University of Virginia Library

SECOND STORY:
ACCOUNT OF A CONSULATE.

JULIUS CæSAR was a Consul, and the first Bonaparte;
and so was I.

I do not think that I am possessed of any very extraordinary
ambition. I like comfort, I like mushrooms;
(truffles I do not like). I think Lafitte is a
good wine, and wholesome. Gin is not to my taste,
and I never attended caucuses. Therefore, I had never
entertained great expectations of political preferment,
and lived for a considerable period of years without any
hopes in that way, and with a very honest indifference.

And yet, when my name actually appeared in the
newspapers, as named by appointment of the President,
Consul to — Blank, I felt, I will confess (if I may use
such an expression), an unusual expansion. I felt confident
that I had become on a sudden the subject of a
good deal of not unnatural envy. I excused people for
it, and never thought of blaming or of resenting it.

My companions in the every-day walks of life, I treated,
I am satisfied, with the same consideration as
before.

In short, I concealed my elation as much as possible,
and only indulged the playful elasticity of my
spirits in a frequent private perusal of that column
of the New York Times which made the announcement
of my appointment, and where my name appeared
in print, associated with those of the distinguished Mr.
Soulé, Mr. Greaves (I believe), Mr. Daniels, Mr.
Brown, Mr. McCrea, and a great many others.

I cannot accurately describe my feelings when the
postmaster of our town (a smart gentleman of great
tact, but now turned out), handed me a huge packet
from the Department of State, franked by Mr. Marcy
(evidently his own hand had traced the lines), sealed
with the large seal of the Department, and addressed to
me, Mr. Blank, Consul of the United States for —
Blank. I took the postmaster by the hand and endeavored
to appear cool. I think I made some casual
remark about the weather. Good heavens, what a
hypocrite!

I broke open the packet with emotion. It contained
a notice (I think it was in the Secretary's hand) of my
appointment to — Blank. It contained a printed
list of foreign ministers and consuls, in which my name
was entered in writing. In the next issue, I was sure it

would appear in print. It contained a published pamphlet
(quite thin) of instructions. It contained a circular,
on paper of a blue tinge, recommending modest dress.
I liked the friendly way in which the recommendation
was conveyed; not absolutely compelling, but advising
—a black coat, and black pantaloons. In the warmth
of my grateful feelings at that time, I think I should
have vowed compliance if the Secretary had advised
saffron shorts, and a sky-blue tail-coat.

There was, beside, in the packet a blank of a bond,
to be filled up in the sum of two thousand dollars, as a
kind of guarantee for the safe return of such consular
property as I might find at — Blank. I was
gratified at being able to render such a substantial
evidence of my willingness to incur risks for the
sake of my country, and of the Administration. It was
necessary, however, that two good bondsmen should
sign the instrument with me. I knew I should have no
difficulty in finding them. I asked two of my friends to
come forward in the matter. They came forward
promptly; and without an arrière-pensée (to make use
of an apt foreign expression) they put their names to
the bond. I should be tempted to give their names
here, did I not know their modesty would be offended
by public notice.

I sent the instrument to Washington in a large envelope,
with a mention in one corner, in my own handwriting,—“

Official Business.” I did not drop it into
the outside box of the office, but presented it with my
own hands through the trap to the clerk. The clerk
read the address, and turned toward me with a look
of consideration that I never saw upon his face before.
And yet (so deceitful is human pride), I blew my nose
as if nothing of importance had happened! I knew
that the clerk would mention the circumstance of the
“Official” letter to the second clerk, and that both
would look at me with wonder when they next met me
in the street, or gazed on me in my pew at the church.
In short, I cannot describe my feelings.

A few days after, I received one or two letters in
handwriting unknown to me; they proved to be applications
for clerkships in my consular bureau. I replied
to them in a civil, but perhaps rather stately manner,
informing the parties that I was not yet aware of the
actual income of the office, but if appearances were
favorable, I promised to communicate further.

A friend suggested to me that perhaps, before assuming
so important a trust, it would be well to make
a short trip to the seat of government, and confer personally
with the members of the Cabinet. The suggestion
seemed to me judicious. I should in this way
be put in possession of the special views of the Administration,
and be better able to conduct the business of
my office, in agreement with the Government views of

international policy, and the interests of the world generally.
It is true, the cost of the journey would be
something, but it was not a matter to be thought of in
an affair of so grave importance. I therefore went to
Washington.

In a city where so many consuls are (I might say)
annually appointed, it was not to be expected that my
arrival would create any unusual stir. Indeed it did
not. If I might be allowed the expression of opinion
on such a point, I think that the inn-keeper gave me
a room very near the roof—for a consul. I called almost
immediately on my arrival at the office of the
Secretary of State. I was told that the Secretary of
State was engaged, but was recommended by his door-keeper
to enter my name at the bottom of a long list in
his possession, in order that I might secure my turn for
admittance. I represented my official character to the
door-keeper. I could not discover that his countenance
altered in the least; he, however, kindly offered to present
me at the door of the consular bureau.

The gentlemen of that department received me graciously,
and congratulated me, I thought, in a somewhat
gleeful manner, considering their responsible positions,
upon my appointment. At my request they showed me
some communications which were on file from the consular
office I was destined to fill. There were a few
letters on foolscap, and a few on note paper. They did

not seem to me to come up altogether to the “Instructions.”
I made a remark to that effect, which appeared
to be unobserved.

Among other papers was a list of the effects belonging
to the consular office at — Blank. It read, if I
remember rightly:

“One Small Flag.

“One Brass Stamp.

“One Pewter do.

“Two Books of Record.

“Nine Blank Passports.

“One broken-legged Table.

“Two Office Stools (old).

“One `Arms' (good condition).”

I must say I was surprised at this list. It seemed
to me there was some discrepancy between the two
thousand dollar bond I had signed, and the value of the
effects of which I was to come into possession. It
seemed to me, however, that furniture and things of
that sort might be dear in so distant a country. I had
no doubt they were. I hinted as much to the clerk in
attendance.

He said he thought they might be.

“Nous verrons,” said I, at which he smiled and said,
“Oh, you know the language, then?”

I said I should know it; only the place was Italian,
and the remark I had just made was in the French language.

