an officer for whose unalterable
loyalty he would answer with his head;
and whose natural and acquired qualities of soldiership
he esteemed, after long opportunities for
judging, as second to those of no officer in our
own or any other army. (Loud applause, in the
midst of which General Butterfield proposed “The
health of General Thomas,” which was drunk
with enthusiasm, and with all the honors.) General
Anderson then regretted that the condition
of his health would not allow him to review the
splendid career of General Sherman—a task which
he found himself obliged to delegate to younger,
and more active heads. He knew Sherman well,
and loved him with all his heart; and would only
express the hope, before resuming his seat, that
the great and generous American people, filled
with thanks to the Giver of all Goodness for the
victories which had recently blessed our arms,
would now make their gratitude take the practical
form of erecting a great “National Soldiers' Home”
for our crippled and disabled veterans, as the
noblest and most appropriate monument they could
erect in commemoration of the Divine mercies for
which we have all, this day, so much cause to be
thankful. (Applause.) The General then recited
the labors he had undergone in procuring the present
Soldiers' Home at Washington to be created,
regretting that it had been located upon a miserably
contracted patch of ground, near Washington,
and that it consequently could afford no means of
giving any healthful and self-supporting employment
to its inmates. He wished to see the first
great National Soldiers' Home, to be erected by
popular action, located either in the vicinity of
Carlisle, Pa., or near the beautiful Adirondack
region of New York. It should have at least a
thousand acres of land attached to its endowment;
and with this properly cultivated by the easy
labor of the inmates, and with the trifling pensions
now allowed to them by government, such an
establishment would be self-supporting, and need
make no appeal for any further contribution. As
to the present Soldiers' Home near Washington,
it should be purchased by Congress as a residence
for the President and such Cabinet officers as might
choose to reside there—the present miserably unhealthy
and contracted White House becoming
merely the Presidential suite of public offices.
With the money obtained from Congress by such
a sale, the land he wanted for his new, popular and
National Soldiers' Home might be readily purchased.
In this connection he desired to express
his indebtedness to the various papers of New
York, and to the New York Herald more particularly,
for the cordial, generous, and active support
they had given to this project. Himself a
disabled soldier, he thanked all the conductors of
our press, in the name of his crippled comrades,
for their disinterested humanity in this matter.
Thanking the members of the Club and his fellow-guests
for the patience with which they had heard
him, General Anderson resumed his seat in the
midst of deafening applause.

COLONEL M`MAHON'S SONG—ITS AUTHORSHIP
STILL IN DOUBT.

Lieutenant-Colonel Martin T. McMahon, late
Adjutant-General on the staff of the ever-glorious
and lamented Major-General Sedgwick, was next
introduced to the company by President Van
Buren, who said that as they had all met to celebrate
General Sherman's success, he would be
glad for them to hear from his friend, the Colonel,
who had a most excellent voice, a song he had
just received from Sherman's army, viâ the Ogeechee—the
authorship of which was pretty clearly,
though not yet quite definitely, traced to a young
cavalry officer of distinction, and holding an important
command in Sherman's army (Loud
applause and cheers). Thus introduced, Colonel
McMahon, a very fine-looking young soldier, and
one possessing a record of service as enviable as
his voice and other social talents, proceeded to
give the following to an original accompaniment,
which was played for him on the guitar by General
William Averell, of the cavalry, who proved
himself a most accomplished master of that instrument—a
true troubadour of the old Provence type,

alike familiar with serenade and sabre. He called
it:

The verses, sung with great melody, fire, and
feeling, were warmly received; and it may gratify
the friends of the unknown author to be here
informed that, in response to a brief but telling

and witty address from Senator Conness, of California,
the health of the author of “Sherman's
Way,” received the complimentary and enthusiastic
baptism of some of the best French and
Rhenish vintages to be found upon Manhattan
Island.

LEARNED AND ELOQUENT ADDRESS OF MAJOR-GENERAL
JOHN A. DIX.

