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Authors: Thomas Keneally
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two portraits for a private dinner given at a tavern, and she was foolish enough to comply. On top of that, Dan noticed that, according to the program, the toast to the Queen was to precede the toast to the President, and that the toast to George Washington had been allotted to a Briton, Sir Arthur Tennant. “The Star-Spangled Banner” and “Hail Columbia” had been printed in the menu, but with all reference to the “British foe” excluded.
When Peabody arose at the appointed time and uttered an exuberant toast to Queen Victoria, praising her generosity for lending her portraits from the palace, everyone stood, even crusty old Buchanan. Sickles, in his splendid uniform, remained seated. That act would be described by Mr. Bennett in the
Herald
as “a sly display of democratic jealousy of royalty.” Perhaps, said Bennett, Dan daydreamed that the Queen would demand that he return home, where he would become the object of “patriotic ovation, leading him straight to the door of the next Presidency.” But other papers applauded him for refusing “to play the fawning minion to Royalty.” In London itself, unlike the presentation of Fanny White at court, Dan’s failure to stand for the royal toast created a great deal of talk and denunciations from Peabody, and put Buchanan to the difficulty of explaining the behavior of his legation secretary. Buchanan argued that Dan had sought not to insult the Queen, but to distance himself from Peabody. 14
By September 2, Teresa could tell that Dan was working himself up toward a duel, but Peabody appealed to Buchanan, and the matter, fortunately for Peabody, ended.
It is hard to envisage that Teresa did not try to moderate Dan’s tendency to pick fights that summer, but he remained edgy and combative. While he worked to make Cuba American, smaller men were concernedonly in gossiping about his sins. One of the conflicts he had that season involved Teresa indirectly, since it had to do with Fanny White. Dan had been outraged by a speech given in New York by an old friend, John Van Buren, the former President’s son, now a leader of the Soft-shell Democrats—those who opposed the extension of slavery to new territories and states. At the Young Men’s Democratic Club, Van Buren made some remarks about James Gordon Bennett’s attempt, in revenge for not getting the ambassadorship to France, to destroy the union between Hardshell and Softshell Democrats. Then, in whatever context, he mentioned Dan Sickles, and immediately, from the floor, came the question “Where is Fanny White?” This was followed by general laughter, and John Van Buren himself was laughing as he replied, “I did not inquire.” At this there was more laughter, but Van Buren moved on to say that in 1849 those who tried to make a coalition between Hardshell and Softshell had lost not only Sickles “but some respectable black men, who quitted us on the ground that we united with Sickles.” At this there were roars of laughter. Sickles had never consented to any such reconciliation, but Van Buren had quoted “a respectable colored man, a restaurateur, George T. Downey, as saying, ‘No party ever degraded themselves as they did by uniting with Sickles. . .. He was lower than the beasts; and nothing, surely, was lower than that.’” There were reported to be gales of hilarity at this. Dan, eventually reading the press reports in London, was not as amused. He saw his accusers as causing unnecessary pain to Teresa and debasing his family honor.
A few weeks after the July Fourth Peabody incident, John Van Buren, called by his friends “the Prince” because of the courtly epicurean habits he had acquired from Martin Van Buren, came to London on the way to visit his father in Italy. A remorseless Dan tracked him to the Queen’s Hotel in the West End and sent around a Californian friend as a second to present a letter demanding an explanation and apology, or else recourse to the instruments of honor, that
When Peabody arose at the appointed time and uttered an exuberant toast to Queen Victoria, praising her generosity for lending her portraits from the palace, everyone stood, even crusty old Buchanan. Sickles, in his splendid uniform, remained seated. That act would be described by Mr. Bennett in the
Herald
as “a sly display of democratic jealousy of royalty.” Perhaps, said Bennett, Dan daydreamed that the Queen would demand that he return home, where he would become the object of “patriotic ovation, leading him straight to the door of the next Presidency.” But other papers applauded him for refusing “to play the fawning minion to Royalty.” In London itself, unlike the presentation of Fanny White at court, Dan’s failure to stand for the royal toast created a great deal of talk and denunciations from Peabody, and put Buchanan to the difficulty of explaining the behavior of his legation secretary. Buchanan argued that Dan had sought not to insult the Queen, but to distance himself from Peabody. 14
By September 2, Teresa could tell that Dan was working himself up toward a duel, but Peabody appealed to Buchanan, and the matter, fortunately for Peabody, ended.
It is hard to envisage that Teresa did not try to moderate Dan’s tendency to pick fights that summer, but he remained edgy and combative. While he worked to make Cuba American, smaller men were concernedonly in gossiping about his sins. One of the conflicts he had that season involved Teresa indirectly, since it had to do with Fanny White. Dan had been outraged by a speech given in New York by an old friend, John Van Buren, the former President’s son, now a leader of the Soft-shell Democrats—those who opposed the extension of slavery to new territories and states. At the Young Men’s Democratic Club, Van Buren made some remarks about James Gordon Bennett’s attempt, in revenge for not getting the ambassadorship to France, to destroy the union between Hardshell and Softshell Democrats. Then, in whatever context, he mentioned Dan Sickles, and immediately, from the floor, came the question “Where is Fanny White?” This was followed by general laughter, and John Van Buren himself was laughing as he replied, “I did not inquire.” At this there was more laughter, but Van Buren moved on to say that in 1849 those who tried to make a coalition between Hardshell and Softshell had lost not only Sickles “but some respectable black men, who quitted us on the ground that we united with Sickles.” At this there were roars of laughter. Sickles had never consented to any such reconciliation, but Van Buren had quoted “a respectable colored man, a restaurateur, George T. Downey, as saying, ‘No party ever degraded themselves as they did by uniting with Sickles. . .. He was lower than the beasts; and nothing, surely, was lower than that.’” There were reported to be gales of hilarity at this. Dan, eventually reading the press reports in London, was not as amused. He saw his accusers as causing unnecessary pain to Teresa and debasing his family honor.
A few weeks after the July Fourth Peabody incident, John Van Buren, called by his friends “the Prince” because of the courtly epicurean habits he had acquired from Martin Van Buren, came to London on the way to visit his father in Italy. A remorseless Dan tracked him to the Queen’s Hotel in the West End and sent around a Californian friend as a second to present a letter demanding an explanation and apology, or else recourse to the instruments of honor, that
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