“Oh dear, well,” said he, “I don't think it makes
any difference.”

I told him “I hoped it wouldn't.”

“Its rare they know the language,” said he, picking
a bit of lint off from his coat-sleeve.

I felt encouraged at this.

“Only take a small dictionary along,” continued
he.

I asked if there was one belonging to the office?

He thought not.

I asked him, then, how much he thought the place
was worth?

At this he politely showed me an old account of
“returns.” It seemed to be a half-yearly account,
though some of the half-years were skipped apparently,
and the others, I really thought, might as well have
been skipped. Indeed I was not a little taken aback
at the smallness of the sums indicated. I daresay I
showed as much in my face, for the clerk told me, in a
confidential way, that he doubted if the returns were
full. He thought they might be safely doubled. I
thought, for my own part, that there would not be much
safety in doubling them even.

The clerk further hinted, that within a short time
such positions would be of more value; there was to be
a revisal of the consular system.

I told him I had heard so; as, indeed, I had, any

time and many times within the last ten or fifteen years.
Beside which—there was my country!
(to quote a popular piece of poetry), who would not
serve his country, even if the fees are small?

And again, the returns were doubtless misrepresented:
indeed, I had heard of a private boast from a
late incumbent of the post, to the effect that “he had
lived in clover.” I had no doubt, in my own mind,
that the Government had, in some way, paid for the
clover.

I was disappointed, finally, in respect to an interview
with the Secretary of State. I had the honor,
however, while at Washington, of a presentation to the
Under-Secretary. I do not think that he was aware of
my appointment, or, indeed, that he had ever heard of
me before; though he made a kind effort to recall me
to remembrance; and, in any event was pleased (he
said) to make my acquaintance. He expressed himself
to the effect that men of character were needed for
Government offices.

I told him I thought they were.

The instructions ordered that I should give information
to the Department of the time of my sailing for my
foreign destination, with the name of the port at which
I was to embark, and of the ship. This I did—as the

instructions enjoined—upon foolscap. I must not omit
to mention, that I was provided with a special passport
—not, indeed, bearing the usual insignia of the eagle
and darts, but an autograph passport, designating in
good English my rank and destination, and inviting
foreign Governments generally to show me the attention
due to my official capacity.

I put this in my portmanteau, together with a pocket
edition of Vattel On the Law of Nations, for private
reference, and also a small dictionary. With these, I
bade my friends adieu, shaking them cheerfully by the
hand, and from the poop of the ship waved a farewell
to my country. The professed travel-writers—such as
Bayard Taylor—describe these things a great deal better.
I can only say that, with a very bitter feeling in
my chest, I went below, where I remained the most of
the time until we reached the other side.

When I arrived in France—where I was not personally
known—I trusted very much to the extraordinary
passport which I carried, and which I had no doubt
would make considerable impression upon the officials.
Indeed, a timid man who had made the voyage with
me, and who was in some way made aware of my consular
capacity (though I never hinted it myself,) ventured
to hope that I would give him my assistance in
case his papers were not all right. I promised I would
do so. I may say that I felt proud of the application.

I walked with great confidence into the little receiving-room
of the police, guided by two soldiers who wore
caps very much like a reversed tin-kettle, and presented
my special passport. The chief of the office looked at
it in a very hard manner, and then passed it to his
neighbor. I was certainly prepared for a look of consideration
on their part. On the contrary, I thought
they examined me with a good deal of impertinent
scrutiny.

At length one of them said, with an air of confidence,
“Vous êtes Anglais?”—You are English?

I could not help saying—using the French form of
expression—“Mon Dieu!—no!”

And I proceeded to tell him what I really was, and
that the passport was an American passport, and of an
official character. The officers looked at it again, and
seemed to consult for a while together; at length one
said, “C'est égal—it's all the same”—asked me my
name, and, with some hesitation, placed his seal upon
the instrument. In this way I was let into France.
The timid man who had voyaged with me, had, meantime,
sidled away. I suspect he must have gone up to
Paris by an early train, for I did not meet with him
again. I hope he had no trouble.

There was not very much made of my dignity in
any part of France; but not being accredited to that
country, I felt no resentment, and enjoyed Paris perhaps

as much as any merely private citizen could do. To
prevent, however, any mistake in future about my passport,
I printed in large characters and in the French
language, upon the envelope, “Passport of Blank, Consul
of the United States of America, for — Blank.”

This was a good hit, and was, I found, readily understood.
The landlord, with whom I staid while in
Paris (an obliging man) made up his bill against the
title in full. It was pleasant to have recognition.

I continued my journey in excellent spirits. I think
it was on the road through Switzerland that I fell in
with a chatty personage in the coupé of the diligence;
and having at one time to hand my passport to a soldier
at a frontier station, the paper came under the eye of
my companion of the coupé. He was charmed to have
the honor of my acquaintance. He expressed an excessive
admiration for my country and my fellow-members
of the Government.

I asked him if he had ever been in the United States?
He said he had not; but he had a friend, he told me,
who once touched at Guadaloupe, and found the climate
delightful.

I told him, in all kindness, that the United States
did not reach as far as that.

“Comment?” said he.

I repeated, that at the time I left, the West Indies
were not included in the United States.

“Oh, çà arrivera!” said he; and he made a progressive
gesture with his two hands, as if he would embrace
the flank of the diligence horses.

He asked me if the country was generally flat?

I told him it was a good deal so.

“But, mon Dieu!” said he, “what fevers and
steamboats you have—vous avez là bas!”

In short, he proved a very entertaining companion;
and upon our arrival at the station of the Customs, he
presented me, with a good deal of ceremony, to the
presiding officer as the Consul of the United States.
It was the first time (indeed, one of the few times)
upon which I had received official recognition. The
Customsman bowed twice, and I bowed twice in return.
The presentation proved very serviceable to me, as
it was the means of relieving me from a very serious
difficulty shortly after.

My passport, as I have already remarked, was
wholly in manuscript; and the only characters at all
conspicuous in it were those which made up the name
of “Wm. L. Marcy.” I do not mean to attribute to
that gentleman the vanity of wishing to appear more
important than the Consul, even in the instrument with
which I was fortified. But the truth was, that the Secretary
of State's signature, being in his stout autograph,
was quite noticeable in contrast with the light, clerkly
flourishes by which it was surrounded.

