Public ledger. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1865-1893, 1879-03-20
TERRIBLE OLD ZACH.
How He Exhibited HIs Courage on a
Certain 0CcasiOn---The Truth
Of History.
washingtOn Lelsr in ohicaso Tine..l

upon the morning OF the I'd OF March
the remarks of Zachariah Chandler
upon the subject of the double-dyed
traitor have been copied far and
wide with the most enthusiastic com
ments by the loyal press. This now
celebrated effort of the vigorous
Chandler has called forth a shrek Of
derision from the Courier journal
which asserts in. a most positive way
that Chandler is no warrior; that ID
spite of his bellicose talk he never
smelt gunpowder, much less had he
ever made a physical demonstration
toward any one. Now, this statement
published in a widely circulated paper.
is one that is calculated to do great
injustice to an eminent man. To
yindicate the truth of history the
writer desires to recall to the mind Of
the public an incident in the life Of
Zachariah Chandler that we but briefly
mentioned at the time in the Geographic
dispatches of the Chicago Times. The
writer was a witness to the fierce
bravery Of the doughty senator, and
from accurate "reminiscences can truly
picture the great man when he, forthe
first time, dropped the mantle of a
statesman and assumed the role of a
warrior, actually pining for the blood
that SO often dripped and oozed from
his sanguinary senatorial sentences.
The occasion was upon a Sunday
morning in May, 1875. The Chicago
Times Office was then upon Fourteenth
street, under the Ebbitt House, in a
line with the other prominent news
paper Offices, in what was her known
as THE Row" Since that time this
line of offices has become broken up,
and The Row proper no longer
exists. The writer, in the neighbor-
hood of II noon, upon the 10Th of
May, 1875, was lazily strolling up
Fourteenth street from the avenue.
1t was one Of the gentle, caressing
days, when mere living Is a luxury.
Such days are common in Washington
in May. The day was Sunday. Con
gresS was away. The rarest sight upon
the streets was a human being. Every
body in town capable of stirring had
gone to the country. So it was but
natural that the writer noticed, with
more than usual attention, q huge
brOad-shouldered man, apparently
labOring under excitement quite out
of keeping with the serene quietness
Of the day, who suddenly appeared on
the corner of Fourteenth and f streets,
just above the Row" The writer
saw that the newcomer wore a bat
tered silk hat jammed down upon the
back of his head. A huge black
oyercOat nearly hid his stout figure,
while under his coat, in the re-
gion of the small of his back was a
protuberance that suggested Richard
III. The overcoat was not buttoned,
It tapped open as he walked.
disclosing a huge strap and
buckle that crossed over the point
or locality indicated by the upper
end of the sternum. In his right hand
the agitated pedestrian held a heavy
cane, ornamented on the top BY a brass
cannon that cleaned and shone in the
sun like polished gold. In a moment
the writer recognized Zachariah Chan
der, who had then but for a few bit
ter days been retired to private life
from the seat in the United States
senate held by him from 1857 up to
the fatal 4th of March, 1875. The
next point of interest in the pedes-
trian, after discovering his agitation
and importance, was to note that Mr..
Chandler was slowly, but with grim
care, reading the signs over the Offices
in Newspaper Row. The writer, who
had no personal acquaintance with Mr..
Chandler, and strong in the belief
that he certainly could not be the OBJ
ject of any belligerent search upon the
part of the former, crossed the street.
and, opening the Times office, seated
himself therein, thinking that Mr..
Chandler might drop in, and prove as
entertaining as great men are apt to
do In their amusing hours of rmelaxa-
ton, when they give their massive
brains a rest from the wearying pur-
suit Of craftsmanship. Scarcely had
the writer fairly seated himself in the
office when Mr.. Chandler came in
with a rush, exclaiming, with vocifer-
GUS good nature that was almost bois
ferrous:
Il am looking for a man by the
name Of Dion Pott."
"Donn Piatt 2"
Yet, that is my man-Dion Pott."
Mr.. Piatt has no Office in this
neighborhood. You will very likely
find him at the office Of The Capital.
or else at his private house"
Where is that last placer ;
Here is the directory. You can
easily find it,
Up to this time Mr.. Chandler was
beaming with a %ferociOus good nature
as if he were a happy bloodhound
upon a blissfully fresh trail. but had
said nothing to indicate any but the
most peaceful intentions.
Suddenly, as he found the address
he sought, he burst out with young
man, do you know murder is my lay
this mOrning?"
notwithstanding the sayagery of
the sentence, it sounded grotesduely
absurd. All Of the excitement shown
by Chandler upon the street returned
At the sonorous word murder. The
blood crept up under the fretted
wrinkled face until the yery ave-
looked blood-shot and infSmed. lie
appeared to think that there was some
doubt about his assertion being made
IN good faith, and as Foley, then cor
respondent Of the Baltimore Gazette.
and the late Mcfarland, Of the Phila,
delphia Press, had just stepped into
the Office, Mr.. Chandler proceeded tol
demonstrate the truth Of his original
/