



Produced by Suzanne Lybarger and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net





  +------------------------------------------------------------+
  | Transcriber's Note                                         |
  |                                                            |
  | Obvious typographical errors have been corrected in        |
  | this text. For a complete list, please see the bottom of   |
  | this document.                                             |
  | Text printed using the Greek alphabet in the original book |
  | is shown as follows: [Greek: logos]                        |
  | Superscript letters are shown as follows: Jan^y            |
  | A letter with a breve is shown as follows: [)a]            |
  +------------------------------------------------------------+




AS I REMEMBER


[Illustration: MRS. GOUVERNEUR.]




AS I REMEMBER

_Recollections of American Society
during the Nineteenth Century_

BY

MARIAN GOUVERNEUR

ILLUSTRATED

NEW YORK AND LONDON
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
1911


COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY

Printed in the United States of America




TO THE MEMORY OF

MY FATHER

Judge James Campbell

WHOSE BENIGN INFLUENCE I STILL FEEL

AND TO

MY HUSBAND

Samuel L. Gouverneur, Jr.

THE COMPANION AND PILLAR OF STRENGTH

OF MY LATER YEARS

THIS BOOK IS INSCRIBED




PREFACE


The rambling personal notes threaded together in these pages were
written at the urgent request of my family, and have provided a pleasant
diversion during otherwise lonely hours. The idea of their publication
was highly distasteful to me until the often repeated importunities of
many of those whose judgment commands my respect persuaded me that some
of the facts and incidents I have recalled would prove of interest to a
large circle of readers. The narrative is concerned with persons and
events that have interested me during the busy hours of a lengthy life.
I have been deeply impressed by the changes wrought by time in the modes
of education, which are now so much at variance with those of my
childhood, and in the manners and customs of those with whom I have
mingled.

I should be guilty of an act of grave injustice if I failed to express
my grateful acknowledgments for the aid so unselfishly rendered, in a
score of ways, by my daughter, Mrs. Roswell Randall Hoes, without which
these pages would not, and could not, have been written.

M. GOUVERNEUR.




CONTENTS


CHAPTER                                                             PAGE

   I.--EARLY LONG ISLAND DAYS                                          1

  II.--NEW YORK AND SOME NEW YORKERS                                  21

 III.--SCHOOL-DAYS AND EARLY FRIENDS                                  50

  IV.--LIFE AND EXPERIENCES IN THE METROPOLIS                         69

   V.--LONG BRANCH, NEWPORT AND ELSEWHERE                             96

  VI.--SOME DISTINGUISHED ACQUAINTANCES                              118

 VII.--FASHION AND LETTERS                                           138

VIII.--WASHINGTON IN THE FORTIES                                     170

  IX.--SOCIAL LEADERS IN WASHINGTON LIFE                             194

   X.--DIPLOMATIC CORPS AND OTHER CELEBRITIES                        229

  XI.--MARRIAGE AND CONTINUED LIFE IN WASHINGTON                     256

 XII.--SOJOURN IN CHINA AND RETURN                                   288

XIII.--THE CIVIL WAR AND LIFE IN MARYLAND                            312

 XIV.--VISIT TO THE FAR SOUTH AND RETURN TO WASHINGTON               335

  XV.--TO THE PRESENT DAY                                            365




ILLUSTRATIONS


PAGE

Mrs. Gouverneur                                           _Frontispiece_

Samuel L. Gouverneur, Junior                                         116

Mrs. John Still Winthrop, _nee_ Armistead, by Sully                  146

Mrs. Charles Eames, _nee_ Campbell, by Gambadella                    178

Brigadier General Winfield Scott, U.S.A., by Ingham                  202

Mrs. James Munroe, _nee_ Kortright, by Benjamin West                 258

Miniature of James Monroe, painted in Paris in 1794 by Seme          284

Mrs. Gouverneur's three daughters, Miss Gouverneur, Mrs. Roswell
Randall Hoes, Mrs. William Crawford Johnson                          310