In short, it was presumed at the guard-house that
my papers gave protection—if they gave protection to
anybody (which seems to have been doubted)—to Mr.
Wm. L. Marcy. I was entered, therefore, upon the
police record under that name. But on discovery of
the fact that my luggage bore a different address, it
was further presumed that Mr. Marcy had purloined
the effects of another party; and under this apprehension,
I came very near being placed in confinement.

I explained the matter eagerly, but had considerable
difficulty in making the officials understand that I was
really not Mr. Marcy; and not being Mr. Marcy, could
not be accused of any misdeeds attributable to that gentleman.
I furthermore explained, as well as I was
able, that Mr. Marcy was a grand homme (and here the
French came gracefully to my aid)—that he was, in
short, a man of great distinction—highly esteemed in
the country from which I came, and absolutely retained
there by his official duties, making it utterly impossible
for him to be travelling just now upon the Continent of
Europe, even with his own luggage—setting aside the
calumny of his having taken possession of another
man's.

I fear, however, that all would have been of no
avail, if the Customsman had not been sent for, and
had not come gallantly to my relief. I was indebted to
him—under Providence—for my escape.

Upon arrival at my port of destination, I was evidently
regarded with considerable suspicion. In common
with some fifty others, I was packed in a small
barrack-room until decision should be had upon our
papers of admission. After very much earnest study
of my passport, both within and without, the chief of
the examining department (who was a scholarly man
deputed for that employment) seemed to understand that
I had come in the professed quality of Consul.

He asked me, in a solemn tone, if the fact was as
he had surmised?

I told him, eagerly, that he was quite correct.

Upon this he gave me a ticket of admission, authorizing
me to enter the town, and advising me to apply
in two days' time at the bureau of police for my passport
or a permit of residence.

I took lodgings at a respectable hotel, and was presently
found out by a shrewd fellow (a Swiss, I think),
who executed the languages for the house. He wished
to know if I would like to engage him for `the sights.'

I replied in a playful way—disguising as much as
possible my dignity—that I was to stop some time;
that I was, in short, Consul for the United States, and
should probably have many leisure opportunities.

He felt sure I would. He took off his hat, and
showed tokens of respect for the office which I never
met with before—nor since.

I beg to recommend him to any party travelling in
that direction; his name is, I think, Giacomo Guarini;
aged forty-five, and broad in the shoulders, with a slight
lisp in his English.

By his advice I called at the bureau of the police,
where I made known my quality of Consul. They were
sorry, the officials said, that they had no information
of that kind. I expressed some surprise, and stated
that I had the honor to bring the information myself—
alluding to the passport.

They observed that, though this information was
very good for me, as coming from my Government, it
was hardly so good for them, who awaited all such information
from their Government. Not having yet consulted
Vattel very thoroughly, I did not deem it prudent
to reply hastily to this first diplomatic proposition. If,
indeed, there had been an eagle on the passport—!

The officials informed me that, if I wished to stay
in the town, I could do so by paying ten zwanzigers
(about a dollar and a half our money) for a permit.

I asked how it would be if I purchased no such
permit?

In that case I must leave (though it was very kindly
expressed).

I reflected that, all things considered, it would be
better to stay. My experience with my passport, thus
far, had not been such as to warrant any great reliance

on that instrument. Indeed, I think I should advise a
friend anticipating travel (for pleasure), to provide himself
with a private passport.

This point being settled, I looked over my official
papers and found a letter addressed by the Secretary of
State to the “Present Incumbent” of the office, requesting
him to deliver into my keeping the seals, flags,
stools, and arms of the office.

I made inquiries regarding him. Nobody about
the hotel seemed to know him, or, indeed, ever to have
heard of him. I had fortunately a private letter to a
banker of the town (exceedingly useful to me afterward).
I called upon him, and renewed my inquiries. He
regretted, he said, to inform me that Mr. —, the
late acting Consul, had only the last week committed
suicide by jumping out of his office-window into the
dock.

I must confess that I was shocked by this announcement.
I hoped it was not owing to any embarrassments
arising out of his official position. The banker, who
was a polite man, regretted that he could not inform me.

I must not omit to mention that the letter of the
Secretary of State, requesting the supposed incumbent
to deliver up the papers, the seals, the stools, etc., contained
(through some error of the clerk) the name of
some other person than myself as the proper recipient;
so that I had, from the time of my landing in Europe,

entertained considerable doubt about the success of my
application. It was then with a feeling of some relief—
tempered by humane regrets—that I learned of the untimely
fate of the individual to whom the official demand
was addressed. I at once destroyed the letter which
might have invalidated my claim, and pursued my inquiries
in regard to the papers, the flag, the stamps, and
the stools.

Through the kindness of my banker I succeeded in
tracing them to the office of a Jewish ship-broker, whom
I found wrapped in a bear-skin coat, and smoking a
very yellow meerschaum. He spoke English charmingly.
He said he had succeeded (I could scarce tell
how) to the late incumbent.

I asked about the suicide.

The Israelite tapped his forehead with his skinny
fore-finger, waved it back and forth for a moment, and
left me in a very distressing state of perplexity.

I asked after the flag, the sign-board, the table, etc.
He said they were deposited in his garret, and should be
delivered up whenever I desired. He informed me further
that he knew of my appointment through a paragraph
in Galignani's Messenger. It seemed an odd way
of establishing my claim, to be sure; but from the experience
I had already found with my passport, I thought
it was not worth while to shake the Jewish gentleman's
belief by referring him to that instrument.

I borrowed the ship-broker's seal—the consular seal
—and addressed a note to the chief authority of the port
(in obedience to home instructions), informing him of
my appointment. I furthermore addressed a large letter
to the `Department,' acquainting them with my safe
arrival, and with the sad bereavement of the State in
the loss of the late acting Consul. (I learned afterward
that he had been a small ship-broker, of Hebrew extraction,
and suspected of insanity.)

The governor of the port replied to me after a few
days, informing me, courteously, that whenever the
Central Government should be pleased to recognise my
appointment, he would acquaint me with that fact.

