286 LIFE OF BENJAMIN SILLIMAN. 



the dressing-room connected with his bedchamber, and 

 there v,*c found him in gown and slippers, the silk cap 

 still on his head. He received us with graceful kindness ; 

 but previous engagements had filled the allotted time. 

 Again, when President Quincy kindly piloted our Connect- 

 icut party to their seats in the vast amphitheatre of human 

 beings who were waiting the words of the great orator on 

 Bunker Hill, I was jostled by the crowd, and found myself 

 among the seventy or more veteran survivors of the battle 

 of June 17, 1775. As no one questioned my right to be 

 there, I was not displeased to find myself in such company. 

 As I listened to Mr. Webster's glowing oration, I searched 

 with my eyes for Lafayette, supposing that he would be of 

 course among the magnates on the stage with the orator ; 

 but I searched in vain. At last, when Mr. Webster alluded 

 personally to Lafayette, up he rose from among his humble 

 fellow-soldiers of the battle, where, with his usual happy 

 tact, he had placed himself, rather than among privileged 

 orders on the stage. 



Mrs. Lloyd had yielded her splendid drawing-rooms for 

 the military reception of General Lafayette's old comrades 

 in war. I was present, and was surprised at the readiness 

 with which he recognized the men of the Revolution. One 

 of them assisted in bearing him off from the battle-field of 

 Brandywine, when wounded in the leg. I believe I must 

 give you the credit of summoning up in my mind vivid 

 recollections of that memorable June 17, 1825, to which 

 you have so beautifully alluded. Those interviews recur to 

 my memory like pleasant visions. 



That splendid reception in the united houses of Mr. 

 Webster and Colonel Thorndike (a door, cut for the occa- 

 sion in the partition-wall, made them one), was the most 

 imposing scene of the kind which I ever witnessed. How 

 grand and how joyous it was ! Lafayette, the observed of 

 all observers, was the monarch of the night, and no mon- 

 arch ever held a grander levee: it was morally grand, 

 with moderate physical excitement. 



