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 JOHN M. DANIEL'S 
 
 
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 ^ (,*V-yJ« 
 
 A MEMOIR- OF THE LATE 
 
 EDITOR OF THK.inCHMOND EXAMINER. 
 
 BY DR. GEORGE W. BAGBV 
 
 EOITOR OF THB NATIVE VJROINTAM. 
 
 LYNCH BLTRG, VA. 
 J. P. BKLL k CO.. Publishers. 
 
 JOHNSON it SCHAFFTF.R, PRINTERS, 
 Nos. fiO and C'i Mnrkot Street. 
 
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 1^ 
 
JOHN M. DANIEL'S 
 
 ;l 
 
 ■If rii\ -! 
 
 
 
 A MEMOIR OF THE 
 
 LATE EDITOR OF THE RICHMOND EXAMINER. 
 
 ^ 
 
 Bi DR. GEORGE W. BAGBY, 
 
 KDItOE OF THE NATIVE VIEG^'.^k. 
 
 J~~^ *". 
 
 f^fj 
 
 LYNCHBURG. VA 
 J. H. BELL & CO., Booksellers and Publl.hprs 
 
 1868. 
 
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 E-^( 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by 
 
 Dr. d E . W . B A G B Y , 
 
 In the District Conrt of the United States ibr the District of Colninhia. 
 
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 JOIINSOX & SOUAFFTKK, PRINTKRS, 
 
 MAUKKT sTKKIiT, 
 
 T.YXcrtnnu;. viiioixiA. 
 
T^RKF^CTC. 
 
 -*•►- 
 
 In' December of last j'ear, soon after tlio publication of tlie "Latch-Key"' iu 
 the Native Virginia )>, I visited the city of Richmond, and, while there, was con- 
 vinced that I had made, iniwittinglj', two decided errors : First, John M. Daniel 
 did not write "The Parliament of Beasts.'' The real author is known, but his 
 name is withheld, for sufficient reasons. Second, the walk to Petersburg was 
 made, not for the jMirpose of lending, but of paying monej' which the Editor of 
 the Examiner had collected for his friend, the then Artist, Peticolas. This I 
 learned from tho diary whicli DvMEL kept at that time, and which Mr. T. If. 
 Wynne has now in his possession. In respect of other matters of fact, I believe 
 the Memoir is substantially correct. It is reprinted now in pamphlet form, for 
 the benefit of many who were unable to obtain tlie back nuniliers of the JVativf 
 Vtrgini<m which contained it, and iu response to their roj^eated solicitations, 
 
 On\Nr.E C. IT., Ya., Frhnan-t/ 7.s\ lsi;s. (i. W. 15. 
 
John M. Daniel's Latch-Key 
 
 Some days ago, I found in an old drawer, the latch-key, which 
 the editor of the Richmond ^xawme;- gave me in 18G3. It fitted 
 the door of the house on Broad street, opposite the African 
 church — the house in which he died. A bit of brass, differins; 
 in nothing from others of its kind, this key, nevertheless, has 
 its charm. It is the only souvenir I have of one of the most 
 remarkable men Virginia ever produced. Coming upon it unex- 
 pectedly, after I had given it up as lost, the bare sight of it 
 crowded my mind, in an instant, with pictures of its former 
 owner. I saw him in Washinigton, just after his return from 
 Europe, conversing with Seddon and Garnett; in his own room 
 over the Examiner office, as he sat lord-like, in a high arm-chair, 
 in August, 1861, questioning me about the battle of Manassas 
 and exhibiting the major's uniform, which he intended to wear 
 as Aid to Gen. Floyd; in the editorial room, cutting and slash- 
 ing leaders, which had been written for him, or denouncing 
 fiercely the Administration; at his dinner-table, pledging Wig- 
 fall and Hughes in a glass of old Madeira; in the bed, where 
 he lay wounded, after the duel with Elmore; and last of all, I 
 saw his marble face — how changed! as he lay in his metallic 
 coffin, March the 31st, 1865. 
 
 All these likenesses of this strange man came vividly before 
 me as I looked at the key of his door, and with them came a 
 host of recollections, some of which I am now about to set 
 down. Not that I have anything to tell which others could not 
 tell as well, or better than myself. For it must not be inferred 
 because he gave me the privilege of entering his house at any 
 hour of the day or night that pleased me, that I was the inti- 
 mate personal friend of John M. Daniel. No; he took a short- 
 lived fancy to me, and gave me his latch-key; that is all. While 
 
JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY 
 
 the fancy lasted, I used the key but seldom, and after it died out, 
 not at all. Doubtless be soon forgot that be bad ever given it 
 to me. Jily aim is simply to put down in cbronological order, a 
 number of incidents and sayings illustrative of tbe character of 
 one who, in some respects, resembled John Randolph, of Roan- 
 oke and wbo, like Randolph, was of a nature so peculiar tbat 
 the most trivial reminiscences can hardly fail to prove interest- 
 ing to hundreds of thousands in the South, and to not a few in 
 the North. 
 
 ■My acquaintance with him began in Washington, after his 
 return from Turin. He registered his name at Brown's Hotel in 
 a small hand, simply as "Mr. Daniel, Liverpool." Although I 
 had never seen a scrap of bis writing, 1 knew the moment I saw 
 his name on tbe register, that the man for whom so many were 
 anxiously looking, bad arrived. Tbe next evening, I was intro- 
 duced to him. I had long been curious to see "the great editor," 
 and availing myself of bis animated conversation with other 
 visitors, eyed him intently, seeking in tbe outward man some 
 indication of the extraordinary being within. My search was 
 not in vain. The poorest^pbysiognomist could not have seen 
 Daniel's face, even for a moment, without being attracted — I 
 am tempted to say fascinated by it. True, we always find what 
 we are taught to expect in a face, and often discover what does 
 not exist; but here was a countenance singularly marked — a 
 dark, refined, decidedly Je^dsh face. The nose was not very 
 large, and but slightly aquiline; tbe mouth thin-lipped, wide, 
 unpleasing, and overhung by a heavy black moustache; the 
 chin square, but not prominent; the cheeks thin; and both 
 cheeks and chin covered by a dense, coarse, jet-black, closely- 
 trimmed beard; eye-brows very thick and black, shading deep- 
 set, rather small hazel eyes; head as small as Byron's or Broug- 
 ham's, beautifully shaped and surmounted by masses of hair, 
 which in youth, bung long and lank and black to his coat col- 
 lar; but in later life, was worn close cut. Such was John M. 
 Daniel as he sat before me in a room at Brown's Hotel in the 
 memorable winter of 18G1. 
 
 He was richly but plainly dressed. He talked freely upon the 
 topics then uppermost in every Southern mind, but there was a 
 
JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY 
 
 hesitation, or rather a tripping amounting almost to a stammer 
 in his speech — the result, probably, of his long residence abroad, 
 and the constant use in conversation of French or Italian 
 instead of the English language. This tripping had entirely 
 disappeared when I met him a few months later in Richmond. 
 It was not an affectation, as I had at first supposed. 
 
 During a number of interviews which I had with him in 
 Washington, he was always courteous, good natured and talka- 
 tive. His moroseness, his bitterness, of which I had heard so 
 much, seemed to have been dissipated by the genial climate of 
 Italy and the polite atmosphere of courts. One night, however, 
 Floyd's name being mentioned in connection with the affair of 
 the Indian Trust Bonds, some reckless person took it upon him- 
 self to say that in the public opinion the then Secretary of War 
 was "no better than a thief." Daniel flamed instantly. He 
 rose from his chair with a white face and with trembling lips, 
 and denounced the charge against Gov. Floyd as au accursed 
 slander. In proof that Floyd had not appropriated to his own 
 use one cent of the public funds, he stated a fact, not to be men- 
 tioned here, which seemed to carry conviction to all who heard 
 it. He was very much agitated; his passionate nature so over- 
 mastered him that he could not, although he tried to resume his 
 calmness, and the party soon dispersed from his room. 
 
 During his stay in Washington, which lasted two or three weeks, 
 I met him but once after this exciting scene. He was then in 
 Mr. Seddon's room, conversing with that distinguished member 
 of the Peace Congress, and with the Hon. M. R. H. Garnbtt. 
 Late English publications, relating to Continental and British 
 politics, were under discussion, and Daniel showed himself per- 
 fectly familiar witli every book or pamphlet which the other 
 gentleman had read. Little was said so long as I was present 
 about Federal politics. It cannot, however, be doubted that the 
 Virginia editor was in the intimate counsels of the leaders of 
 the southern movement, and that, while he gave them the ben- 
 efit of his eminently clear intellect, he in turn was enabled by 
 their information and opinions to post himself thoroughly on 
 all those points which were shortly to be brought before the 
 public in the columns of the improved and, for the first time, 
 Daily Examiner. 
 
JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY 
 
 The potent influence of this paper from the moment that 
 Daniel resumed the helm, was felt not only in Virginia, but 
 throughout the entire South. To this day, the effect of a single 
 article, which appeared a few weeks after the Examiner began 
 to be issued daily, is remembered by almost every man, woman 
 and child in Virginia. I allude, of course, to "The Parliament 
 of Beasts," in which the members of the Virginia Convention, 
 then in session, were likened to dogs, cats, owls, opossums, and 
 other members of the animal kingdom. The likenesses were so 
 happily and so trenchantly drawn that it was impossible to mis- 
 take them, and many hundreds, if not thousands, of copies of 
 the issue containing the article were sold in a few hours. Some 
 offence was given, but so much humor, and wit so genuine, 
 were mingled with the satire, that the Union men, who were 
 most offended, were obliged to join in the laugh at their own 
 caricatures. "Who is the author?" was in everybody's mouth. 
 This question was never satisfactorily answered. The article 
 appeared as a contribution, but in editorial type, and the great 
 majority of people suspected that Daniel himself was the author. 
 This, however, was denied, and many conjectures were made as 
 to the man, in or out of Virginia, who was capable of doing so 
 clever a thing. Two years or more after its appearance, while 
 sitting alone with Daniel, I asked him to tell me in confidence, 
 who the real author was. He was pacing the floor of his sanc- 
 tum^ as was his wont. He stopped abruptly, put his hands in 
 his pockets, turned his face towards me and said, with the 
 utmost gravity : 
 
 "No one knows better than yourself who wrote that article." 
 