My next object was to find lodgings; and as the
instructions enjoined attendance from ten until four, it
was desirable that the office should be an agreeable one,
and, if possible, contiguous to sleeping quarters.

The old Jewish gentleman, indeed, kindly offered to
relieve me of all the embarrassments of the business;
but I showed him a copy of the new instructions, which
would not admit of my taking into employ any other
than a naturalized citizen. I thought he seemed amused
at this; he certainly twisted his tongue within his cheek
in a very peculiar manner. Still he was courteous.

I succeeded at length in finding very airy quarters,
with a large office—connected with the sleeping apartment
by a garden. A bell-rope was attached to the office

door, and the bell being upon the exterior wall, within
the garden, could be distinctly heard throughout the
apartment. This arrangement proved a very convenient
one. As only three or four American ships were
understood to arrive in the course of the year, and as
the office was damp and mouldy—being just upon the
water's side—I did not think it necessary (viewing the
bell) to remain there constantly from ten until four. I
sincerely hope that the latitude which I took in this respect
will be looked on favorably by the Home Government.
Indeed, considering the frequent travel of my
fellow-diplomats the past season, I think I may without
exaggeration presume upon indulgence.

I remained quietly one or two weeks waiting for
recognition. Occasionally I walked down by the outer
harbor to enjoy the sight of an American bark which
just then happened to be in port, and whose commander
I had the honor of meeting at the office of the Jewish
ship-broker.

After six weeks of comparative quietude—broken
only by mailing an occasional large letter[1] to the Department—I
assumed, under official sanction, the bold

step of taking possession of the seals, the papers, the
stools, the flag, and the arms. They were conveyed to
me, on the twelfth of the month, in a boat. I shall not
soon forget the occasion. The sun shone brightly. The
“arms” filled up the bow of the skiff; the papers, the
stools, and the flag, were lying in the stern-sheets. I
felt a glow at sight of the flag, though it was small and
somewhat torn. If the office should prove lucrative, I
determined to buy another at my own cost. The sign-board,
or “arms” was large—larger than any I had yet
seen in the place; much larger than the Imperial arms
over the Governor's doors. I should say it must have
been six feet long by four broad. The eagle was grand,
and soared upon a blue sky; the olive branch, in imitation
of nature, was green; the darts of a lively red.

And yet, I must admit, it seemed to me out of all
proportion to the flag and to the shipping. I thought it
must have been ordered by a sanguine man. It reminded
me of what I had heard of the United States
arms, erected in the Crystal Palace of London. I feared
it was too large for the business. I never liked, I
must confess, that sort of disproportion. If I might use
a figurative expression,—I should say that I had never
a great fancy for those fowls which crow loudly, but
never lay any eggs.

If the “arms” had been of ordinary size, I should
have raised it upon my roof. My serving man was

anxious to do so. But I reflected that only one American
ship was then in port; that it was quite uncertain
when another would arrive. I reflected that the office-furniture
was inconsiderable; even one of the stools alluded
to in the official list brought to my notice at
Washington, had disappeared; and instead of nine
blank passports there were now only seven. I therefore
retained the sign in my office, though it filled up valuable
space there. I gave a formal receipt for the flag,
the stamps, the arms, the stool, the table, the record
books, and for a considerable budget of old papers in a
very tattered condition.

Two days after, I received a bill from the late Jewish
incumbent to the amount of twenty-five dollars, for
repairs to flag and “arms.” Having already given a
receipt for the same, and communicated intelligence
thereof to the seat of government, I felt reluctantly
compelled to decline payment; I proposed, however, to
forward the bill to the Department with all the necessary
vouchers. The Jewish broker finding the matter
was assuming this serious aspect, told me that the fee
was a usual one on a change of consulate; and assured
me jocularly, that as the consulate was changed on an
average every eighteen months, the sign-board was the
most profitable part of the business. I observed, indeed,
that the paint was very thick upon it; and it appeared
to have been spliced on one or two occasions.

There arrived, not long after, to my address, by the
way of the Marseilles steamer, a somewhat bulky package.
I conjectured that it contained a few knick-knacks,
which I had requested a friend to forward to me from a
home port. By dint of a heavy bribe to the customs
men, added to the usual port charges, I succeeded in
securing its delivery without delay. It proved to be a
set of the United States Statutes at Large, heavily bound
in law calf. A United States eagle was deeply branded
upon the backs of the volumes. There was evidently a
distrust of the consular character. The thought of this,
in connection with the late suicide, affected me painfully.
I thought—looking upon the effects around me
—that I should not like to be reduced so far as to rob
my consulate!

I found many hours of amusement in looking over
the records of the office; they were very brief, especially
in the letter department. And on comparing the condition
of the records with my consular instructions, I was
struck with an extraordinary discrepancy. The law,
for instance, enjoined copies to be made of all letters
dispatched from the office; but with the exception of
three or four, dated some fifteen years back, I could not
find that any had been entered. Indeed, one of my
predecessors had taken a very short, and as it seemed
to me, a very ingenious method of recording correspondence—in
this way:

“April 1. Wrote Department, informing them of
arrival.

“June 5. Wrote the Governor.

“June 7. Received reply from the Governor, saying
he had got my letter.

“June 9. Wrote the Governor, blowing up the
postoffice people for breaking open my letters.

“July. Wrote home for leave of absence, and quit
the office.”

I think it was about a week after the installment of
the flag and arms in my office, that I received a very
voluminous packet from a native of the port, who gave
me a great many titles, and informed me in the language
of the country (in exceedingly fine writing), that he was
the discoverer of a tremendous explosive machine, calculated
to destroy fleets at a great distance, and to put
an end to all marine warfare. He intimated that he
was possessed of republican feelings, and would dispose
of his discovery to the United States—for a consideration.
After a few days—during which I had accomplished
the perusal—he called for my reply.

I asked, perhaps from impertinent curiosity, if he
had made any overtures to his own government?

He said he had.

I asked, with what success?

He said they had treated him with indignity, and
from the explanatory gestures he made use of to confirm
this statement, I have no doubt they did.