General Dix, being loudly called for, remarked
that it was but rarely, since re-entering the army,
that he had found either time or inclination for
post-prandial speeches. He was out of practice,
and might possibly be dull; but he promised he
should not be prolix. He was not one of those
who looked upon war as an unmixed evil. It
cost much pain and waste, but these were more
than compensated by its calling forth all that is
heroic in our natures:

or “for the benefit of country members.”—As the
precious corn is separated from worthless straw
only by severe threshing, so by crosses and afflictions
the true life of a nation is separated from its
chaff. (Applause.) It required the dark days of
a Republic to bring out such hero-characters as we
have found in Sherman, Thomas, Farragut, and
that youngest but not least of the jewels gilding
the bright crown of our war—Lieutenant Cushing,
of the navy. (Loud applause.) These names
are lights of our country, emulating in lustre the
stars under which they fight, and capable of challenging—were
history truly written—the demigods
of mythology to a comparison of records:

General Dix desired to endorse the eloquent
and practical appeal of his honored friend, General
Anderson, in behalf of founding a great
National Soldiers' Home as the most fitting monument
with which the American people can record
their appreciation of the services of Generals
Sherman and Thomas, and their gratitude to the
Heavenly Father who has vouchsafed so much
success to the efforts of their enterprise and genius.
If there be any objects which should appeal to the
public sympathy with irresistible force, it is such
as we have daily presented in all the highways and
byways of our land—crippled soldiers who have
fought the battles of their country, yet are now
reduced to sit on stoops and by the wayside,
exposing their truncated limbs and honorable
scars while asking for an obolus. (Emotion and

applause.) Every time these sights came before
him—and they came too often—he was reminded
of those most touching lines of the Latin poet:

The soldier in his day of strength is a noble
object. Satisfied of the justice of his cause, and
filled with the thought that the peace, honor, and
well-being of his country depend upon his prowess,
he is regardless of death, and rushes upon
hostile swords:

But when recoiling, faint with loss of blood, from
the tempestuous onset, holding up in his left hand
the shattered right arm that never again may
strike for the cause as dear to him as life, or carried
rearward with a broken thigh on one of those
canvas stretchers already purple with the blood
of dozens who have pressed it before him—Oh,
then, if there be hearts in those at home to feel
grateful for self-sacrifices, they should surround
his couch of pain with everything that can mitigate
his sufferings; and as he issues, alive but for
ever crippled, from the door of the hospital, they
should be there to take him in their arms and
comfort him with the assurance that the Nation in
whose cause he has given the glory of his manhood,
will provide him with an honorable and
happy home during the balance of his life. (Applause
and deep emotion.) Occupied as our chief
authorities are in the main business of crushing
the armed forces of the rebellion, allowance must
be made for their neglect or inability to attend to
such matters of after consideration and detail as
this of a Soldiers' Home. They are troubled with
many things; nunc hœc nunc illa cogitant; and they
very possibly feel that while all their energies
are directed to the front, the care of those who are
permanently disabled in the nation's cause should
be freely and proudly undertaken by the non-belligerent
classes of our people. (Cries of “Hear,
hear.” A voice—“We accept the trust.”)

General Dix had been led aside from his purpose
of speaking directly to the object which had
called them together; but if he knew General
Sherman well, and he thought he did so, that officer
would be the last to grudge any moments taken
from his own praise to plead the cause of the gallant
men who had been riddled with balls and
pierced with bayonets since General Anderson first
heard the hollow booming of the guns which
announced the birth—monstrum horrendum, ingens,