 "Nonsense," I replied; "I really want to know. Tell me. I 
 pledge you my word that I will never reveal the secret until you 
 give me permission to do so." 
 
 He looked keenly at me, as if to ascertain whether I could be 
 trusted, and for a moment I felt sure that be was going to tell 
 me; but turning suddenly on his heel, he began again to pace 
 the floor in silence. He refused to tell me even the author of 
 the periphrase in verse, which appeared some time after the 
 original. I have scarcely a doubt but that he himself wrote the 
 original in prose, and I think I can make a very good guess as 
 
JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY 
 
 to the authorship of the poetic version. The latter I attribute 
 to the same hand which penned "Fie! Memminger," and similar 
 articles in rhyme, which were printed in the Examijier during- 
 the years 1864-'65. 
 
 In May, 1861, I went to Manassas with the first battalion sent 
 thither from Richmond. No sooner was I upon the ground 
 than I felt, as by prescience, rather than by any comprehension 
 of the strategic value of the position, that the place was to be 
 the scene of a great battle; and shortly afterwards with the aid 
 of my friend, Lieut. L , embodied my views and apprehen- 
 sions in an article of considerable length, which I sent to the 
 Examiner — no order to the contrary having then been issued. 
 Daniel thought it imprudent to publish the article, but was so- 
 pleased with it that he continued to send me, as long as I 
 remained at Manassas, five copies of his daily paper. He alsa 
 offered me my own price for any letters I might choose to write 
 him. Even had it been lawful, I could not have accepted his- 
 proposition, for the reason that the fatigues of incessant drill- 
 ing left me little inclination and less ability to write even to my 
 own father. But the prompt recognition of the little service I 
 had rendered him — a promptness which, as I afterwards disco- 
 vered, was characteristic of Daniel — and doubtless a good deal 
 of gratified vanity at the estimate he had placed on my contri- 
 bution, impelled me to call on him as soon as I reached Rich- 
 mond in August after the great battle. 
 
 He was then living in two rooms, handsomely fitted up, in the 
 second story of the Examiner building. The front room he 
 used as a bed chamber, the back room as a sanctum and a hall 
 of audience for his many visitors. In the latter were a number 
 of easy chairs; and one in particular, which he preferred above 
 all the rest. It was a sort of barber's chair, covered with horse 
 hair, and elevated much more than ordinary chairs above the 
 floor. From this seat, as from a throne, he looked down upon 
 and conversed with his visitors; and to me at least, (I know not 
 how it was with others,) his words descended from their eleva- 
 tion with a certain authority, as from a true cathedra. 
 
 The day was warm, and the editorial Pontiff was by no means 
 in his robes of office. He wore neither coat nor vest, only a 
 
10 JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY. 
 
 pair of white duck pantaloons. He looked spotlessly clean, 
 cool, and comfortable. His reception was kind, almost to cor- 
 diality. He talked freely about the war, about the generals, 
 and the plans of campaign, but was very guarded in his com- 
 ments upon the Administration, which, up to this time, he had 
 heartily supported. Indeed, the Examiner was, for many months 
 after the war began, regarded as the organ of the Administra-; 
 tion. Full of his expected campaign Avith Floyd, he told me, 
 with an air of satisfaction, how he intended to be comfortable 
 and to escape the filth and misery of camp life. He was going 
 en grand tenue — with a chest stored with the good things of this 
 life, a tent of his own fashioning, a complete cooking apparatus, 
 his own cook and his own valet. 
 
 I asked him if he had no fear of being killed or wounded. 
 He replied that he did not think he would be killed, and 
 that the chances were thai he would not be wounded. "I 
 hate pain," said he, "I cannot bear it, and yet I should like 
 to be able to show an honorable scar in this cause." His cam- 
 paign in Southwestern Virginia was not of long duration. I 
 am satisfied from what he afterwards told me, that he joined 
 Gen. Floyd, not for a holiday, but with the purpose of winning 
 military glory. He was ambitious in everything he undertook, 
 and on more than one occasion he expressed to me a great regret 
 at having left the army. "By this time," (the winter of 1864,) 
 said he, "I might have been a brigadier — perhaps a major- 
 general." 
 
 "But," said I, "as the editor of the Examiner^ you are exert- 
 ing an influence far greater than any brigadier — greater perhaps 
 than any major-general." 
 
 "True," he answered; but what good is the Examiner, or any 
 other paper, or all the papers in the Confederacy combined, 
 doing? Besides, I like to command men. I love power." 
 
 •After the interview in August, 1861, I saw very little of him 
 for two years. I met him occasionally on the street, but his 
 manner was so repelling that I was deterred from gratifying the 
 desire which I often felr, of going to see him. With his old 
 habits had come back his old ways — he was as cold, self-con- 
 tained and gloomy as he had been before he went to Europe. 
 
JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY. 11 
 
 Affairs were not going in the fashion that suited him. Grave 
 doubts were beginning to arise in his mind. He still had hopes, 
 j and often high hopes, of the snccess of the cause, but the course 
 of the Administration excited continually the bitterness of his 
 nature. Then, again, the whole weight of the Examiner^ which 
 he frequently described to me " as a mill-stone about his neck," 
 was upon him. Convinced that his editorial labors were well 
 nigh useless, in so far as they influenced the conduct of the 
 war, the finances, or anything else pertaining to the policy of 
 Mr. Davis, it Avas but natural that his mental energies should 
 flag and his wonderful powers of composition should be abated. 
 He was anxious to get an assistant, but could find no one to suit 
 him. lie had fallen out with one whose brilliant and humorous 
 pen had served him so well in former years. Edward A. Pol- 
 lard was in ill health, and had started, or was about to start, 
 for Europe, and he had not succeeded in getting the two or three 
 writers, whose contributions, a few months later, added so 
 greatly to the value and the interest of the Examiner. 
 
 It was at this time, in the summer of 18G3, while on a visit 
 to the country, that I amused myself, one evening, by writing a 
 satirical article on the then exciting subject of the removal of 
 the Quartermaster General. This I sent to Daniel. What was 
 my surprise by return mail, to receive from R. F. Walker, the 
 manager of the Examiner, a flattering letter, telling me of Dan- 
 iel's high appreciation of my article, and his desire to secure 
 my services as assistant editor. An engagement on another 
 paper prevented me from accepting the proffered situation; 
 moreover I knew well that Daniel was a " hard master." Never- 
 theless, I was anxious to see in print an article which had 
 received the approval of such a critic as John M. Daniel. I 
 looked each day, but never saw it. I own that I felt chagrined. 
 My only conclusion was that Daniel, at a first reading, had 
 overestimated the merits of the article, and that a subsequent 
 perusal, revealing faults which he had not before detected, had 
 determined him not to publish it. 
 
 On my return to Richmond, I felt little desire to meet any of 
 the Examiner people; but, passing Walker one day on the 
 
12 JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY 
 
 street, he bailed me and told me to come to the office; he had 
 some money for me. 
 
 "Money for what?" I inquired. 
 
 "For that article you sent down. Don't you remember it?" 
 
 "I remember it distinctly, but I also remember that you never 
 printed it." 
 
 Walker was positive that the article had been printed, and I 
 no less positive that it had not. Finally he referred me to Mr. 
 Daniel, and to him, accordingly, I went. He received me 
 kindly, complimented my article extravagantly, as I thought; 
 and asked me if Walker had paid me for it. I was a good deal 
 nettled, supposing that he was making fun of me. Itold him 
 in reply, that Walker had offered to pay me much more than 
 the article was worth, according to the established rates of the 
 Examiner (which I knew) but that I had refused payment, on 
 the ground that the article had never appeared. His eye twin- 
 kled mischievously, as he said: 
 
 "You didn't see it, because you didn't read the Examiner. 
 The Examiner contains the best thoughts of the best minds in 
 the Confederacy, expressed in the best manner — it is the organ 
 of the thinking gentlemen of the country. You ought by all 
 
 means to read it. There is the file; look at the number for , 
 
 and you will find your article." 
 
 I looked, and sure enough, there was an article twice as long 
 and twice as good as the one I had written — my own ideas, but 
 so enveloped in Daniel's fine English, and so amplified that it 
 was hard to recognize them. 
 
 I have purposely related this incident at some length, because 
 it illustrates Daniel's character and unfolds one of the secrets 
 of his great success as an editor. He begrudged no labor in 
 elaborating and improving an article which pleased him. I 
 remember his telling me that he had written a certain article • 
 over four or five times. The original draft was sent to him by 
 a lady distinguished for her attainments and performances in 
 literature. It was a defence of his favorite general. He was 
 gallant to a degree and the warmest of partisans ; and both his 
 gallantry and his friendship being aroused, he exerted himself 
 to the utmost to make the article as printed, a telling one. If I 
 
JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY. 15 
 
 am not mistaken, I have this identical article now in my posses- 
 sion. It is headed, Ohe! jam satis. 
 