He said that genius must look for lucrative patronage
beyond the ocean, and glanced wistfully at the “arms.”
I told him—turning my own regard in the same direction—that
the United States Government was certainly
a very rich and powerful one. But, I added—
it was not in the habit of paying away large sums[2]
of money even to native genius; not even, I continued
sportively, to consular genius. I told him, if he would
draw up a plan and model of his machine, I should be
happy to inclose it in my budget of dispatches, for the
consideration of the distinguished gentleman at the head
of the Navy Department.

He asked me if I would add a strong opinion in its
favor?

I told him that I had not long been connected with
the shipping interests of my country, and was hardly
capable of forming an opinion about the merits of the
marine machine he was good enough to bring under my
notice. I was compelled further to observe, that I did
not think a very high estimate was placed by government
upon consular opinions of any sort. The poor
man seemed satisfied—looked wistfully again at the
“arms” as if they implied very extensive protection—
bade me good morning, and withdrew.

The weeks wore on, and there was no American
arrival; nor did I hear anything of my recognition by
the Central Government. I drew up in a careful manner,
two new record books in obedience to law, and
transcribed therein my various notes to the department
and foreign personages, in a manner that I am sure was
utterly unprecedented in the annals of the office. I
prepared the blank of a passport for signature—in case
one should be needed—thus reducing the effective number
of those instruments to six. I even drew up the
blank of a bill against Captain Blank (to be filled up on
arrival) for blank charges. Most of my charges, indeed,
may be said to have been blank charges.

On one occasion, about three weeks after full possession
of the “effects,” there was a violent ring at the
office bell. I hurried down with my record books and
inkstand, which I had transferred for security to my
sleeping quarters. It proved, however, to be a false
alarm: it was a servant who had rung at the wrong
door. He asked my pardon in a courteous manner, and
went away. I replaced the record books in the office
drawer, and retired to my apartment.

I think it was some two or three days after this,
when I heard of a large ship standing “off and on” at
the mouth of the harbor. I was encouraged to think,
by a friendly party, that she might be an American
vessel. I even went upon the tower of the town to have

a look at her with my spy-glass (a private spy-glass).
There was no flag flying; and she was too far off to
make her out by the rig. She came up, however, the
next day, and proved to be a British bark from Newcastle.

Matters were in this condition, the office wearing
its usual quiet air, when I was waited on one morning
by a weazen-faced little gentleman, who spoke English
with pertinacity, and a slight accent. He informed me
that he had been at one period incumbent of the office
which I now held. He asked, in a kind manner, after
the Government?

I thanked him, and told him that by last advices
they were all very well.

He said that he was familiar with the details of the
consular business, and would be happy to be of service
to me.

I thanked him in the kindest manner; but assured
him that the business was not yet of so pressing a character
as to demand an assistant. (Indeed, with the exception
of four or five letters dispatched in various
directions, and the preparation of the blanks already
alluded to, I had, in the course of two or three months,
performed no important consular act whatever.) My
visitor diverted consideration as gracefully as his English
would allow, to the climate and the society of
the port. He said he should be happy to be of service

to me in a social way; and alluded to one or two government
balls which, on different occasions, he had the
honor of attending in a consular capacity. I thanked
him again, without, however, preferring any very special
request.

After musing a moment, he resumed conversation
by asking me “if I had a coat?”

I did not fully understand him at first; and replied
at a venture, that I had several.

“Very true,” said he, “but have you the buttons?”

I saw that he alluded to the official costume, and
told him that I had not. Whereupon he said that he
had only worn his coat upon one or two occasions; and
he thought that, with a slight alteration, it would suit
admirably my figure.

I thanked him again; but taking from the drawer
the thin copy of consular instructions, I read to him
those portions which regarded the new order respecting
plain clothes. I told him, in short, that the blue and
the gilt (for I had not then heard of the re-introduction
of the dress system in various European capitals) had
utterly gone by. He seemed disappointed; but presently
recovered animation, and remarked that he had in
his possession a large American flag, which he had
purchased while holding the consular office, and which
(as the Government had declined paying for the same),

he would be happy to sell to me at a great reduction on
the original cost.

I told him that the affairs of the consulate were still
in an unsettled state; but in the event of business turning
out well, I thought that the Government might be
induced to enter into negotiations for the purchase.
(I had my private doubts of this, however.)

At my mention of the Government again, he seemed
disheartened. He soon asked me, in his broken manner
(I think he was of Dutch origin), “If the Gouverman
vass not a ittle mean about tose tings?”

I coughed at this; very much as the stationer, Mr.
Snagsby, used to cough when he made an observation
in Mrs. Snagsby's presence. But, collecting myself, I
said that the Government had shown great liberality in
the sign-board, and doubted if a larger one was to be
found in Europe. He surprised me, however, by informing
me in a prompt manner, that he had expended
a pound sterling upon it, out of his own pocket!

I hoped, mildly, that he had been reimbursed. He
replied, smartly, that he had not been. He continued
courteous, however; and would, I think, upon proper
representations on the part of the Government, be willing
to resume negotiations.

A fortnight more succeeded, during which several
bills came in—for the record books, postage, hire of
an office-boat, rent of office, beside some repairs I had

ordered to the office table. I had even gone so far as
to buy a few bottles of old wine, and a package of
Havana cigars, for the entertainment of any friendly
captains who might arrive. Affairs were in this condition
when I heard, one morning, upon the public
square of the town, that an American vessel had been
seen some miles down the gulf, and it was thought
that she might bear up for this harbor. I went home
to my rooms in a state of excitement it is quite impossible
to describe. I dusted the record books, and rubbed
up the backs of the United States Statutes at Large.
(I should have mentioned that I had added my private
copy of Vattel to the consular library; together, they
really made an imposing appearance.)

I took the precaution of oiling the pulley to the office
bell. My servant-man had hinted that it had sometimes
failed to ring. I ordered him to give it repeated
trials, while I took up a position in my apartment. It
rang distinctly, and so vigorously that I feared the occupants
of the adjoining house might be disturbed. I
therefore approached the window, and giving a concerted
signal, ordered my serving-man to abstain.