atque informe—of this rebellion. (Loud applause,
General Anderson bowing.) It was a good thing
to praise men publicly who had been publicly
deserving. It strengthened virtue, and gave it the
additional stimulus of admiring sympathy:
Or, again—for the benefit of members from the rural
districts—applauded virtue grows by praise, and
glory has a mighty impulse. (Loud cheers.) This
impulse a generous people would not fail to supply
abundantly to such true hero-hearts as Farragut
and Sherman. (Loud applause.) The one has
proved that an iron-clad admiral is superior to an
iron-clad navy, illi robur et œs triplex—(applause and
laughter)—while the other, like some new Colossus,
has bestridden our continent from the mountain
ranges of Tennessee to the long, shelving
shores of the Atlantic, the thunderbolts of war in
his right hand, and the olive branch of peace in
the other, offering its shadow and protection to all
who would again swear fealty to the banner which
it is his noble mission to uphold. (Loud applause.)
Before concluding, General Dix would briefly
refer to his order directing our troops to pursue all
rebel burglars and cut-throats across the Canadian
frontier, if essential to their capture. (Shouts of
applause, the health of General Dix being proposed
by a dozen voices, and receiving all the
honors as if by universal impulse.) That order,
they were aware, for which he felt proud to receive
their plaudits, had been revoked; and to the decision
which revoked it, he, as a soldier, bowed with
all due humility. (Peals of derisive laughter,
the General giving this last sentence, as Artemus
Ward would say, “with intense suckkasm.”)
But in his private capacity he respectfully differed
from those in authority over him as to the merits
of the question when judged by the standard of
international law. (Loud Cheers.) “The right
of hot pursuit,” as it is called, or as Grotius expresses
it, dum fervet opus, is one of the best established
in the code of international obligations.
It was asserted by General Jackson against the
Spaniards in regard to the frontiers of Florida;
and it remained for our present Secretary of State
to repudiate this great democratic authority in
regard to Great Britain. (Patriots applaud again,
with some hisses for the “little silver bell.”) General
Dix had no doubt that the policy which
revoked his order might be abundantly justified
by considerations of immediate expediency: but,
if so, the revocation should have avowed as its
motive a mere temporary pressure, rendering the
present enforcement of the right impolitic, while
broadly reaffirming as a principle “the right of
hot pursuit” which had formed the basis of his
order. (Ringing applause, and cries of “Good,
good.” “We think as you do.” “Their neutrality
be damned,” &c.) General Dix felt that,
though the order had been revoked, it yet had its
effect, and that effect a good one. He felt that in
it he had reared himself a monument which should
not pass away—Exegi monumentum œre perennius
—and was already satisfied that the American
people would do justice to his motives, and that
history would date a new era in our relations with
England from the promulgation of that order, in
which he was happy to add, the honorable Secretary
of War had most cordially supported him.
(Intense applause, Mr. Brady proposing “Success
to the Fenian Brotherhood: the day of our war
with England enrols every able-bodied true Irishman,
both here and in Canada, under the banner
of the Union!”) General Dix felt that he had
detained them longer than he had intended, and
yet had done but scanty justice to his subject.
For his classical quotations he pleaded the example
of his Commander-in-Chief, the President; and
all who heard him should believe that it was not
the wish to do full justice to his subject which was
wanting, but the long want of practice in speeches
of this kind. Non deerat voluntas sed facultas.
(Loud applause, amid which the General resumed
his seat, being warmly complimented by Messrs.
Brady, O'Gorman, Van Buren, Doremus, Chamberlain,
Frederick Hudson, and many others.)

AN ARMY AND NAVY TOAST—HEALTHS OF FARRAGUT
AND THOMAS.

The joint healths of Admiral Farragut and
General George H. Thomas were now formally
proposed by General Hancock, and were drunk
with all the honors, the whole company standing
up, waving their napkins and cheering until the
room rang again, while the band played eloquently

A SONG FROM GOV. ANDREW, OF MASSACHUSETTS.

Apropos to the toast they had just drunk, Mr.
Van Buren would have much pleasure in calling
upon their honored guest, Governor Andrew of
Massachusetts, for a song or sentiment, earnestly
hoping it might be the former. In addition to a
memory so stored with songs and poems, that
those who knew him could only wonder how he
found room in his head for the many thousand
other interests which so constantly pressed upon
him, and of which, in all situations, he had proved
himself so complete a master,—their friend, the

Governor, was blessed with a voice of unusual
compass, flexibility, and culture; and although
aware that he could rarely be tempted to display
his vocal powers in public, the Chairman would
still hope that the greatness of this occasion, their
desire to pay all possible honor to the names that
have been introduced, and the semi-private character
of the entertainment, might induce their distinguished
guest to relax his usual rule of silence.
(Loud applause, and vehement urgings followed,
with which Governor Andrew at last good-naturedly
complied.)

The Governor is one of those broad-chested,
large-throated men, with a noble baritone voice;
and although he is, by repeated election, the special
representative of a Puritan State, few of our most
light-hearted youth could have given the following
words with more drollery or fire.