 Although I would not accept the place of assistant, and could 
 by no means have filled it to his satisfaction if I had, I was 
 glad enough, in order to eke out my narrow living, to enter into 
 an engagement to furnish him with two or three editorials a 
 week— an engagement which lasted for several months. It was 
 at this time that he gave me his latch-key and I became some- 
 what intimate with him. I made many visits to him at his 
 house on Broad street; and had many talks with him on all 
 sorts of subjects. He was not a secretive man; on the contrary^ 
 he conversed with the utmost freedom about himself, his early 
 life, his residence abroad, his relations and friends, his political 
 associates and opponents, indeed almost everything. Unless he 
 happened to be out of humor, (which was not often the case at 
 his private residence) he loved to talk; and though a recluse, 
 he was delighted with the visits of gentlemen, who came with- 
 out solicitation on his part and who called in a friendly and 
 social way. He urged me to visit him at night, and in order to 
 tempt me to repeat my visits, would give me, each time, what 
 was then a great and costly treat, a bottle of English ale. This 
 he repeated several times, but finding that I did not play chess 
 and was a much better listener than talker, in fact, that I could 
 not talk well enough to provoke him to talk, he soon became 
 tired of ray visits — a fact of which he gave me convincing proof 
 by yawning in my face! 
 
 This house on Broad street and his mode of living, deserve 
 notice. The house was of brick, three stories high, commodious 
 and comfortable. It was one of a number of investments in 
 I real estate, which he made during the war. Although no 
 
 ' human being but himself inhabited this house— the servants 
 being restricted to the kitchen of four rooms in the backyard- 
 he lived, literally, all over it. The front room on the first floor, 
 was his parlor. In it, were two large oil paintings, works of 
 decided merit, a mosaic chess table and a few mahogony chairs. 
 Sometimes he received his visitors in the parlor, but more often 
 in the dining-room adjoining, where he kept a table for writing 
 and his iron safe. A handsome sideboard and a set of solid 
 dining tables of antique pattern graced this apartment. He 
 
 \ A* 
 
14 JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY. 
 
 was fond of telling that these tables once belonged to "old Mem- 
 MiNGER," and were bought when the worth}^ Secretary of the 
 Treasury broke up house-keeping on Church Hill. The front 
 room in the second story was his chamber, and the passage- 
 room adjoining, his dressing closet. A tall mirror, which 
 reached from the floor almost to the ceiling, was fastened to the 
 wall between the two front windows. Hardby, was a large 
 cheval glass, by means of which he was enabled to see his whole 
 figure, front and rear, from head to foot. He was not a fop, 
 but he was fond of dress and had an eye to appearance not only 
 in person but in print. He had a horror of slovenliness. A 
 carelessly written editorial was his abomination. He used to 
 say that a man who goes into print ought to remember that he 
 is making his appearance before the very best society, and that 
 he owes it both to himself and to that society not to appear in 
 undress. When an acquaintance of the writer of this article 
 was married in church, one February afternoon in 1863, John 
 M. Daniel was there in a long-tail coat and Avhite waist-coat. 
 He believed in white waist-coats. He told his manager, Walker, 
 that he ought never to go to a party without wearing a white 
 vest. 
 
 "But, Mr. Daniel," objected Walker, "suppose a man hasn't 
 got a white vest and is too poor, these war times, to buy one?" 
 
 "D — n it ! sir, let him stay at home." 
 
 Besides the mirror, the cheval glass and a few chairs, there 
 was no other furniture in his chamber, except an old fashioned 
 high-post bedstead, which, together with most of his furniture, 
 he had bought at the sales of the effects of refugees once 
 wealthy. He believed in blood, in families of ancient and hon- 
 orable descent, in gentlemen, and preferred the workmanship 
 and antiquated style of things which had descended as heir- 
 looms in the houses of gentlemen to the costliest and most 
 tasteful productions of modern cabinet-makers. There was no 
 carpet on the floor of his chamber, and he slept without a fire. 
 In the morning, a fire was built in the room next to his cham- 
 ber, and there his breakfast was generally served between 11 
 and 12 o'clock. He seldom went to bed before 2 or 3 o'clock in 
 the morning. This back room in the second story had a bed in 
 
JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY. 15 
 
 it and was used as a guest chamber, but I do not remember to 
 have known or heard of but one occupant-R. W. Hughes. 
 He made Daniel's house his home whenever he came to town. 
 Adjoining the dressing-room in the passage of the second 
 floo;- was °the bath room. Leaning against the door of this 
 bath-room I used to see a bag of Java coffee, which made my 
 mouth water every time I looked at it, for coffee, in those 
 days, was twenty to thirty dollars a pound. 
 
 The first room in the third story was used as a sort of lumber 
 room A barrel or two of white sugar, a few boxes of manu- 
 factured tobacco, and some large empty boxes, which had con- 
 tained books, were there the last time I looked in. The little 
 room cut off from the passage, was the library. The number 
 of books was not what one would have expected. A complete 
 set of Voltaire's works; the Delphin edition of the classics, 
 complete; Swift's Works, Clarendon's Rebellion, and a few 
 miscellaneous books are all that I can now recall. Most if not 
 all of these editions were old and rare; and strange to tell, 
 most ot them were bought at private sale or at auction during 
 the war. Daniel was an omniverous reader, but had a sove- 
 reicrn contempt for the so-called "literature of the day." The 
 firs°t Napoleon, riding post in his carriage to the theatre of war, 
 amused himself by dipping into books just published and pitch- 
 ing one after another out of the window. This was much the 
 way with John M. Daniel, before he went abroad, when, in his 
 capacity as editor of the Examiner, all the new publications 
 were sent to him. He never cared to keep them, either gave or 
 threw them away, and if he had occasion to make an extract 
 from one of them, used his scissors remorsely. 
 
 The back room in the third story, was a favorite one with 
 him. Like all the other rooms, it was tastefully and cheerfully 
 papered. It commanded a view of James river, the hills of 
 Henrico and the wide lowlands and woods of Chesterfield. 
 Having a southern exposure, there was always plenty of light in 
 the afternoon, and the room was easily made warm and com- 
 fortable. Here he loved to sit in a leather-bottomed chair, with 
 a little table near him, reading Voltaire, the Latin poets, or 
 contributions and communications to the Examiner. In this 
 
16 JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY. 
 
 room, he kept bis collection of medals and seals: a violin lay in 
 its wooden case on the floor, stringless and unused. A moody 
 man, he sometimes deserted this pleasant room and confined 
 himself for weeks to the rooms on the lower floors. 
 
 He lived well, but not luxuriously. He detested hotels and 
 boarding-houses. When he lived in rooms over his office, he 
 had his meals sent to him by Tom Griffix, or Zetelle. After 
 he went to house-keeping, his negro cook was his caterer. The 
 day I dined at his house with Wigfall and Hcghes, he had but 
 one course, a single joint of meat, a few vegetables, no dessert, 
 coff'ee and wine — Madeira from Gov. Floyd's cellar, which 
 Hughes bad brought with him. That evening, he called for 
 "another bottle," after the rest were satisfied; but 1 never saw 
 him intoxicated, and on one occasion only under the iufluence 
 of wine even in a slight degree. Then his eyes were a little 
 glassy, his manner dogmatic, and he rocked a little as he stood 
 up in front of me and laid down the law in regard to things 
 political. Whiskey he hated with his whole heart. I have 
 heard him curse it and its eff'ects most bitterly, and once wrote, 
 at his special request, an article beginning, "Whiskey, not the 
 Yankee, is to be the master of the Confederacy." The feeble- 
 ness of bis digestion compelled him to be temperate both in 
 eating and drinking. I have heard him say that a single glass 
 of whiskey and water taken at night by prescription of his phy- 
 sician, would give hira headache the next day. 
 
 Coffee was his favorite stimulant, but I do not think he used 
 it to excess. He was so fond of it that he would not rest until 
 he bad taught his pet terriers to drink it. These dogs — "Frank" 
 and "Fanny" were their names, I believe — he loved, but in his 
 own fashion. He delighted in teasing and worrying them; 
 would pinch and pull their ears until they yelped with pain, 
 and was never more pleased than when he succeeded in getting 
 up a mild fight between them. This was not easy to do, because 
 "Fanny" was "Frank's" mother; and, when he was set upon 
 her, went to work with rather a bad grace, while she bore his 
 attacks with exemplary patience. When Daniel got tired of 
 playiwg with his pets, who were devoted to him, he would 
 drive them away with his horsewhip. Yet he never laid on with 
 
JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY. 17 
 
 the full weight of his hand. He was cruel to them, at times, 
 but never brutal. 
 
 I asked him one day if his solitary mode of life did not make 
 him suffer from ennui. "Yes," said he, wearily, but "I am 
 used to it." 
 
 "Don't you find solitary feeding injurious to your health? I 
 tried it once at college, and, within a week, I was made posi- 
 tively sick by it." 
 
 "You are right." he replied. " It literally destroys the appe- 
 tite. In Turin, I employed an Italian count as my chef de cu- 
 sine. He was really an artist in his profession and exerted all 
 his powers to please me. He had carte blanche as to expense, and 
 sent me up every day, the most tempting dishes. I could taste 
 them — that was all. I never enjoyed a meal at home. Whereas, 
 when invited to dine in the country with a pleasant party of 
 ladies and gentlemen — would you believe it? I would some- 
 times be helped three times to meat." 
 