He was evidently in high spirits at the good order
in which matters stood. He renewed his proposal to
place the sign-board upon the roof of the house. I
found, however, upon inquiry, that it would involve the
labor of three men for half a day; I therefore abandoned

the idea. I authorized him, however, to apply a fresh
coating of varnish, and to place it in a conspicuous position
upon the side of the office fronting the door.

He wiped his forehead, and said it was a “disegnetto
meraviglioso”—a wonderful little design!

The wind continued for some days northerly, and no
vessel came into port. On the fourth day, however, I
received a note from a friendly party, stating that an
American bark had arrived. I gave a dollar to the
messenger who brought the news. I saw the intelligence
confirmed in the evening journal. I was in
great trepidation all the following day. At length, a
little after the town clock had struck twelve, the captain
came. I hurried into the office to meet him. He
was a tall, blear-eyed man, in a damaged black beaver
with a narrow rim, tight-sleeved black dress-coat, and
cowhide boots.

I greeted him warmly, and asked him how he was?

He thanked me, and said he was “pretty smart.”
I regretted that I had not some rum-and-water. The
old wine I did not think he would appreciate. In short,
I was disappointed in my countryman. I should not
like to have sailed with him, much less to have served
under him. Before leaving the office, he cautioned me
against a sailor who might possibly come to me with his
“cussed” complaints: he said he was an “ugly devil,”
and I had best have nothing to do with him.

True enough, the next morning a poor fellow presented
himself, speaking very broken English, and complaining
that he was sadly abused—showing, indeed, a
black eye, and a lip frightfully bloated. I ordered my
serving-man to prepare him a little breakfast. This
was not, perhaps, a legitimate consular attention, but it
proved a grateful one; and the man consumed two or
three slices of broiled ham with extraordinary relish.
After this he told me a long story of the abuses he had
undergone, and of his desire to get a discharge. I
asked him if he had an American protection? He
said he had bought one upon the dock in New York,
shortly before sailing, and had paid a half eagle for it,
but it was lost.

This was unfortunate; and upon referring to the
ship's crew list, I found that the customs' clerk had dispatched
the whole subject of nationalities in a very summary
manner. He had written the words “U. States”
up and down the sheet in such an affluent style as to
cover two-thirds, or three-quarters or, (reckoning the
flourishes of his capitals) even the whole body of the
crew. Now as some four or five of them were notoriously,
and avowedly, as foreign as foreign birth, language
and residence could make them, I was compelled
to think lightly of the authority of the customs' clerk.

The Consular Instructions, moreover, I found were
not very definite in regard to the circumstances under

which a discharge might be granted. But the most trying
difficulty of all was the fact that I was not as yet—
in the eyes of the authorities—a Consul at all. Although
I might discharge the poor fellow, I could neither
procure him admittance to the hospital, or furnish him
with such papers as would be counted valid. I could,
indeed, protect him under the shadow of the arms and
the flag; but should he tire of the broiled ham, and
venture an escapade, he might, for aught that I knew,
be clapped into prison as a vagabond.

I stated the matter to him cautiously; alluding,
with some embarrassment, to my own present lack of
authority; advising him of the comparative infrequency
of American vessels at that port; and counselling him,
in sober earnest, to stick by the ship, if possible, until
he reached an adjoining port, where he would find a
recognized consul and more abundant shipping.

The consequence was, the poor fellow slunk back to
his ship, and the captain assured me, in a gay humor,
(I fear it was his habit to joke in such matters with
brother Consuls), that he “got a good lamming for his
pains.”

When the vessel was ready to leave, I made out her
papers. I doubt very much if any ship's papers were
ever made out with nicer attention to formalities. I
warmed up the stamp and printer's ink for some hours
by a low fire, in order to secure a good impression of

the consular seal. Without vanity, I may say that I
succeeded. I doubt if such distinct impressions were
ever before issued from that office. The bill was, I
think, a model in its way; it certainly was so for its
amount; for though I strained it to the full limit of the
Instructions, it fell at least one-third short of the usual
bills upon the record.

Upon the day of sailing (and I furnished my serving-man
with an extra bottle of wine on the occasion), I
presented myself at the office of the Port Captain, with
the usual vouchers respecting the ship and crew under
my charge. To my great vexation, however, that gentleman
politely informed me that he was not yet advised
officially of my appointment—that my seal and signature
in short (so elaborately done) were of no possible
service.

The skipper who attended me, rubbed his hat with
his elbow in a disturbed manner.

What was to be done?

The Captain of the Port suggested that he was himself
empowered to act as Consul for such powers as
were unrepresented; and he instanced, if I remember
rightly, some of the Barbary States.

I withdrew my papers, and my charge for services
which had proved so unavailing. I am afraid I was
petulant to the serving-man. Thus far the Consulate
had not come up to expectations. I began to distrust

the value of the place. I wrote off a sheet full of expostulations
to the Governor; another to the authorities at
home; and a third to our representative at the Court.
This last promised very strenuous exertion in my
behalf; and he was as good as his word; for a week
after I was gratified with a sight of my name, regularly
gazetted under the “Official heading” of the daily journals
of the place. The same evening the Governor of
the Port addressed to me an official note, upon an immense
sheet of foolscap, giving the information already
conveyed to me in the Gazette.

Nor was this the end of my triumph; for the next
day, or shortly afterward, a band of street performers
on various instruments (chiefly, however, their lungs),
came under my windows in a body, and played several
gratulatory airs to my success in procuring recognition.
They even followed up the music by shouting in a most
exhilarating manner. It showed kind-feeling; and I
was just observing to myself the hospitable interest of
these people, when my serving-man entered in great
glee, and informed me that it was usual on these occasions
to pay a small fee to the performers.

I can hardly say I was surprised at this; I asked—
how much? He said he would count them, and thought
about three shillings apiece (our money[3] ) would be

sufficient. As there were but fifteen, I did not think it
high. I wondered if it had been the habit to charge
this matter in the stationery account?

The day after (for now I seemed to be growing rapidly
in importance), I received a very bulky package
from the chief of police, inclosing the passport, unpaid
bills, subscription papers, recommendations, and police
descriptions of one David Humfries, who, I was informed,
was in the port prison, for various misdemeanors—
chiefly for vagabondage; and who, being an American
citizen, was at my disposal. The chief of police expressed
a wish that I would take charge of the same,
and put him out of the country.