“Play,” he said, sending by one of the waiters to
the bandmaster; “play that one of Moore's Melodies
called `Fill the Bumper Fair,' and I'll try
what I can do with it. Gentlemen,” he added,
addressing the company, with a smile of infectious
merriment; “You must be sure you never let my
blue-light, Old Bay State constituents know what
I have been doing.” (Loud cries of “They shall
never know it from us,” with a suggestion from
Colonel Hardie that General Dix should issue an
order to “shoot on the spot” any reporter who

should be guilty of making public this deeply interesting
incident. (Loud laughter.)

Governor Andrew then cleared his throat with
a glass of Muscatelle, and sang as follows. He
called it his

A BAY STATE TRIUMPH—HOW THE SONG WAS RECEIVED.

No song that we have heard for many years
could be pronounced, including all its accessories,
a more decided triumph than this; all the company,
with the exception of the two reverend
gentlemen present, joining enthusiastically in the
chorus, which was led by Captain Barstow, A.D.C.,
and Messrs. Theodore and R. B. Roosevelt, who
have voices of great compass and delightful culture.
On its conclusion a number of gentlemen
pressed round Governor Andrew with congratulations
and thanks, prominent among whom we
noticed Dr. Durant, of the Pacific Railroad; Col.

Frank E. Howe, of the New England Relief
Rooms; Colonel Sandford, of the American Telegraph;
and S. L. M. Barlow, Esq., gold controller
and democratic politician, of Madison Square and
William street.

SLIGHT ODOR OF COPPER—MR. O'GORMAN SPEAKS.

Mr. Richard O'Gorman, being now called for,
desired briefly to remark that, in every word that
had fallen from the gallant and learned gentleman
(bowing to General Dix) who had addressed them
just previous to the pleasure (bowing to Governor
Andrew) they had just had, he (Mr. O'Gorman)
desired most cordially to concur—(applause)—perhaps
most cordially in those portions of the General's
glowing peroration which referred to the
“right of hot pursuit” over British soil; and to
General Sherman as holding the “olive branch”
in one hand, while wielding a sword in the other.
(Applause, and some dissent.) The olive was a
briny vegetable, which, to-night, they had all found
pleasant with their wine (applause and merriment);
but about the metaphorical “olive branch,” to
which General Dix had made allusion, no trace of
bitterness, or “the salt rheum of grief,” could be
found. It was the healer of miseries; the only
fan by which eventually the briny tears of our
civil discord could be dried away. There was a

time for the sword and a time for the olive branch,
and he rejoiced in the victories they had met to
celebrate. But, brilliant as were our late successes,
he feared they could never be made to blossom
into the peace of a restored Union, unless
properly supported by liberal and catholic proffers
of amnesty, oblivion, and the restoration of civil
rights. (Applause and some dissent.)

OIL (“OLIVE”) ON THE TROUBLED WATERS.

The Chairman desired to state that, if he were
called upon to express his opinions, he would concur
with every sentiment uttered by the last speaker,
whom he hoped to see elected Counsel to the
Corporation next year. But as they had met to
pay honor to two gallant and successful soldiers,
and as he saw around him men of all political
creeds, it might be best to avoid the discussion of
such topics; and he would therefore call upon
Captain Blake, of the headquarters in Bleecker
street, for one of those humorous Irish songs
which had made him so famous in the social circle.
All knew that the Blakes, Burkes, and Bodkins,
were the three great Galway families; and he
would beg to introduce to the company his friend
Captain Blake as a worthy representative of that
Milesian ilk.

CAPTAIN BLAKE, A.D.C., OF GALWAY—A SONG FOR
HIS SUPPER.

Captain Blake, who is tall and sinewy, with a
Wellington nose, and hair of that peculiar tinge
now so popular at the Parisian Court and with all
our hairdressers, at once complied with the request—
only hesitating a moment as to whether he should
“rowl out” for them the Cruiskeen Lawn, the
Shann Van Voght, or the Suil, Suil, Suil Aroon, in
his native Irish tongue; or the “Groves of
Blarney” in Anglo-Saxon. Being told, however,
that, after the flood of foreign learning in a preceding
speech, the company would not now object
to a little English, and learning also that the
“Groves of Blarney” must be held in reserve to
be sung by Judge John R. Brady, the gallant
Captain decided upon another lyric—supposed to
be from the pen of Private Miles O'Reilly,
Forty-seventh regiment, New York Volunteers—
a copy of which we subjoin. He sang it to the
air of “How happy could I be with either,” and it
was called:

Every stanza of the foregoing called forth its
full share of applause and merriment, Prince John
Van Buren remarking that a copy should at once
be sent to General Joe Hooker, who, as he heard,
was about marrying a fair widow hailing from
Cincinnati, Chicago, or some of our western villages.