 I asked him, then, as I had often done before, why he did not 
 marry. He was always plaased when the subject was broached, 
 and I am sure we must have had, first and last, a dozen conver- 
 sations on this topic alone. After discussing ihoi pros and cons^ 
 he generally wound up by declaring that, if he ever married, it 
 must be with the explicit understanding that himself and his 
 wife should occupy separate houses. To this end, he often 
 threatened to buy the house next to his own and have a door 
 cut in the partition wall, the key of which he would keep in 
 his own pocket. "The noise of children and the gabble of a 
 woman with her lady friends, was something which he could 
 not and would not stand." 
 
 He was a warm admirer of the female sex, but his opinion of 
 them was not the most exalted. Social life on the Continent 
 did not tend to weaken his natural prejudice against mankind, 
 and probably lessened his esteem for the fairer portion of 
 humanity. Over the mantle-shelf in his chamber, hung an 
 exquisite miniature on ivory. The face was beyond question, 
 the most beauiiful I have ever seen and the execution was wor- 
 thy of the subject. This picture was presented to him by the 
 lady who painted it, and it was her own likeness. According to 
 B 
 
18 JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY 
 
 his account, she was titled, ricli, marvellously accomplished in 
 music, painting, and poetry, eccentric, reckless, alike of herself 
 and of others. Her name he would never tell me He con- 
 fessed to other fancies while in Europe, but did not acknowl- 
 edge, and I believe, did not have, a serious att'air during the 
 whole seven years of his residence abroad. It is said that his 
 heart was never touched but once, and then by a beautiful Vir- 
 ginian. This was before he left America. He told me fre- 
 quently, that it was impossible for him to love a girl who was 
 not pretty, and yet he would shudder at the thought of uniting 
 himself to ''a pretty fool." It was to no purpose that I insisted 
 that true beauty was of the soul alone. He hooted at this doc- 
 trine as "a stale lie." Beauty of face, he might possibly dis- 
 pense with, but beauty of form — beauty of some sort — a grace- 
 ful figure and high-bred manner were absolutely essential. 
 Happening, one evening, to express in his hearing my regret 
 that I was not acquainted with some young lady in Richmond, 
 who played well on the piano, he started almost as if I had 
 stabbed him and gave vent to an exclamation of the most 
 intense disgust — as if the bare idea of a piano-playing young 
 ladv nauseated him. His theory about the management of 
 women was simple and original. '-'There are," he would say, 
 "but two Avays to manage a woman — to club her or to freeze 
 her." 
 
 His menage in 1863-4 consisted of three servants, all males — a 
 cook, an ostler and a valet, who also acted as his dining-room 
 servant. His manner towards the boy who waited in the house 
 was rough even to harshness. He liked his ostler, and spoke 
 kindly to him, whenever I happened to see thera together. I do 
 not wonder that his house-servanls ran away from him. He 
 lost two within as many years. One was caught, punished and 
 immediately sold. The other, for whom he offered a reward of 
 $2,000, made good his escape. After that, he bought a very 
 likely woman, nearly white, who remained with him until his 
 death. 
 
 Such was John M. Daniel at home. What he was at his 
 office, I will now proceed to tell. Whilst I was contributing to 
 his paper, my habit was to hand my article to the manager in 
 
JOHN M. DAXIEL.S LATCH-KEY. 19 
 
 the morning, and at night I would go around to read the proof. 
 Daniel himself always read the proofs, though not with as 
 much pains as I liked. He reached the office generally between 
 8 and 9 o'clock, and I was almost always there before him. In 
 those days, garroters were abundant, and the first thing he did, 
 after entering the room, was to lay a Derringer pistol, which 
 he carried in Lis hand ready for any emergency*, on the large 
 table which sat in the middle of the floor. This done, he would 
 offer me a cigar — he could never be persuaded to smoke a pipe, 
 and his cigars were of the weakest — and then begin the work 
 of examining proofs. First, the proofs ol the news columns, 
 then of Legislative or Congressional proceedings, next the local 
 news, and lastly the editorials. Ail these, he examined with 
 care, altering, erasing, abridging and adding as he thought fit. 
 Even the advertisements were submitted to him, and I have 
 known him to become furious over an adveriiseraent which he 
 thought ought not to have been admitted. 
 
 He was the only newspaper proprietor I ever heard of who 
 would throw out, without hesitation, paying advertisements, 
 sometimes of much importance to advertisers, in order to make 
 room for editorials, or for contributions which particularly 
 pleased him. Oftentimes his news-column was reduced to the 
 last point of compression to make room for editorial matter. 
 The make-up of his paper engaged his serious attention, and I 
 have known him to devote nearly half an hour to the discussion 
 of the question where such and such an article should go, and 
 whether it should be printed in -'bourgeois, ' '• brevier," or '-lead- 
 ed minion.' He loved to have two or three really good edito- 
 rials in each issue of his paper. Short, pointed articles, he had 
 little faith in, believing that the length of a column, or a column 
 and a half, was essential to the effect of an article. The Lon- 
 don Timei was his model, and he promised himself, in case the 
 Confederate cause succeeded, to make the Examiner fully equal 
 to its English model. A pungent paragraph was relished by him 
 as much as by any human being — indeed, he was quick to detect 
 excellence in anything, long or short — but the sub-editorial, or 
 "leaded minion,"' column was left apart for just such para- 
 graphs, and the dignity of the editorial column was but once, 
 
20 JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY. 
 
 within my recollection, trenched upon. Even then, the article 
 was a short editorial rather than a paragraph. It was near the 
 close of the war, when, despairing of the cause, he urged, in a 
 few strong sentences, the duty of Virginia to hold herself in 
 readiness to resume her sovereignty and to act for herself alone 
 in the great emergency, which he felt was approaching. I am 
 inclined to thhik that this was the last article he ever penned. 
 
 Laying so much stress upon editorials, it was but natural 
 that he should pay particular attention to correcting them. 
 This, in fact, was his main business in coming to his office at 
 night. At times he preferred to do his own writing, but in 
 general, and certainly in the last year or two of his life, he 
 much preferred to have his ideas put into words by others. 
 Then he would alter and amend to suit his fastidious taste. 
 Any fault of grammar or construction, any inelegance, he detec- 
 ted immediately. He improved by erasure as much, or more, 
 than by addition; but when a thought in the contributed article 
 was at all suggestive, he seldom failed to add two or three, and 
 sometimes ten, or even twenty, lines to it. This was a labor of 
 love to him, and did not fatigue him as it does most people. On 
 the other hand, he disliked extremely to read manuscript. This 
 sometimes brought trouble upon him. Coming in one night, 
 he found on the table the proof of an article on finance, which 
 I had written. He read it over carefully, and, to my surprise, 
 did not put his pencil through a single line of it. Whilst I was 
 pluming myself on this unusual circumstance, he looked up at 
 me and laughed. 
 
 *' Very well written," said he, ''but diametrically opposed to 
 the views of the Examiner^ 
 
 Too old a hand at the bellows to be disgruntled by this, I 
 replied quietly: 
 
 "Pitch it in the fire." 
 
 "What! and fill two columns myself between this and mid- 
 night? This is every line of editorial on hand." 
 
 "lam really very sorry. But what is to be done? It is 
 impossible for me to write any more. I never can write after 
 dinner; besides I am broken down." 
 
 " Let me see. Let me see." 
 
JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY. 21 
 
 He took up the unlucky editorial, read it over more carefully 
 than before, and then said, in a tone of great satisfaction: 
 
 "I can fix it!" 
 
 And so he did. Sitting down at the table, he went to ^Y0rk, 
 and within twenty minutes, transformed it completely. It 
 appeared the next morning. There were certain awkwardnesses, 
 which we two who were in the secret could detect, but to the 
 bulk of the readers of the paper were doubtless quite imperceptible. 
 
 When he had to write an article himself, his first question, 
 after the usual salutation was, not "What is the news?" but, 
 "What are people talking about?" and he upbraided me con- 
 tinually for not doing what he himself never did, "circulating 
 among the people." He aimed always to make his paper inter- 
 esting by the discussion of subjects which were uppermost in 
 the popular mind; nor did it concern him much what the sub- 
 ject might be. His only concern was that it should be treated 
 in the Examiner with dignity and ability, if it admitted of such 
 treatment; if not, to dispose of it humorously or wittily. 
 But the humor or wit must be done cleverly and with due atten- 
 tion to style. He began to write about ten o'clock, wrote rapi- 
 dly, in a crumpled, ugly hand, and completed his work, revision 
 of proofs and everything, by midnight, or a little thereafter. 
 He then returned to his house, and either sat up or laid awake 
 in bed, reading until two or three o'clock in the morning. 
 
 His assistants in 1863-4,besides reporters, were the local editor, 
 J. Marshall Hanna; the news editor, H. Rives Pollard, and the 
 editor of the "leaded minion," or war column, P. H. Gibson. 
 He had a high opinion of them all. Pollard, he declared was 
 "the best news-editor in the whole South." Hanna he pro- 
 nounced "a genius in his way," and took great credit to him- 
 self for having discovered, developed and fostered him. Gib- 
 son's ability he acknowledged and complimented frequently in 
 my hearing. 
 