I examined the papers. They were curious. He
appeared to have figured in a variety of characters. An
Italian subscription list represented him as the father
of a needy family. A German one of about the same
date, expressed a desire that charitable people would assist
a stranger in returning to his home and friends at
the Cape of Good Hope. Among the bills was a rather
long one for beer and brandy.

I thought it would be patriotic to call upon my
countryman. I therefore left a note “absent on business,”
in the office window, and called at the prison. I
was ushered, under the charge of an official, into a dingy,
grated room upon the second floor, and was presented
to a stout negro-man, who met me with great self-possession,—apologized

for his dress (which indeed was
somewhat scanty), and assured me that he was not the
man he seemed.

I found him indeed possessed of somewhat rare accomplishments,
speaking German and French with very
much the same facility as English. He informed me
that he was a native of the Cape of Good Hope, though
a naturalized citizen of the country I represented. His
passport was certainly perfectly in order, and signed by
a late Chargé, Mr. Foote of Vienna. He assured me
farther, that he was of excellent family; and that his
father was a respectable man, well known in New
York, and the head of a large school in that city. I
told him of the application of the police, and of their
wish to be rid of him.

He did not appear to manifest resentment; but said
he would consent to any reasonable arrangement. He
had no objection to go to New York, provided his
wardrobe were put in a proper condition. He should
be sorry, he said, to meet the old gentleman (meaning
the schoolmaster) in his present guise.

I told him I was sorry that the law did not warrant
me in finding him a wardrobe, and that only by a fiction
could I class him among seamen, and provide him
with a passage home. Upon this, he avowed himself
(in calm weather) a capital sailor, and said he had once
served as cook.

I accordingly wrote to the authorities, engaging to
ship him by the first American vessel which should
touch the port. By rare accident this happened a fortnight
after; and having given a receipt for the black
man, besides supplying him with a few flannel shirts at
my own cost, I succeeded in placing him on board a
home-bound ship, by giving the captain an order on the
Treasury for ten dollars; the captain intimating, meantime,
that “he would get thirty dollars' worth of work
out of him, or take off his black skin.”

I did not envy the black man his voyage: I have
not had the pleasure of hearing from Mr. Humfries
since that date.

I have spoken of the arrival of a second American
ship; such was the fact. I need not say that the papers
were made out in the same style as the previous ones; I
had now gained considerable facility in the use of the
seal. Upon the payment of the fees I ventured to attach
the seal to my receipt for the same. It was not
necessary—it was not usual even; still I did it. If the
occasion were to be renewed, I think I should do it
again.

Not long after this accession of business, which gave
me considerable hopes of—in time—replacing the flag,
I received a visit from an Italian gentleman just arrived
from New York, where he had been an attaché to an
opera troupe. He informed me with some trepidation

that the authorities were not satisfied with his papers,
and had given him notice to return by sea.

I asked him if he was an American: whereupon he
showed me a court certificate of his intentions to become
a citizen, dated a couple of days before his leave, and
with it an imposing-looking paper, illustrated by a stupendous
eagle. This last, however, I found upon examination,
was only the instrument of an ambitious
Notary Public, who testified, thereby, to the genuine
character of the court certificate, and at the same time
invited all foreign powers to treat the man becomingly.
The paper, indeed, had very much the air of a passport,
and, by the Italian's account, had cost a good deal more.

I told him I should be happy to do what I could for
him, and would cheerfully add my testimony to the bona
fide character of the court certificate.

The man, however, wished a passport.

I told him that the only form of passport of which
I knew (and I showed the six blanks), involved a
solemn declaration on my part, that the party named
was an American citizen. The Italian gentleman alluded
to M. Koszta and the New-York Herald.

I expressed an interest in both; but told him that I
had as yet no knowledge of the correspondence in the
Koszta affair; that there had been no change in the
consular instructions (and I showed him the little pamphlet).

I promised, however, to communicate with the
Chargé, who might be in possession of later advices;
and, in addition, offered to intercede with the authorities
to grant permission to an unoffending gentleman to
visit his friends in the country.

Upon this I undertook a considerable series of notes
and letters,—by far the most elaborate and numerous
which had yet issued from my consular bureau. I will
not presume to say how many there were, or how many
visits I paid to the lodging-quarters of the suspected
gentleman. I found it requisite,—to secure him any
freedom of action,—to become sponsor for his good conduct.
I need not say (after this) that I felt great solicitude
about him.

The notice of “absent on business” became almost
a fixture in the office window. I had written previously
to the Department for instructions in the event of
such application; I had never received them; indeed I
never did. The Chargé flatteringly confirmed my action,
and “relied on my discretion.” I was sorry to
find he relied so much upon it.

It seemed to me that an office involving so large
discretion should, at the least, have better furniture.
The stool, though now repaired, was a small stool. I
sat upon it nervously. The “Statutes at Large” I
looked on with pride and satisfaction. I had inaugurated
them, so to speak, in the office. I placed my little

Vattel by the side of them; I hope it is there now—
though there was no eagle on the back.

To return to the Italian gentleman, I at length succeeded
in giving him a safe clearance. I think he was
grateful: he certainly wore a grateful air when he left
my office for the last time, and I felt rewarded for my
labor. It was the only reward, indeed, I received: if he
had offered a fee, I think I should have declined. Was
I not there, indeed, for the service of my countrymen,
and of my intended countrymen? Of course I was.

The day after the Italian gentleman left I paid my
office rent for the current month, besides a small bill the
serving-man brought me for the caulking of the office
boat. It appeared that it had grounded with the tide,
and without our knowledge (there being no American
ships in port), had remained exposed for several days
to the sun.

Keeping the office in business trim, and sitting upon
the office stool, I received, one day, a very large packet,
under the seal of the Department. I had not heard
from Washington in a long time, and it was a pleasant
surprise to me. Possibly it might be some new and
valuable commission; possibly, it might bring the details
of the proposed change in the Consular system.
Who knew?

In such an event I wondered what the probable salary
would be at my post; something handsome, no

doubt. I glanced at the “arms” of my country with
pride, and (there being no American ship in port),
broke open the packet.

