Anecdotes, Poetry and Incidents of the War: North and South. 1860-1865.
Collected and Arranged by Frank Moore, published 1867
An Anecdote of John C. Calhoun
ONE morning, at the breakfast table, when I, an unobserved spectator, happened to be present, Calhoun was observed to gaze frequently at his right hand, and brush it with his left in a hurried and nervous manner. He did this so often that it excited attention. At length one of the persons comprising the breakfast party — his name, I think, is Toombs, and he is a member of Congress from Georgia — took upon himself to ask the occasion of Mr. Calhoun’s disquietude.
“Does your hand pain you?” he asked of Mr. Calhoun.
To this Mr. Calhoun replied, in rather a hurried manner, —
“Pshaw! it is nothing but a dream I had last night, and which makes me see perpetually a largo black, spot, like an ink blotch, upon the back of my right hand; an optical illusion, I suppose.”
Of course these words excited the curiosity of the company, but no one ventured to beg the details of this singular dream, until Toombs asked quietly,—
“What was your dream like ? I am not very superstitious about dreams; but sometimes they have a great deal of truth in them.”
“But. this was such a peculiarly absurd dream,” said Mr. Calhoun, again brushing the back of his right hand; “however, of it does not intrude too much on the time of our friends, I -will relate it to you.”
Of course the company ware profuse in their expressions of anxiety to know all about the dream, and Mr. Calhoun related it.
“At a late hour last night, as I was sitting in my room, engaged in writing, I was astonished by the entrance of a visitor, who, without a word, took a seat opposite me at my table. This surprised me, as I had given particular orders to the servant that I should on no account be disturbed. The manner in which the intruder entered, so perfectly self-possessed, taking his seat opposite me without a word, as though my room and all within it belonged to him, excited in me as much surprise as indignation. As I raised my head to look into his features, over the top of my shaded lamp, I discovered that he was wrapped in a thin cloak, which effectually concealed his face and features from my view; and as I raised my head, he spoke ; — More on The Spotted Hand.