GEN. HOOKER ABOUT ASSUMING A NEW COMMAND.

Senator Conness begged to correct the honorable
gentleman who had spoken last. The intended
bride of “Fighting Joe” was young, ardent,
beautiful, and in the first sweet roseate flush
of her maiden purity. “She loved Joe for the
perils he had passed, and he loved her because she
pitied him.” The marriage would take place before
the crocus broke through the snows of our
earliest spring; and General Hooker, lifted into
the seventh heaven of his desires, would have
another “battle above the clouds.” (Roars of
laughter.)

Mr. O'Gorman only desired to protest against

the quotation Mr. Conness had used—a quotation
from the scandalous play of Othello, describing
the marriage of a colored soldier to the white
daughter of a Venetian Senator. He regarded
that play as the earliest “miscegenation document”
of our last campaign for the Presidency. (Loud
laughter and applause, the Rev. Mr. Beecher crying
“A hit—a most palpable hit!”)

SECRETARY STANTON ON THE RAMPAGE—HIS LETTER
TO MR. BRADY.

In response to repeated invitations, Mr. James
T. Brady said that he had no speech to make, but
would gladly read to them a letter from Secretary
Stanton, which he had received just as he was
leaving home that evening to attend this patriotic
festival. It was a good letter, and had in it all
its writer's characteristic brevity and point. It ran
as follows:

The laconic and tart humor of this characteristic
note created much amusing comment; Governor
Andrew remarking that the sting of the affair
could not, fortunately, apply to him, as he had
made honorable mention of Mr. Stanton's beard
and spectacles in his “Song of the Christmas
Holidays.” (Loud laughter.)

ENTRANCE OF THE TWELVE CHORISTERS.

Just at this moment the door on the chairman's
right was flung open, and Mr. Stuart, of the
Winter Garden, appeared, ushering in twelve
happy-looking boys arrayed as choristers. They
were all attired in white linen surplices, with clerical
sleeves, small red woollen hoods hanging back
between their shoulders, and a broad blue band
of satin passing round the neck of each and falling
down in double lappels over the white surplice
until almost touching the ground. Each of these
little fellows carried a bouquet in his hand, and as
they filed off in sixes, half upon each side of Prince
Van Buren's chair, at the head of the table,
the tableau was extremely picturesque, and created
not a little surprise.

INTRODUCTORY REMARKS BY MR. STUART.

Mr. Stuart explained that, on behalf of the
Club, of which he was an unworthy member, he
had volunteered to superintend the production of
a little choral duet, or New Year's anthem, appropriate
to the happy prospects of peace we have
now before us. The words of this choral duet, or
anthem—he scarcely knew what to call it—he believed
he would commit no indiscretion in stating,
had been furnished by one of the reverend gentlemen
at present in this room. (Questioning looks
from the guests toward Mr. Beecher and the Rev.
Morgan Dix, but neither made any sign.) With
the good leave of the company—all of whom he
should be delighted to see at the Winter Garden
any evening, or at his sea-side villa near New
London, on any Friday afternoon they could run
down to spend a couple of days with him—he
would now call upon the first chorus of his young
and interesting charge to commence, the band
being requested to accompany them slowly, and
only on their softest instruments. (Hushed applause,
the company evidently awaiting with much
curiosity and interest to hear what was to come.)

SONG OF THE CHORISTERS.

The little choristers being divided into two
equal bands, the first chorus of six sang the first

two of the following stanzas; the second chorus
of six, the next two; and then all twelve sweet
young voices joined in giving pathos and sublimity
to the two final verses. It was, like all that
Mr. Stuart produces, “an immense success”—its
idea having been given to him by some “games
of Christmas” that he had long ago witnessed at
the house of his honored friend, Mr. Gladstone,
the celebrated English scholar, orator, and statesman.
With these matters explained before-hand,
—thus bringing the whole scene before the reader
as vividly as it was brought before the guests,—we
now give the words of this peculiar and striking
anthem, which was sung to the well known old
English air of “Art Thou not Fondly My
Own:”—

PRESENTATION OF BOUQUETS BY THE CHORISTERS.