It contained two circulars, embracing a series of
questions, ninety in number, in regard to ship-building,
ship-timber, rigging, hemp, steamships, fuel, provisioning
of vessels, light-house dues, expenses of harbor,
depth of ditto, good anchorages, currents, winds, cutting
of channels, buoys, rates of wages, apprentices, stowage
facilities, prices current, duties, protests, officers of port,
manufactures, trade facilities, leakages, wear and tear,
languages, pilots, book publication, etc., etc., on all of
which points the circulars requested full information, as
soon as practicable, in a tabular form, with a list of
such works as were published on kindred subjects, together
with all Government orders in regard to any, or
all of the suggested subjects, which were in pamphlet
form; and if in a foreign language, the same to be accurately
translated into American.

The accompanying letter stated that it was proposed
to allow no remuneration for the same; but added,
“faithful acquittal of the proposed task will be favorably
viewed.”

I reflected—(I sometimes do reflect).

A respectable reply even to the questions suggested,
would, supposing every facility was thrown in my way
by port officers and others, involve the labor of at least

six weeks, and the writing over of at least ninety large
pages of foolscap paper (upon which it was requested
that the report should be made).

I reflected, farther—that the port officer, as yet affecting
a large share of his old ignorance, would, upon
presentation of even the first inquiries as to the depth of
the harbor, send me to the guard-house as a suspicious
person; or, recognizing my capacity, would report the
question as a diplomatic one to the Governor; who
would report it back to the Central Cabinet; who would
report it back to the maritime commander in an adjoining
city; who would communicate on the subject with
the police of the port; who would communicate back
with the marine intendant; who would report accordingly
to the Central Government; who would in due
time acquaint the Chargé at the capital with their conclusions.

I reflected—that I had already expended, on behalf
of the Government, more of time and of money than
I should probably (there being no American ship in
port) ever receive again at their hands.

I reflected—that life was, so to speak, limited; and
that in case I should determine to give it up to gratuitous
work for my country, or, indeed, for any party
whatever,—I should prefer that the object of my charity
should be a needy object.

I reflected—that I had given bonds in the sum of

two thousand dollars (with sound bondsmen) for the
stool, the blank passports, the pewter and brass seals,
the small-sized flag, and the “arms;” and I examined
them with attention.

I reflected—that while these things were in a capital
state of preservation, and my health still unimpaired, I
had better withdraw from office.

I therefore sent in my resignation.

I do not think there has been any omission in the
performance of my consular duties; it involved, indeed,
a more expensive charity on my part than I am in the
habit of extending to the indigent. I trust that the
Government is grateful.

In overlooking my books I find charges against the
Government for nineteen dollars and sixty-three cents
for postages and stationery. To make the sum an even
one I have drawn on the Government (after the form
prescribed in the consular instructions) for twenty dollars,
making an over-draft of thirty-seven cents, for
which I hope the Government will take into consideration
my office and boat rent, my time and repairs to
the consular stool.

Finding the draft difficult of negotiation upon the
great European exchanges, I may add that I have carried
it for a long time in my pocket. Should it be eventually
paid, I shall find myself in possession,—by adding
the thirty-seven cents to sums received in fees during

the period of my consulate,—of the amount of some
thirty dollars, more or less.

I have not yet determined how to invest this. I am
hoping that Mr. Powers, who I hear wears the title of
Consul, will find some pretty Florentine model-woman
to make an “America” of. If he does so, and will sell
a small plaster cast at a reasonable price, I will buy it
with my consular income, and install the figure (if not
too nude) in my study, as a consular monument.

I shall be happy to welcome my successor; I will
give him all the aid in my power; I will present him to
the ten-penny reading-room, and shall be happy to inscribe
his name in advance at either of the hotels. I
will inform him of the usual anchorage ground of
American ships, so far as my observation has gone. I
shall be pleased to point out to him, through the indulgence
of my serving-man, the best grocer's shop in the
port, and another where are sold wines and varnish.

Should the office-stool require repair, I think I could
recommend with confidence a small journeyman joiner
in a neighboring court.

He will have my best hopes for lucrative employment
in his new position, and for happiness generally.

For myself, consular recollections are not, I regret
to say, pleasant. I do not write “Ex-United States
Consul” after my name. I doubt if I ever shall.

All my disturbed dreams at present take a consular

form. I waked out of a horrid night-mare only a few
nights since, in which I fancied that I was bobbing about
fearfully in a boat—crashing against piles and door-posts—waiting
vainly for an American captain.

I have no objection to serve my country; I have
sometimes thought of enlisting in the dragoons. I am
told they have comfortable rations, and two suits of
clothes in a year. But I pray Heaven that I may never
again be deluded into the acceptance of a small consulate
on the Mediterranean.

POSTSCRIPT.

THE foregoing story of a Consulate was written in
the year 1854, and by a singular mishap, which
gave the seal to my marine misfortunes, the first draft
of it went down in the ill-fated steamer Arctic. In the
following year, however, it was re-written, and given
to the public in the columns of Harper's Magazine.

Since that date, I am happy to say that our Foreign
Consulates have been placed upon a more dignified
footing. Every man who represents the government
abroad is insured at least so much of stipend, as to enable
him to caulk his own boat, and to wear his own coat.
It is to be hoped that under the new dispensation, the
consular business, at the port alluded to, is progressing
swimmingly. Indeed, the natural features of the

port—which, without impropriety, I may name as
Venice—strongly encourage this belief.

With unimportant exceptions, I have never held
official position since that day. I have indeed served
as one of five vestry-men in a small church of ten male
members; but it being thought desirable to rotate, so
as to give a kind of official dignity to all the congregation,
I count at the present writing,—simply as pew-holder.
I was also (if the reader will excuse the egotism)
at one time a director in a thriving Horticultural
Society: but after a series of errors in the adjustment
of the qualities of different fruits, and a shocking display
of ignorance in respect to the merits of certain new
seeds sent out by the Patent Office, I was—to use the
amiable expression—retired from the direction. The
place is now held, I believe, by a gentleman who courageously
plants and eats the Dioscorea Batata. Such
a man deserves reward; and if it did not come in the
way of official honor, I hardly know in what way it
could come.