were of a purely formal nature. Then the envelopes were opened; the
votes were counted; Calhoun was declared elected to the vice
presidency; and it was announced that no candidate for the presidency
had received a majority. Then the senators withdrew, and the
representatives addressed themselves to the task which the
Constitution devolved upon them. The members of each delegation took
their seats together; the vote of each State was placed in a separate
box on a table; and Daniel Webster and John Randolph, acting as
tellers, opened the boxes and tabulated the results. No one expected
the first ballot to be decisive; indeed the friends of Crawford, who
were present in large numbers, were pinning their hopes to the
possibility that after repeated ballotings the House would break the
deadlock between Jackson and Adams by turning to their candidate. A
hush fell upon the expectant assemblage as Webster rose to announce
the result; and seasoned politicians could hardly trust their ears
when they heard: Adams, thirteen votes; Jackson, seven; Crawford,
four. An eleventh-hour change of mind by a New York representative had
thrown the vote of that State into the Adams column and had thereby
assured the triumph of the New Englander.

That evening Jackson and Adams came face to face at a presidential
levee, Jackson with a lady on his right arm. Each man hesitated an
instant, and spectators wondered what was going to happen. But those
who were looking for a sensation were disappointed. Reaching out his
long arm, the General said in his most cordial manner: "How do you do,
Mr. Adams? I give you my left hand, for the right, as you see, is
devoted to the fair; I hope you are very well, sir." The reply came in
clear but icy tones: "Very well, sir; I hope General Jackson is well."
It is the testimony of an unprejudiced observer that of the two, the
defeated Tenneseean bore himself more graciously than the victorious