 The business of the office gave him very little trouble. He 
 had, of course, an eye to everything; but the printing floor, the 
 press-room, the sale and distribution of papers, mailing, the 
 payment of employes, the settlement of bills— in a word, the 
 finances, out-door transactions, and banking business were all 
 
22 JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY 
 
 attended to by R. F. Walker, the manager. He had but a sin- 
 gle book-keeper — a gentleman of the name of Carey, who was 
 also his cashier. Walker was his faithful assistant in everv- 
 thing, from' the purchasing of type and glue for rollers to cor- 
 respondence with men of business and oftentimes, with politi- 
 cians and contributors. At the end of every week, Vf alker 
 brought to the house on Broad street, the bank book, posted up 
 to date. I was permitted several times to look at this book. 
 The nett receipts per week in 1863-4 were from $1,000 $1,200, 
 or $1,500. After deducting personal expenses of every kind, 
 (and Daniel never stinted himself in anything,) it may be 
 safely assumed that,' in the third year of the war, the paper 
 cleared at least $50,000 — perhaps double that amount. The 
 owner was often on the lookout for investments, and made a 
 number of purchases of real estate. He may have speculated, 
 but, if he did, the speculations must have been on a small scale. 
 During my visits to his house I never saw there any one of the 
 men who were known in Richmond to be largely engaged ia 
 speculation. Moreover, his paper, in common wdth others, con- 
 tained denunciation after denunciation of speculators of all 
 sorts, and was particularly severe upon brokers, gamblers and 
 whiskey sellers. Towards the close of the war, when invest- 
 ments of all sorts were doubtful, I suggested to him that he 
 had better buy gold. His reply was, "I have more gold now 
 than I know what to do with." I am persuaded, however, that 
 this gold was part of the $30,000 in coin, or its equivalent, 
 which he brought over with him from Sardinia. 
 
 I have said that lie never stinted himself, and this is true. 
 His table, indeed, was never loaded with luxuries and delicacies 
 — which might have been bought at almost any period of the 
 war, if one chose to pay the enormous prices asked for them — 
 for the reason that his digestion would not tolerate anything 
 but the simplest food; but his self-indulgence was notably 
 shown in articles of dress, in coal and in gas. He brought 
 with him from Europe clothes enough to have lasted him for 
 years, but he never scrupled to buy a $1,000 suit whenever he 
 fancied he needed it. When coal was very high, and one fire 
 would have sufficed him. he kept two or three burning. Gas 
 
JOHN M. DANIEL^S LATCH-KEY. 23 
 
 was costly in the extreme; two burners of bis chandelier would ■ 
 have afforded him ample light— for be had excellent eyes— but 
 he was not content until he had all six of the burners at their 
 full height. In reply to my remonstrance against this extrava- 
 gance, he would say curtly: 
 ''I like plenty of light." 
 
 If at his house, Daniel was affable and almost genial; in his 
 office he was too frequently on the other extreme. He loved to 
 show his authority, and, as the saying is, "to make things stand 
 around." His scowl at being interrupted while in the act of 
 composing, or when otherwise busily engaged, will never be 
 forgotten by any one who ever encountered it. Holding drunken 
 men in special detestation, he was, as by a fatality, subjected 
 continually to their visits, both at his office and at his house. 
 More than once, I have been sufficiently diverted by intoxicated 
 officers just from the army, who called in to pay in person, their 
 maudlin tribute of admiration to the editor of the Examiner. 
 Sometimes he bore these visitations with a patience that sur- 
 prised me; but he never failed to remunerate himself by awful 
 imprecations upon the intruder as scon as he was out of hear- 
 ing. While his tone to his employes was, as a general rule, 
 cold and often intolerably dictatorial, I have seen him very fre- 
 quently as affable and familiar as heart could wish; indeed, I 
 have known him to go so far as to come out of his sanctum into 
 the small room occupied by his sub-editors with the proof of a 
 contribution in his hand, in order that they might enjoy it with 
 him. Occurrences of this sort, however, were rare. 
 
 Belonging essentially to the genus irritahile^ his anger was 
 easily provoked. He could not bear to be crossed in anything. 
 Whoever said aught in print against "the Examiner newspaper," 
 was sure to bring down upon himself a torrent of abuse. Pos- 
 sessing in an eminent degree, and indeed, priding himself upon 
 his sense of the becoming and the decorous, he was no sooner 
 engaged in a newspaper controversy than he forgot, or at least, 
 threw behind him, the sense even of decency, and heaped upon 
 his adversary epithets which ought never to have defiled the 
 - columns of a respectable journal. This was kept up, some- 
 times, long after the original heat of the controversy had aba- 
 
24 JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY 
 
 ted — his purpose being, as I suppose, to give the opposing 
 paper, and others, a lesson which would never be forgotten, and 
 thus to ensure himself against similar annoyances in the future. 
 To avoid trouble and to maintain the Tinut-Uke character of 
 the Examiner, his rule was never to notice the opinion of other 
 papers, and not even to quote from them. He waited to be 
 attacked; but when attacked, he followed the advice of Polo- 
 Nics to the very letter. But his hottest anger and his bitterest 
 maledictions were reserved for his political enemies. His rage 
 against the administration of Mr. Davis, and particularly cer- 
 tain members of his Cabinet, was, at times, terrible. In like 
 manner, the journalistic partisans of the administration came 
 in for a full share of his fury. I shall never forget his excite- 
 ment, one night, on hearing that a certain article in the Enquirer 
 had been written by a person formerly in his employ. I can see 
 him now, striding up and down the room, exclaiming, "111 
 put a ball through him I' "I'll put a ball through him!' This 
 sentence he repeated fully twenty times, and in a tone which 
 gave assurance of a purpose quite as deadly as his words impor- 
 ted. Yet nothing came of it. He was a hearty and a persistent 
 hater, but he was not implacable. During his stormy life, he 
 had many fallings out, and many makings up. It is not unsafe 
 to assert that he never had a friend with whom, at some time, 
 he did not have a misunderstanding: yet it is certain that he 
 died in perfect peace, and on good terms with all, or nearly all, 
 of his old friends. One of the last and most pleasing acts of 
 his life was the glad acceptance with which he met the advance 
 of his friend, Mr. Thomas H. Wyxxe, from whom he had been 
 estranged during nearly the whole war. 
 
 His enmity to Mr. Davis amounting to something like a frenzy, 
 will be ascribed, by those who differed from him in opinion, to 
 a bad heart, pique at not being made the confidential friend of 
 the President, or at not having been sent abroad in a diplomatic 
 capacity. But by those, on the other hand, who agreed with 
 him in thinking that the Cause suffered more from mal-adminis- 
 tration than from anything or all thicgs else, his course will 
 not be so harshly judged: and their chief regret will be that 
 arguments so forcible as Daniel's were not left to produce their 
 
JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY. 25 
 
 effect unaided, or rather unimpeded by diatribe and invective. 
 To reconcile these conflicting opinions is impossible, and if it 
 were not, is beyond the intent and aim of this sketch. I remem- 
 ber asking him once whether Mr. Davis ever saw his animad- 
 versions upon him. 
 
 "They tell me down stairs," he replied, "that the first person 
 here in the morningr is Jeff. Davis's bodv servant. He comes 
 before day-light, and says that his master can't get out of bed 
 or eat his breakfast until his appetite is stimulated by reading 
 every word in the Examiner.'^ 
 
 "Do you think he profits by its perusal?" 
 
 "Unquestionably. The few sound ideas he ever had came 
 from the Examiner^" 
 
 This he said with perfect sincerity, for he contended, both in 
 the paper and out of it, that every wise and useful measure 
 which had been promulgated by the administration or by Con- 
 gress, was borrowed or stolen from the Examiner. 
 
 He was proud of his paper. If he sometimes regarded it as 
 "a mill-stone about his neck,"' he nevertheless devoted his life 
 to it, and found in it his chief happiness. He looked to it as a 
 source of power and wealth in the future. Of that future, he 
 was more sanguine than anv man I ever knew. How well I 
 remember the night he said to me, without provocation, if I 
 recollect aright: 
 
 "I shall live to eat the goose that eats the grass over your 
 grave.'' 
 
 Perhaps there was something in my appearance which called 
 forth the remark, for I must have been worn by the enormous 
 amount of work I was then doing. 
 
 I looked up from the table, where I sat writing, and said 
 quietly: 
 
 " I don't doubt it; but what makes you say so ?" 
 
 "Two reasons: I come of a long-lived race, and I have an 
 infallable sign of longevitv." 
 
 "What is that!" 
 
 "I never dream — my sleep is always sound and refreshing." 
 
 Little did I then think that before two years were ended, I 
 should see him in his coffin. He was mistaken, however, in 
 B* 
 
26 JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY. 
 
 saying that he came of a long-lived race. His father was not 
 old when he died, and his mother was comparatively young 
 when she came to her death — of consumption, if I mistake not. 
 He was thinking, probably, of his uncle. Judge Daniel, more 
 than of his parents. His own health was never robust ; his 
 constitution was delicate, as a glance at his figure showed. 
 His chest was narrow and rather shallow, though not sunken, 
 and his hips were broad. The organs of digestion and respira- 
 tion Avere alike feeble. He had had an attack of pneumonia 
 before going to Europe, and during his whole life he was a victim 
 of dyspepsia, from which he had suffered greatly in youth and 
 early manhood. I often warned him against the injudicious and 
 frequent use of blue mass, his favorite medicine. Great virile 
 strength he had, as was shown by his dense beard and the coarse 
 hair on his feminine hands, but in muscle, sinew and bone he 
 was deficient. He took great care of himself. I was told that 
 when he returned to Richmond his person was protected by a 
 triple suit of underclothing. Next his skin he wore flannel; 
 over that, buckskin, and over that again, silk. This load of 
 clothing he contended was indispensable to health in Turin, 
 where the atmospheric changes were very violent and sudden. 
 In Richmond he dispensed Avith some of this undergear, but 
 probably gave up only the buckskin. Among other items 
 which he gave a Maryland blockade runner, who waited on him 
 one day while I was present, was an order for "one dozen silk 
 shirts of the largest size." The size he particularly insisted on, 
 and the inference was that he intended to wear them over flan- 
 nel. What availed all these precautions when the final sum- 
 mons came? 
 
