The Sun.
London, England, 1845-11-28 00:00:00

THE SUN, LONDON, FRIDAY MORNA NOVEMBER 28, 1845.

OCCASIONAL SKETCHES-HERE

AND THERE.
A PENCILLING OF PRESIDENT POLK.

At a time when American men and matters attract so

much attention as they do at the present period, a few
sketchy notices of each may not be altogether unin-
teresting. During a recent protracted tour through the
United States the writer has had frequent opportunities
of acquiring information and of observing character ;
and from his sketch-book he now proposes copying a few
outlines. The reader who may look for finished pic-
tures will assuredly be disappointed, but, at the same
time, the seeker after facts will have no reason to
complain.
During the last presidential election, when Henry
Clay, of Lexington, Kentucky, or as his friends delighted
to call him, " Harry of the West," and James K. Polk,
of Nashville, Tennessee, were the rival candidates, the
sneering question put by the opponents of the Demo-
cratic candidate was, " Who is James K. Polk?" This
query was a rather difficult one to answer, for, compared
with the great Whig candidate, Mr. Polk was an un-
known man. He had never done anything which could
by possibility have rendered him sufficiently distin-
guished to entitle him to aspire to the Presidency,
whereas Clay enjoyed not only an American, but an
European reputation for brilliant and substantial acquire-
ments. It was almost as if a candidate had arisen out of
the earth at a moment's notice, for, in the early stages
of the election, Mr. Polk was considered even by his own
party to be a nobody, and merely put forward to ha-
rass and annoy the Whigs. But as the time of
election drew nearer and nearer monstrous letters
on monstrous flags proclaimed the fact that there
was such a person as James K. Polk. Newspapers
of all sizes, and with amazing names, started suddenly
into existence, over the leaders of every one of which a
valiant cock was represented in the act of crowing,
whilst above the rooster's head floated triumphantly the
" star-spangled banner." Occasionally the columns of
these election journals would be adorned with likenesses
of a stern looking gentleman, one of whose hands rested
affectionately on the head of an eagle, and beneath whose
effigy was written in double caps, " Young Hickory ;"
to explain which appellative, I should remark, that
General Jackson, Mr. Polk's patron, had for many years
been styled " Old Hickory," from his tough, stubborn,
unbending nature, which bore some supposed resem-
blance to a branch of the hickory tree. Indeed, hickory
wood became quite the rage. In the shops, or rather
stores, nothing but hickory walking-canes were for sale.
Before almost every other house was a hickory pole, on
the lofty summit of which hung a " cap of liberty," and
from whence floated the stars and stripes, or a banner
on which was depicted a cock, crowing valiantly over
a deceased animal called a" coon."

American politicians are desperately fond of elec-
tioneering emblems. When General Harrison was
elected, loghouses, in which hard cyder was freely dis-
pensed, were erected in every street, because once upon a
time General Harrison had lodged in a loghouse and
drank hard cyder ! The Clay emblem was a coon ; but
I could never satisfactorily ascertain why the Whigs
adopted it : suffice it to say, that this 'cute-looking
animal was to be seen almost everywhere : sometimes
he was represented seated on a rail " taking a sight" at
the cock : in many localities he was to be seen perched
on an ash pole in a very victorious attitude ; but, as if
in mockery of him, the loco-foco party would frequently
hang a dead coon opposite him, and little boy republi-
cans would sing with amazing glee a song, the burden of
which was—

" Oh, poor Cooney Clay,
Oh, poor Cooney Clay,
You never will be President,
I heard the people say."
With all these flags and emblems it may well be sup-
posed that the city of Philadelphia seemed to be quite
startled from its demure propriety. There was scarcely
a house to be seen without its flag or emblem, so that
the political opinions of its inhabitants could be pretty
well " guessed" at a glance. Where, however, no party
feeling was indicated, an American flag was sure to
glitter in the sunshine ; for every building, from the
State-house downward to the poorest frame hut was
decorated in this way. The stars and stripes floated in
the air wherever a pole could be erected or a rope
stretched ; and these flags were of all sizes too, some
big enough to carpet Exeter-hall, and others of conve-
nient pocket handkerchief dimensions—in fact, thou-
sands of little boys dishonoured the national flag by
blowing their noses in it. Standing at the end of Ches-
nut-street, and looking downwards towards the river,
one gazed through a bannered vista—from either side
white stars gleamed from blue fields, and so many
hundred stripes fluttered and dazzled, that to look at
them was almost like putting one's eyes upon a red-hot