This anthem was received with the compliment
of breathless attention during its progress; and
fervent, but not noisy approval, as the echoes of
the last lines died slowly away, as if trembling
reluctantly into silence. Mr. Stuart received the
thanks, and his young charge the compliments,
of all present—six of the young choristers then
filing off and presenting their bouquets to General
Anderson, the first hero of our war; and the
others giving one bouquet each to the three senior
military and three senior naval officers who were
present. In their dresses of “red, white and blue,”
and with their young, bright, happy faces, this
scene was not only pretty, but impressive to a
degree seldom realized. The eyes of General
Anderson filled with happy tears, and his voice
was quite broken with emotion as he attempted
to thank and address them.

LAST SCENE OF ALL—BREAKING UP OF A DELIGHTFUL
PARTY.

The conclusion of this ceremony appeared the
signal for a breaking up of the graver part of the
audience; Generals Dix, Hunter, and Anderson,
Governor Andrew, the reverend gentlemen, and
many others at once retiring—as shortly after did

your reporter, being in a hurry to prepare these
notes. When he left, Dr. Durant was discoursing
about the Adirondacks; George Francis Train
about the Pacific Railroad; Captain Fox about
Monitor-built Iron-clads; General Webb about
bounty-swindling in New York, and the operations
of Gen. F. B. Spinola in that connection
at Lafayette Hall; Mr. Dana, with General Hartsuff,
on the true principles of strategy; while
Swinton was growing eloquent and pugnacious
(all by himself) over Hooker's fight at Lookout
Mountain. Messrs. Brady, Pierrepont, Van Buren,
Barlow and the other young bucks of that ilk kept
sloshing around indiscriminately, each satisfied
that his own speech was a capital speech and full
of interest, and that if all the others in the room
would not stop talking to listen to it—why so
much the worse for them!

Thus endeth our account of one of the pleasantest
and most perfectly successful public entertainments
we have attended in many years; but we
feel that our account of this noble banquet would
be imperfect if we failed here to insert the powerful
and brilliant editorial in which, on the same
date, the veteran Editor of the Herald called attention
to the feast and its importance, both in relation
to the Soldiers' Home and our relations with
France and England. Thus wrote Mr. Bennett:

“We call the attention of all patriotic and

charitable citizens to the eloquent appeal of General
Robert Anderson and the eruditely splendid
oration of Major-General Dix, elsewhere published,
in favor of the immediate establishment of a great
National Soldiers' Home, as the fittest monument
that can be raised in token of our gratitude as a
people for the recent blessings of victory which
have been borne to us on the standards of Generals
Sherman and Thomas. It is clear enough
from Dr. Agnew's letter, published yesterday, that
nothing in the way of making a permanent provision
for our disabled heroes can be hoped for from
the Sanitary Commission, whose resources are
represented to be already overtaxed. It therefore
becomes the duty of all our patriotic fellow-citizens
to at once commence organizing a committee having
this matter of a National Soldiers' Home for
the objective point of its beneficent campaign,
there being already a grand nucleus for such a
charity to gather around, in the legacy of one
million dollars from the Roosevelt estate, which
the members of that loyal and distinguished family
are anxious to devote to such a purpose, as was
stated by Mr. R. B. Roosevelt, on their behalf, at
the banquet of the New York National Club last
evening.

“The speech of General Dix, and more especially
that portion of it referring to our difficulties
with Canada will be read with intense interest,

both in the British provinces and empire. It is
the utterance of a frank and accomplished soldier,
paying implicit obedience to the authority which
revoked his recent order, but still not afraid to
reässert, with firmness and dignity, his individual
judgment in favor of a stronger and less hesitating
course. The tumultuous applause with which this
portion of the General's speech was received, by
an audience embracing representative men of all
ranks and classes, should be a lesson not without
significance and results to Mr. Secretary Seward.”