AS I REMEMBER




CHAPTER I

EARLY LONG ISLAND DAYS


I do not know of a spot where, had I been accorded the selection, I
should have preferred first to see the light of day, nor one more in
keeping with the promptings of sentiment, than the southern shore of
Long Island, N.Y., where I was born. My home was in Queens County, on
the old Rockaway Road, and often in childhood during storms at sea I
have heard the waves dash upon the Rockaway beach. Two miles the other
side of us was the village of Jamaica, and from our windows we caught
glimpses of the bay that bore its name. My first home was a large
old-fashioned house on a farm of many acres, ornamented by Lombardy
poplars which stood on each side of the driveway, a fashion introduced
into this country by Lafayette. My maternal grandfather, Captain John
Hazard, who had commanded a privateersman during the Revolution,
purchased the place from "Citizen" Edmond Charles Genet, the first
Minister of France to the United States, and I have the old parchment
deed of transfer still in my possession. During the War of the
Revolution my Grandfather Hazard's ship was captured by Admiral George
B. Rodney, and I have often heard my mother tell the story she received
from his lips, to the effect that after he was "comfortably housed in
irons" on Rodney's ship he overheard a conversation in which his name
was frequently mentioned. The subject under discussion was the form of
punishment he deserved, and the cheerful remark reached his ear: "Hang
the damned rebel." This incident made an indelible impression upon my
mother's memory, which was emphasized by the fact that her father bore
the scars of those irons to the day of his death.

I have no recollection of my Grandfather Hazard, as he died soon after
my birth. Jonathan Hazard, his brother, espoused the English cause
during the Revolution. This was possibly due to the influences of an
English mother, whose maiden name was Sarah Owen, of Shropshire. I have
heard my mother say that her grandmother was a descendant of Dr. John
Owen, Chaplain of Oliver Cromwell. A piece of silver bearing the Owen
coat of arms is still in the possession of a member of my family. He
entered the British navy, changed his name to Carr, and soon rose to the
rank of Post-Captain. He eventually drifted back to America and died
unmarried at my grandfather's home on Long Island many years after the
war. The trite saying that history repeats itself is here forcibly
illustrated by brother fighting against brother. It brings to mind our
own fraternal troubles during the Civil War, which can never be effaced
from memory.

Much of the furniture of my first home was purchased from Citizen Genet
when my grandfather took possession of the house and farm. We understood
that the French minister brought it with him from France, and many of
the pieces, some of which are mahogany, are still in my possession. A
bedstead which I still occupy has been said to be the first of its
design brought from France to this country. Hanging in my bedroom is a
set of engravings entitled "Diligence and Dissipation," after Hogarth,
and also a handsome old print of the Savior in the Pharisee's House, all
of which were purchased at the same time. Two alabaster ornaments are
memories of my earliest childhood, one of which was a column casting a
shadow that formed a likeness of Louis XVI.

My Grandfather Hazard had many slaves, and I remember hearing of one of
them who ran away and took with him a carriage and pair of horses, and,
who, when called to account for the act, threatened my grandfather's
life. My mother, although suffering from a severe indisposition, ran out
of the house for succor. The slave was taken into custody, and was
eventually sent South and sold. Some of the other slaves I well
remember. Among them was a very old couple with numerous progeny who
lived not far from us in a hut in the woods on the Hazard estate. In
subsequent years I heard my mother remark, upon the occasion of a
marriage in the family connection, that when "Cuff" and "Sary" were
married her father gave the clergyman five dollars for his services.
Cuff was an old-fashioned, festive <DW64> born in this country, and with
the firm belief that existence was bestowed upon him solely for his own
enjoyment. He possessed a genius for discovering holidays, and added
many to the calendar that were new to most of us. For example, sometimes
when he was given a task to accomplish, he would announce that he could
not work upon that day as it was "Paas Monday," or "Paas Tuesday," and
so on, continuing as the case required, through the week. He had supreme
contempt for what he called "Guinea <DW65>s," a term he applied to those
of his race who came directly from Africa, in contradistinction to those
who had been born in this country. One of Cuff's predecessors in the
Hazard family was named Ben, and I have the original deed of his
purchase from Hendrick Suydam, dated April 28th, 1807. The price paid
was two hundred dollars.

In the village of Jamaica was a well known academy where my mother
received the early part of her education. One of her preceptors there
was the Hon. Luther Bradish, who some years later became Lieutenant
Governor of the State of New York, and who at the time of his death was
president of the New York Historical Society. Her education was
continued at Miss Sarah Pierce's school in Litchfield, Connecticut, one
of the most fashionable educational institutions of that period. I have
heard my mother say that, accompanied by her father, she made the
journey to Litchfield in a chariot, the name applied to carriages in
those days, this, of course, being before there was any rail
communication with that place. In close proximity to Miss Pierce's
establishment was the law school of Judge James Gould, whose pupils were
a great social resource to Miss Pierce's scholars. This institution was
patronized by many pupils from the South, and during my mother's time
John C. Calhoun was one of its students. A few years ago a history of
the school was published, and a copy of the book was loaned me by the
late Mrs. Lucius Tuckerman of Washington, whose mother was educated
there and whose grandfather was the celebrated Oliver Wolcott of
Connecticut. After my mother's marriage, she and my father visited Miss
Pierce in Litchfield. This was during the Jackson campaign, while
political excitement ran so very high that a prominent physician of the
place remarked to my father, in perfectly good faith, that Jackson could
not possibly be elected President as he would receive no support from
Litchfield.

