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Updated: May 12, 2025
Petitions now poured into Biddle's office and delegations from Middle States cities urged a change of the Bank's policy; even Albert Gallatin, long a defender and ardent friend, deserted Biddle.
Biddle's remark in a letter to a friend in Baltimore, "If the Bank charter were renewed or prolonged, I believe the pecuniary difficulties of the country would be immediately healed," shows his attitude; and by this time the people seem to have come to the conclusion that it was not a war of Jackson upon the Bank so much as a war of the Bank upon the country to compel the reissue of a charter which was about to expire.
We retreated the 16th and came as far as Biddle's former Station, when nigh 100 Indians left me, as they went after their things they left at the Forks of Licking, and I took the Road by the blue Licks as it was nigher and the ground more advantageous in case the Enemy should pursue us got to the Licks on the 17th and encamped.
One of the non-commissioned officers was dispatched with Dorion to a village twelve miles distant from the camp, taking presents of tobacco, corn, and cooking utensils. In view of the later history of the Sioux, and because of the intrinsic charm of the narrative, the story of this encounter is quoted at length from Mr. Biddle's well-edited version:
A little later, he said: "Do you remember, Nan, the day I stuck my finger into the cage of old Mrs. Biddle's South American parrot to coddle the brute and he all but chewed it off?" She nodded. "And you came straight here to have it attended to, instead of going to a doctor." "You wept when you saw my mangled digit. Remember, Nan? Strange how that scene persists in my memory!
This last was to be called in as speedily as possible and invested also in stocks of the above-mentioned bank, in that peculiar institution known as the Pennsylvania Bank, and still supposed to be under Mr. Biddle's superintendence.
Over his colleagues in this, as in another memorable instance, he seems to have had an absolute control. The architect, also, whose plan had been preferred, appears to have considered himself bound to adapt it to Mr. Biddle's conceptions of true excellence. And you now behold the result, a splendid temple in an unfinished state, instead of the unostentatious edifice contemplated by Mr. Girard.
"The newspapers have been discussing it for months past, all but Mr. Biddle's organ, and that alone was permitted to enter our doors. Mr. Bainrothe acknowledges this now. Have you not noticed the irregularity of our Washington papers?" "No; I so rarely read them, you know." "Mr.
My article in the ``North American Review. Renewal of my acquaintance with Mr. Evarts; his witty stories. My efforts to interest Senator Platt in civil-service reform; his slow progress in this respect. Wayne MacVeagh; Judge Biddle's remark at his table on American feeling regarding capital punishment. Great defeat of the Republican party in 1882. Judge Folger's unfortunate campaign.
It was a Thursday, and I'd come halfway out from town before I remembered that I hadn't bought a copy of Time, so I stopped at Biddle's drugstore, in the village, for one. Just as I was getting into my car, outside, Lane Fleming drove up and saw me. He blew his horn at me, and then waved to me with this revolver in his hand.
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