gridiron.
But the National Eagle seemed to take, also, a very
conspicuous part in these electioneering proceedings :
for that King—l beg his pardon—President of Birds was
to be witnessed everywhere, and in every imaginable
position. Sometimes he was drawn so mild, that had it
not been for the striped shield which served, him as a
breast-plate, he might have been mistaken for a sitting
tailor-bird. In another place he was represented as a
screaming, ferocious monster, with widely expanded
wings, grasping half-a-dozen olive branches in one claw,
and a bunch of newly-forged thunderbolts in the other ;
and having something like a long surgeon's bandage,
with directions for application written on it, in his beak
—occasionally he appeared to be busily engaged in
waving a banner, or in the act of dropping a wreath from
his talons on the head of General Washington or the
Democratic candidate—in short he was to be seen
in every imaginable position excepting that of
repose. This universal eagle never winked his fierce
eye, or folded his majestic wings, as common every-day
eagles do. No ! he was a wide-awake, go-a-head sort
of bird ; and these were his characteristic qualities and
appearances of whatever colour he might be, or to which
over party he seemed to belong—indeed, some of them
seemed to be savagely disposed to both Whigs and De-
mocrats, for under one savage-looking bird was written—
"The eagle shall swoop from his perch on the rock,
And his grasp shall be death to the coon and the cock."
This was a " native American" eagle ; but it would
be needless to farther particularise, for their propen-
sities seemed to be as various as the tintaof their painted
feathers, and there were many differences in this par-
ticular, for there were visible eagles with plumage vary-
ir, from the " golden" down to any remarkable shade
of colour which the artist, not being, by any means, so
particular as Audubon, might conceive.
If I were writing a book, instead of a mere newspaper
article,l might fill page after page with sketches of Ame-
rican electioneering scenes. But space forbids my pen,
although it is much inclined, to travel through oyster-
cellars, and bar-rooms, and committee head-quarters,
and public meeting places, picking up here and there
little " bits" of character, which might be rendered
vastly amusing. Nor must I catalogue the valiant pro-
ceedings of the " Young Hickory Clubs," nor tell how
" the Democrats were summoned to ' rally,'" nor de-
scribe the ceremonials attending: the raising of a hickory
pole, nor even hint at the torch-light out-of-door mass
meetings, nor the noisy in-door assemblies. I must pass
over all these matters for the purpose of introducing the
reader to the individual, who by his blustering about
Oregon, has gained a notoriety which he never would
have known but for a chance combination of circum-
stances. Some men are born great, many achieve great-
ness, and others have greatness thrust upon them—to the
latter class belongs James K. Polk, President of the
United States. _

Accompany us, reader, by a flight of fancy to Wash-
ington—the city of magnificent distances, as some one
has called it. It is a sprawling, scattered, uncomfortable
city, with streets unfinished, and, excepting in the time
of the session, houses uninhabited. It is full enough,
however, to-day, for it is the 4th of March, and Mr.
Polk, to the astonishment and even dismay of many of
his friends, has been elected, and is about to be inaugu-
rated. All the world and his wife are thronging to the
capitol to see the new President, and from north, south,
east, and west, flow in living streams of curiosity hunters,
office-seekers, and sight-seers of all descriptions. Surely
never was seen before such a motley sight, nor heard
such a Babel of discordant sounds. Every window and
piazze is crammed with genteelly dressed men and
women. At a single glance, you may see the classically
pretty little lasses of New York, the intelligent-looking
women of Boston, the luxurious daughters of the Caro-
linas, and the belles of the union, the beauties of Balti-
more. Music is sounding, canons are booming, and loud
huzzas every now and then proclaim the appearance of
some popular personage. Let us escape from the dense
crowd, and watch the procession as it passes by.•
There is a faint and rather a melancholy cheer given
as a carriage approaches, in which is seated three or four
gentlemen, one of whom has such strongly marked
features that from the pictures we have seen of the late
President we at once recognise John Tyler, whose un-
expected elevation to the chair of the Chief Magistrate,
owing to the death of General Harrison, earned for him
the title of " His Aceidency." He is a tall thin man,
with a head half bald, badly set on his shoulders, a low
unintellectual forehead, furtively glancing eyes, and a
nose of enormous prominency. In the expression of
John Tyler's face there is something amazingly little
and mean; it is not insignificant, but ridiculously sense-
less. Whilst gazing on such a face one might feel cer-
tain that its owner could not by possibility be guilty of
doing any great action. As he passes on, some laugh
outright, many jeer, and no one regards him with ap-
parent respect. From obscurity he emerged—to ob-
scurity he is returning. Let him pass on, for by the
hubbub that is making behind him, there comes, it
should seem, " metal more attractive."
Sitting bolt upright, in a close carriage, and evidently
making an effort to be dignified, sits a man with a stern
aspect, coldly responding to the cheering of the multi-
tude, who bellow out the name of " Polk " with asto-
nishing perseverance and power of lungs. The new Pre-
sident, for it is he, bows ungracefully to the ladies who
wave their handkerchiefs to him—his face is of an ashy
paleness; in his hand he grasps nervously a roll of paper,
his inauguration speech: on he goes, let us follow him to
the Capitol.
Passing over the preliminary proceedings, and without
noticing the minor incidents of the occasion, let us now
confine our attention to the man of the day—and lo I
whilst the air is rent with acclamations, the gentleman;we
saw in the carriage comes forth in front of the building,
and now we can observe him more narrowly.
He is short in stature, thin and bony in frame, and
somewhat awkward in his carriage. His iron grey,
wiry hair is brushed back from his temples, and on the
summit of his forehead bristles up stiffly. His brow is
high, but narrow, and beneath it are two deeply-set
greyish eyes ; the nose is short and thick, and the
mouth thin lipped and compressed ; he is dressed in plain
black, and looks like a-stern, obstinate man. There is
no dignity, no suavity about him. Ho appears as if it
would be painful for him to look pleasant, and as he
reads his speech his voice sounds harsh and husky, and
his manner is awkward and ungraceful. Such is James
K. Polk, who, in appearance does not belie his character.
He keeps himself wrapped up in a garment of self-suffi-
, ciency, which he loosens not, though advised to do so by
his best friends. Lie relies on no one and distrusts every