 Long as this article is, I cannot close it without some allusion 
 to John M. Daniel as an editor and as a man. He was born an 
 editor. Whatever may have been his abilities as a diplomatist 
 and a i)olitician, whatever distinction he might have attained in 
 the forum or in the field, his forte lay decidedly in the depart- 
 ment of letters and more especially in the conduct of a newspa- 
 per. He was not a poet, not a historian, a novelist, an essayist 
 or even, if I may coin the word, a magazinist. He had talent 
 enough to have excelled in any or all of these, but his taste 
 
JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY. 27 
 
 led him in another direction. It was hoped by everybody that 
 he would on his return home write a volume about his resi- 
 dence in Europe. Such a book would have been exceedingly 
 interesting and valuable. But he was not a book-maker. 
 Moreover, it is not improbable that he expected to return to 
 diplomatic life, and did not wish to embarrass himself by reflec- 
 tions upon the manners and customs of the people among whom 
 he expected to reside. He could not have written about the 
 Italians or any other people without dipping his pen in vitrol. 
 The publication of a part of one of his letters to his friend, Dr. 
 Peticolas, had brought him into trouble with the Italians and 
 made him furious with his associate, Hughes, who took charge 
 of the Examiner in his absence. This occurred early in his 
 career as a diplomat, and made him cautious. He preserved his 
 dispatches with utmost care, in large handsomely bound vol- 
 umes; but whether with a view to publication or for his own 
 use in after years, I am unable to say. 
 
 I remember his telling me, one night, that he intended to 
 make a book. 
 
 "I wish you Avould," said I. 
 
 "Mark you, I did not say write a book, but make a book." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 " I mean to make a book with the scissors," he replied. 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 "Why, by taking the files of the Examiner from its founda- 
 tion to the present time, and clipping the best things from them. 
 I am sure that I could in this way make a book, consisting of a 
 number of volumes, which would contain more sense, more wit 
 and more humor than anything which has been published in 
 this country for the last twenty years. Similar publications 
 have been made in England in moderin times, and long since 
 the days of the Spectator and the Rambler, and they have suc- 
 ceeded. I believe that the best things which have appeared in 
 the Examiner, if put into book form, would compare favorably 
 with any English publication of the kind, and that the book 
 would command a ready sale." 
 
 So far as my personal knowledge goes, this is the only book 
 which John M. Daniel ever thought seriously of making. I 
 
28 JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY. 
 
 agreed with him then, and I can but think now, that the pre- 
 sent owners of the Examiner would do well to carry out his 
 views. In the impoverished condition of the South, at this pre- 
 cise time, it is idle to expect a very large sale of any publica- 
 tion whatsoever; but the day will come, I trust, when the 
 bound volume of selections from the Examiner will have a place 
 in every Southern gentleman's library. 
 
 John M. Daniel was emphatically an editor — not a newspa- 
 per contributor, but an editor and a politician. He was enough 
 of the latter to have made a name in the Cabinet. He was no 
 orator, although he had an orator's mouth. I never heard of 
 his making a public speech. He must have had a great natural 
 repugnance to speaking. Could he have overcome this repug- 
 nance, he had command enough of language to have ensured 
 him considerable distinction in forensic display; but his temper 
 was far too hot and quick to admit of success in debate. He 
 knew men, in the light in which a politician views them, thor- 
 oughly well. His natural faculty of weighing measures and of 
 foreseeing their effects, was much above the common. He had 
 in him the elements of a statesman. His historical studies and 
 his knowledge of mankind were not in vain. Before the first 
 blow was struck and when both Mr. Benjamin and Mr. Seward, 
 speaking the sentiments of their respective peoples, were issu- 
 ing their '.'ninety days notes," he prophesied not only the mag- 
 nitude, but the inhuman and unchristian ferocity of the late 
 war. And who, in this sad hour, can forget how, as the strug- 
 gle drew near its close, he strove day after day and week after 
 week, to revive the flagging spirits and to kindle anew the 
 energy and courage of the Southern people by terrible pictures 
 of the fate which has ever attended "oppressed nationalities?" 
 It is true that these articles were written by John Mitchell; 
 but they were inspired by Daniel. Alas ! those prophecies, like 
 all others, have been interpreted fully only in their completion. 
 
 As a politician, eminence was not his. Had he lived, it is as 
 certain as anything human can be, that he would have filled an 
 honored niche in the temple of political fame; but his celebrity 
 was destined to be confined to the domain of journalism. There- 
 in he obtained a distinction which has been surpassed by none 
 
JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY. 29 
 
 and equalled but by few American journalists. His place is by 
 the side of Thomas Richie, Hampden Pleasants and Joseph 
 Gales. As an editor, he was to politicians what the Earl of 
 Warwick was to kings. 
 
 "It is said," he remarked to me, one day, "that my admira- 
 tion for Floyd is due to the fact that Floyd made me. The 
 truth is, I made Floyd." 
 
 He was accustomed to magnify his office of editor, and his 
 exalted opinion of Gen. Floyd was based not upon gratitude 
 but upon his estimate of the man himself. It has been said 
 that the quality which women most admire in men is "strength." 
 The assertion holds equally good of man's admiration for man, 
 and is particularly true in regard to John M. Daniel. He wor- 
 shipped strength and nothing but strength of mind and of body. 
 He despised fools and weaklings of all sorts. Goodness — the 
 moral qualities — he threw entirely out of the account. He did 
 not much believe in the existence of these qualities, and when 
 they did exist, he regarded them as but evidences of weakness. 
 Floyd was his "man of bronze" — therefore he liked him. Of 
 another and more distinguished politician, he would speak in 
 terms of extreme contempt. "He snivels — he weeps," he would 
 say, in tones of indescribable disgust. Often have I heard him 
 expatiate upon Wigpall's magnificent pTiysique and his unmis- 
 takable natural courage. "It is the genuine thing," he would 
 say. "There is no put on there. He has got native pluck — the 
 actual article; it is no strain on him to exhibit it. The grit is in 
 him, and you can't shake him." 
 
 Of Daniel's own courage, I think I can speak safely and cor- 
 rectly; and I may as well do so here, although I had intended 
 to defer mention of it until I came to the discussion of his char- 
 acter as a man. 
 
 He did not have the hard animal bravery of Wigfall; it was 
 not in his constitution. His highly wrought nervous system 
 was not sufficiently panoplied with brawn to ensure it against 
 the agitation arising from a sudden shock or the violence of an 
 unexpected attack with the fist or club. Nor was he of that 
 tough and wiry make, which enables some fragile men to meet 
 the rudest physical assaults without an outward tremor. But 
 C 
 
30 JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY. 
 
 he had courage of another sort and had it in a higli degree. 
 "What is generally called moral courage, but is more properly 
 intellectual courage — that is bravery which is founded not upon 
 combativeness, the consciousness of muscular strength or upon 
 great excitability unrestrained by caution, but upon the clear 
 perception of the nature and extent of danger together with the 
 hardihood of great self-esteem and pride of character — he pos- 
 sessed to an extent which is rarely seen. To make a reputation, 
 he commenced his editorial career by attacking personally 
 nearly every man of note in Virginia, thereby incurring a 
 responsibility in the field and out of it — for it rested with the 
 parties assailed to demand satisfaction according to the code or 
 to take it at the pistol's mouth in the street, as seemed best in 
 their eyes — which few men of the strongest nerve would have 
 dared to assume. 
 
 He lived in a land where duels were common; in a city where 
 the editor of the Whig had been slain but a few j^ears before, 
 and among a people who never entertained the first thought of 
 accepting damages at law as reparation for a personal affront; 
 hence the course of the Examiner during its earlier years was 
 attended with a degree of danger which none but a truly daring 
 or a fool-hardy man would ever have encountered. But Daniel 
 was no fool; and although he lacked caution and allowed the 
 bitterness of his feelings to carry him too far, he was anything 
 but reckless. Appreciating fully his danger, he willingly risked 
 his life and his reputation in order to secure the advantages 
 which lay beyond the point he so coolly braved. To carry his 
 point, he accepted cheerfully the odium of the community, and, 
 indeed, of the whole State in which he lived. Yov the sake of 
 power and a competency, he •became an outcast from society. 
 At one time he was literally hated or feared by everybody. In 
 the whole world there was scarcely a human being who really 
 liked him for himself. All this he brought upon himself, delib- 
 erately and for a purpose. He marked out an arduous course, 
 and he followed that course resolutely to the last day of his 
 life, accepting all the consequences. Surely, neither a weak 
 nor a timid man could have done this. Assaulted suddenly in 
 the streets, by a powerful man, of known courage, who threa- 
 
 PIM 
 
JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY. 31 
 
 tened then and there to cut his ears off, it is not to be wondered 
 that the fragile man showed some agitation ; but his intrepid 
 "you shall have your duel" in the admirable correspondence 
 with Elmore, and his calm bearing on the field in the very pre- 
 sence of death, (for his adversary was no trifler,) proved beyond 
 question that John M. Daniel had that within him which men 
 in every age have recognised as genuine courage. 
 
 To return from this digression: He was an editor in the best 
 and fullest meaning of the word. He could not only write 
 himself, and write well, but he could make others write well. 
 The crudest articles, as I have shown, if they had but the germ 
 of sonaething good in them, could be transformed by him in a 
 few moments, with an ease and an art peculiarly his own, into 
 powerful leaders. A touch or two of his pen gave a new color- 
 ing to a contribution and made it his own. He had the power 
 of infusing his spirit into every part of his paper, and of giving 
 it, thereby, an individuality which made it as attractive as it 
 was unique. He had innumerable editorial contributors, but 
 they all caught, insensibly and quietly, his spirit, his very tone ; 
 and there was about the Examiner^ whenever he was at the head 
 of it, a homogeneity which under other managers it never 
 attained. It was easy to tell when he left the paper, and when 
 he came back to it. His precise articles could not always be 
 told, but there was a nameless something about the paper as a 
 whole, which gave indubitable evidence of his presence. The 
 very arrangement of the printed matter and the allocation of 
 articles betrayed him behind the scenes. He brought with him, 
 as often as he resumed the helm, a magnetic charm which drew 
 to the paper the cleverest things which were written by any- 
 body. Whoever chanced to do a good thing with the pen was 
 anxious for it to appear in the Exaviiner. There it would be 
 read by more people and be better appreciated than in any 
 other paper. The credit would be Daniel's, but what of that? 
 The intellectual bantling would be sure not to die still born. It 
 would make a noise and be talked about; its unknown parent 
 would hear its praises, and be secretly proud. 
 
 Many men have written for the Examiner^ and some have con- 
 ducted it with ability; but it has never been, and it maybe 
 
32 JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY. 
 
 fairly reckoned that it never will be, edited as it was by John M. 
 Daniel. He had not the humor, and he may not have had the 
 wit of some of the contributors; nor did he have the financial 
 knowledge, or the scientific attainments of others who wrote 
 for him; but be made a better editor than any or all of those 
 combined could have made. The truth of this assertion will 
 be understood fully when I call the names of some of his con- 
 tributors. They are as follows: Robert W. Hughes, Patrick 
 Henry Aylett, William Old, Dr. A. E. Peticolas, Edward A. 
 Pollard, L. Q. Washington, Prof. Basil Gildersleevb, John 
 R. Thompson, and John Mitchell. Some of these gentlemen 
 have had the paper entirely in their charge for months at a 
 time, but it is no disparagement to them to say that the paper 
 in their hands was never what it was in the hands of John M. 
 Daniel. He had in him an intensity of bitterness which they 
 did not possess, and would not have displayed if they had pos- 
 sessed. He had a strength of individuality, an art of attracting 
 contributions, and of shaping them into his own similitude, and, 
 what is most to the point, a pains-taking attention to the minu- 
 tiae of the paper, which, combined, made him an editor whose 
 equal, in all respects, has never been seen in this country. 
 
 He had little, and if his own opinion were taken, not a parti- 
 cle of humor. He was too bitter for that. But he had the 
 quickest and keenest appreciation of the humorous. Dickens 
 was a favorite with him. Nay, he had, he must have had humor 
 of his own. Wit he had in a high degree, and of every sort ; 
 but he was particularly happy in nicknaming and in personali- 
 ties of all kinds. Some of those names showed both wit and 
 humor ; as when he called the cadets of the Virginia Military 
 Institute, on the occasion of their first visit to Richmond, 
 *'kildees" — a title, which as it seemed to belittle them, made the 
 cadets very angry, but which was nevertheless so appropriate 
 and so harmless that everybody laughed good naturedly at it. 
 The appellation of "leaden gimlet," which he applied to a cer- 
 tain lawyer in Richmond, is an example of galling satire, with- 
 out the least admixture of the milk of human kindness. The 
 office of Mr. Benjamin, the Secretary of State, contained files 
 of the leading newspapers of the Confederacy ; and hence it was 
 
JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY. 
 
 called by Daniel "the Confederate Reading Room" — a name 
 intended to convey his contempt at once for the office and the 
 official who occupied it. 
 
 He bad a lively fancy, but little or no imagination in the 
 higher sense of the term ; certainly he had not the creative 
 faculty. I do not know that he ever attempted rhyme, much 
 less poetry or dramatic characterization. His mind was logical,, 
 but dry and elaborate argumentation was not to his liking. He 
 caught readily the salient points of a question, and aimed, in 
 writing, to present them forcibly, but not with too much bre- 
 vity. I saw him return to the author a number of editorials, 
 which I thought excellent, and asked him why he did so. 
 "They are well written," said he; "in fact, they are elegantly 
 written, but there is no incision in them." 
 
 His reading was various and extensive, his memory first-rate. 
 He told me that, during his residence abroad, he not only made 
 himself familiar with Italian and French literature, but read in 
 addition every Latin author of celebrity, and many whose 
 names were almost wholly unknown. Greek he neglected, and 
 he paid little attention to German. History, Biography, Mem- 
 oirs, Political Treatises, Novels, Poetry and Essays of the better 
 class, he literally devoured, and retained with wonderful fidelity 
 everything of importance that he had ever read. He cared 
 little, I think, for metaphysics, or for the exact sciences, and 
 discovered less information in regard to anatomy and physio- 
 logy than many men of ordinary capacity and education. He 
 was not, strictly speaking, a learned man. His taste was pure 
 and correct; his love of "English undefiled" very great. Yet, 
 he was not a slavish purist. His peculiar spelling was but a 
 mark of his infinite detestation of Webster, as a New England 
 Yankee. His favorite authors were Voltaire and Swift. The 
 latter was his model. He often urged me to study Swift dili- 
 gently, in preference to Addison, Dryden, Milton, or any other 
 English author, ancient or modern. 
 
 It remains for me to speak of him in his personal character, 
 and this I shall do as briefly as I can. He who has ever looked 
 unflinchingly into his own heart will be slow to bring against 
 another the accusation which so many were fond of bringing 
 
34 JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY. 
 
 against John M. Daniel — that he was " a bad man." That he 
 was essentially and thoroughly "bad," no one who knew him 
 intimately will charge. De moriuis nil nisi bonum. Upon that 
 principle alone I should exonerate him from the charge. But, 
 more than thkt, I saw and heard too much to allow me, for an 
 instant, to yield assent to every sweeping indictment against 
 the character of the dead Virginian. Whilst he was yet 
 extremely poor, he went twenty miles to lend a still poorer 
 friend some money ; and, at the same time, to save himself an 
 expense which he could ill afford, walked the whole distance 
 between Richmond and Petersburg and back again. This does 
 not argue a bad heart. He bore his poverty manfully, denied 
 himself and "owed no man anything." Such is not the wont 
 of bad men. I know it gave him sincere pleasure to compose a 
 quarrel, and, when called upon, he exerted himself energetically 
 to accomplish that end. But bad men prefer to stir up strife, 
 rather than to allay it. I know that he made a trip to Char- 
 lottesville for the purpose of buying a house advertised for sale 
 at auction, which house he intended to rent cheaply to me, in 
 order that I might escape the grinding exactions of city land- 
 lords. And this he did at my request. Is it the habit of bad 
 men to undertake such journeys in the interest of those who 
 have no special claim on them? I know that at a time when 
 nearly every property owner in Richmond seemed almost con- 
 scienceless in their extortions, the houses purchased by John 
 M. Daniel, and fitted up by him at no trifling expense, were 
 rented to his assistant editors on terms most reasonable. Is 
 this the practice of bad men ? That Daniel was not liberal 
 and open hearted I will admit. But he was not a screw. He 
 was just ; upright in his dealings, prompt to the minute in all 
 his payments. His printers, his writers, all in his employ, were 
 better paid than those in any other newspaper office in the city. 
 If this be the habit of bad men, what pity it is that the Avorld 
 is not full of them ! 
 
 That he treated his relatives with unkindness, and that the 
 hardships he endured in the days of his poverty were no suffi- 
 cient excuse for this unkindness, no one, who has heard both 
 sides of the question, will deny. But the man was morbid both 
 
JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KF.Y. 35 
 
 in body and in mind. One of the evidences of insanity laid 
 down in the books is a causeless hatred of the nearest and best 
 relatives and friends. I do not say or believe that John M. 
 Daniel was insane. Nevertheless his bitterness towards people 
 in general, and towards certain kindred in particular, betokened 
 anything but mental soundness. His body perhaps was never 
 entirely free from disease. The tubercular disposition, with a 
 tendency to development in that part of the system, (the diges- 
 tive organs), the disorders of which are known to affect the 
 miud more powerfully than any others, may account for many of 
 those unfortunate peculiarities which contradistinguished him 
 from healthier and happier men. Had he possessed a florid 
 complexion and a robust organism, who believes that his faults 
 would have been the same? Temperament is not an adequate 
 excuse for every failing, but due allowance should ever be made 
 for its influence. 
 
 Added to his bodily infirmities, there was a want of faith in 
 human nature and its Great Author. Yet, he was by no means 
 an atheist, but rather a deist. I questioned him very gravely 
 one day concerning his belief in God. He paused for some 
 time, and then answered very cautiously and vaguel3\ The 
 impression left on my mind was, that he believed in a Great 
 First Cause, but wished for more light. Touching the revela- 
 tion of the New Testament, he gave no opinion. He seemed, 
 however, to think that really nothing was known in regard to 
 the "bourne whence no traveller returns."* When this sub- 
 
 *The following incident, recently communicated to me, may be relied on as 
 sti'ictly true, and serves still further to illustrate Daniel's character. 
 
 Dr. R.vwLiXGS said to Walker some weeks before Daniel's death: "Walker, 
 Daniel must die. You seem to be able to talk to him at all times without offend- 
 ing him ; and, if you think proper, the next time you find him in a calm frame of 
 mind, you may ask him if he would like to converse with a minister of the Gos- 
 pel." Knowing Daniel's dislike to most preachers, Walker thought over the 
 matter several days before he could muster courage to bring up the subject. 
 One morning, when he seemed stronger and iierfectly free from pain, Walker 
 sat some moments, very nervous, and almost afraid to allude to the matter; but 
 at length he said: " Mr. Daniel, j'ou have always thought a great deal of Dr. 
 Hoge; you believe he is a sincere, good man." He replied, very promptly, 
 " Well, Avhat of it ? " Walker answered, " You are very ill, and I thought perhaps 
 you w-ould like to have him call onj^ou and talk with you." He looked up, smi- 
 lingly, and said, " Walker, I am no ivoman ! I don't want any one but yourself to 
 come in this room, except the doctor." He never alluded to his being danger- 
 ously ill save once, when he said to Walkrr, '' send word to your wife that you 
 will sleep in my house to-night. Something may happen before morning, and 
 I want you Avith me." 
 
36 JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY. 
 
 ject was broached, neither of us dreamed that he was so soon to 
 explore that unknown world, which lay dark and unfathomable 
 before aim. But a few evenings before, he had congratulated 
 himself upon the position he had gained in the world. 
 
 "I am still young," said he ; " not very young either, for I will 
 soon be forty; but I know no young man who has better pros- 
 pects than myself, and few who have done so well. I suppose 
 I am worth now nearly $100,000 in good money. The Exami- 
 ner is very valuable property, and destined to be much more so. 
 I expect to live long, and, if I do, I shall be rich. When I am 
 rich, I shall buy the old family estate in StaflFord county, and 
 shall add to it all the land for miles around. I shall build a 
 house to my fancy, and, with my possessions walled in, I shall 
 teach these people what they never knew — how to live like a 
 gentleman." 
 
 Such, in eifect, and almost in words, was the picture he drew 
 of his future. It was the first and only time I ever knew him 
 to indulge his fancy in building air-castles. 
 
 I may add as one additional proof that he was not an atheist, 
 the fact that he made it a rule to publish in the Examiner^ on 
 each succeeding New Year's day, a poem in honor of the Deity. 
 He did this not merely because he thought it a becoming and 
 good old custom, but because it was a real gratification to him 
 to do so. He bestowed much thought on the selection of this 
 JS'ew Year's poem, singled it out months before hand, and some- 
 times consulted his friends to ascertain whether there was not 
 some poem of the kind with which he was not acquainted. He 
 certainly asked me to aid him in making such a selection, and I 
 have no reason to believe that he did not consult others also. 
 
 He hated men, but not mankind. To the latter he was indif- 
 ferent. But he despised men more than he hated them. It had 
 been his misfortune to view men from two inauspicuous stand- 
 points — from poverty on the one hand and from power on the 
 other — and in each case the picture was distorted by the medi- 
 um of a morbid physical and mental nature. Proud, with the 
 pride of an acute and bold intellect, he fancied, in his days of pen - 
 ury, that he was contemned and neglected, when he knew he 
 liad that within him which was to be neither neglected nor con- 
 
JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY. Bt 
 
 temned. After he had proved this, after he had become famous,, 
 prosperous and powerful, he despised men, because he fancied 
 they envied him his prosperity, feared his power and hated 
 himself. "Man pleased him not; no, nor woman either," be- 
 cause his sad experience had taught him to suspect the purity of 
 all motives. A little genuine humility, a moderate degree of 
 success, achieved in some other way than by attacking and 
 overpowering antagonists, would have made him a happier, 
 wiser and better man. He dreaded power in others, because,, 
 as he confessed to me, he knew its baneful effects upon himself. 
 He had no faith in men, because he knew how terrible would 
 be the consequences if no obstacle stood between men and the 
 accomplishment of their secret desires. He startled me one 
 day by saying: "How long do you think you would live if 
 your enemies had their way with you ? Perhaps you think you 
 have no enemies, who hate you enough to kill you. You are 
 greatly mistaken. Every man has his enemies. I have them 
 by the thousand, and you have them, too, though not so nume- 
 rous as mine. Neither your enemies nor mine would run the 
 risk of murdering us in open day ; but suppose they could kill 
 us by simply wishing it? I should drop dead in my tracks 
 before your eyes, and you, quiet and unknown as you are, 
 would fall a corpse in Main street before you reached home." 
 
 He owned that this horrible thought had been put into his 
 mind by some writer whom he had that day been reading. But 
 it was precisely such ideas that fastened themselves in his 
 memory. He brooded over them until they became a part of 
 his very being. No wonder he was morbid ! 
 
 Here I must stop, for I have told all, or nearly all, I know 
 about this remarkable man. The narrative has spun out under 
 my hand to a length very much greater than I intended when I 
 began to write. But I have willingly allowed myself to go on, 
 knowing as I do that every word about John M. Daniel will be 
 read with interest in every Southern State. It is to be hoped 
 that at some day those who were his intimate friends will do 
 perfectly what I have done most imperfectly, for lack of knowl- 
 edge on the one hand, and because of countless interruptions on 
 the other. Written piecemeal, this sketch claims no other merit 
 C* 
 
38 JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY. 
 
 than a faithful account of my acquaintance with its subject, 
 and an estimate, which I deem to be just, of his character. I 
 trust it will be viewed in this light, and that it may not provoke 
 one harsh criticism. If Messrs. P. H. Aylett and T. H. Wynne, 
 or Doctors Rawlings and Petticolas, could be induced to at- 
 tempt what I have undertaken, then the southern public would 
 have what so many desire to see, a full length portraiture of 
 one of the most gifted and brilliant men ever born on southern 
 soil. 
 
 A few words about his death, and I have done. Late in Jan- 
 uary, 1865, he was attacked, the second time with pneumonia. 
 Treated promptly by skillful physicians, his disease abated ; he 
 rallied, and was able to sit up and attend somewhat to his 
 duties. His recovery was deemed certain. But, as the event 
 proved, tubercles were developed both in the lungs and in the 
 mesenteric glands. The patient gradually grew worse and was 
 at length compelled to return to his bed. The slow weeks of 
 winter wore themselves away. How they passed, I cannot tell, 
 for, although I made frequent calls at the house on Broad street, 
 I was always refused admittance. The latch-key remained 
 unused in my pocket. Only his physicians and most intimate 
 friends were admitted to the sick man's chamber. On one 
 occasion, as I was told by a Kentucky member of the Confede- 
 rate Congress, he sent for the Hon. R. M. T. Hunter and one or 
 two other prominent politicians, and told them his candid opin- 
 ion — that the Cause was hopeless and that the only course left 
 to us was, "reconstruction on the best terms we could make." 
 
 So long as his strength permitted him to take an interest in 
 any earthly thing, he had the welfare of the southern people at 
 heart, and his latest effort seems to have been to secure by ne- 
 gotiation what he was persuaded arms could not achieve. Those 
 who outlived him can decide for themselves whether the con- 
 queror would have kept the faith which might have been plight- 
 ed at Fortress Monroe better than that which was so solemnly 
 pledged at Appomattox Court House. 
 
 As Spring approached, his symptoms became alarming. Ere 
 long, it was whispered on the streets that his situation was cri- 
 tical. Relatives and friends proffered every assistance. They 
 
JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY. 39 
 
 were politely but firmly told that assistance was not needed. 
 He was not a man to be " sat up with." His only attendant was 
 a female servant. Once or twice, perhaps oftener, h-e requested 
 his faithful manager, Walker, to sleep in an adjoining room ; 
 but Walker was hardly warm in his bed before he was aroused 
 by a message to the effect that Mr. Daniel wished to see him. 
 Hurrying on his clothes, he would go at once to the dying man's 
 bed, where, in a feeble voice, this strange announcement would 
 be made to him : 
 
 "Walker, you must really pardon me, but the truth is, that 
 the very fact of your being in the house makes me so nervous 
 that I cannot rest. Please go home." 
 
 Home the manager of the Examiner would go, sometimes long 
 after midnight, leaving the sufferer to his own thoughts. What 
 those were, no man will ever tell, for none ever knew. He must 
 have known that his days were numbered, for when he received 
 a bouquet of the earliest Spring flowers sent him by the daugh- 
 ter of his friend, Mr. Wynne, he took it in his wasted hand, 
 returned his thanks for the gift, and then laid it aside, mur- 
 muring "too late, now; too late !" 
 
 The editorial conduct of the Examiner had been in the exclu- 
 sive charge of John Mitchell for many weeks. Daniel no longer 
 concerned himself about it. His will was made ; he was ready 
 to depart. His physicians knew he could not live, but they 
 expected him to linger ten days or a fortnight longer. Plied 
 with stimulants, he might bear up yet a good while. But the 
 last hour was at hand. The exact circumstances of his death, 
 as told to me, are these. On making his usual morning call. 
 Dr. Rawlings found his friend's pulse sinking rapidly. No stim- 
 ulant being at hand, the supply in the house having been ex- 
 hausted, he dispatched a servant in all haste to get a bottle of 
 French brandy. It was quickly brought. When it came, he 
 proceeded forthwith to make a strong toddy. The patient was 
 then lying close to the outer edge of the bed. Dr. Rawlings 
 stood some distance off, near the window, stirring the toddy. 
 Suddenly, his attention was aroused by a noise behind him. 
 Looking quickly in that direction, he saw that the patient had, 
 
40 JOHN M. DANIEL'S LATCH-KEY. 
 
 by a strong effort, turned himself over and lay on his back in 
 the middle of the bed, with his eyes closed and his arms folded 
 on his breast. Thinking that he was praying, he would not 
 disturb him, but continued to stir the toddy a few minutes 
 longer, so as to give him time to finish his prayer. A sufficient 
 time having elapsed and the need of a stimulant being urgent, the 
 Doctor went to the bed side and leaned over. 
 
 John M. Daniel was not in this world ! 
 
 
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