In Jamaica was the last residence of the Honorable Rufus King, our
minister to England under Washington and twenty years later a candidate
for the presidency. His son, Charles King, was the beloved President of
Columbia College in New York, and his few surviving students hold his
memory in reverence. The house in which the King family resided was a
stately structure with an _entourage_ of fine old trees. It eventually
passed into other hands, and a few years ago the entire property was
generously donated by the Daughters of the American Revolution to the
town of Jamaica, and is now called "King's Manor."

My grandfather, Captain John Hazard, was about fifty years old at the
time of his marriage to my grandmother, Miss Leupp, of New Jersey, who
died soon after, leaving an only child, my mother. A few years later he
married Lydia Blackwell at her home on Blackwell's Island, which her
father, Jacob Blackwell, had inherited from his father, Jacob Blackwell,
the son of Robert Blackwell, who was the progenitor of the family in
this country and gave his name to the island upon which he resided.
Several years later Captain Hazard was heard to remark that matrimony
was a lottery, and that he had drawn two prizes. I have in my possession
an old letter written by Miss Blackwell to my grandfather previous to
their marriage, which is so quaint and formal that I am tempted to give
it in full:

     Miss Blackwell's compliments to Captain Hazard and desires
     to know how he does--and if well enough will be glad to see
     him the first leisure day--as she has something of
     consequence to communicate and is sorry to hear that he has
     been so much indisposed as to deprive his friends of the
     pleasure of his company for this last fortnight--May you
     enjoy every happiness this imperfect estate affords is the
     sincere wish of your friend,

          L. B.

     Let me see you on Sunday.

     Burn this.

Captain Hazard brought his new bride to the old home on the Rockaway
Road where I was subsequently born, and she immediately took under her
protecting wing my mother, who was then but little more than an infant.
The babe grew and thrived, and never knew until she was a good-sized
girl that the woman who had so lovingly nurtured her was only a
step-mother. She learned the fact from a schoolmate who told her out of
revenge for some fancied wrong; and I shall always remember my mother
telling me how she hurried home feeling all the time that the cruel
story was untrue, only to have it confirmed by the lips of the woman who
had been as affectionate and unselfish as any mother could possibly have
been to her own child. In subsequent years, when my mother gathered her
own children around her, she held her step-mother up to us as the
embodiment of all female virtue and excellence, all of which is
confirmed by my own recollection of her remarkable character and
exemplary life.

On the farm adjoining us lived a crusty old bachelor by the name of
Martin, who in his earlier life had been professionally associated with
Aaron Burr. No human being was allowed to cross his threshold, but I
recall that years after his death I saw a large quantity of silver which
he had inherited, and which bore a martin for a crest. He was a terror
to all the children in our vicinity, and it was his habit to walk on the
neighboring roads clad in a dressing gown. More than once as I passed
him he accosted me with the interrogative, "Are you Nancy Hazard's
brat?"--a query that invariably prompted me to quicken my pace. Mr.
Martin kept a fine herd of cattle, among which was an obstreperous bull
whose stentorian tones were familiar to all the residents of the
adjoining places. When the children of our household were turbulent my
mother would often exclaim, "Listen to Martin's bull roaring!" This
invariably had a soothing effect upon the children, and strange to say
this trivial incident has descended among my kindred to the fourth
generation, for my mother's great-grandchildren are as familiar with
"Martin's bull" as my sisters and brothers and I were in our own
childhood.

Malcolm Campbell, my paternal grandfather, left Scotland subsequently to
our Revolution, accompanied by his wife and son James (my father), and
after a passage of several weeks landed in New York. His wife was Miss
Lucy McClellan. His father, Alexander Campbell, fought in the battle of
Culloden, and I have heard my father say that his grandfather's regiment
marched to the song of:

    "Who wadna fight for Charlie?
       Who wadna draw the sword?
     Who wadna up and rally,
       At their royal prince's word?
     Think on Scotia's ancient heroes,
       Think on foreign foes repell'd,
     Think on glorious Bruce and Wallace,
       Who the proud usurpers quell'd."

It is said he had previously been sent to Italy to collect arms and
ammunition for the "Young Pretender," the grandson of James II. The
battle of Culloden, which was fought on the 16th of April, 1746, and
which has often been called the "Culloden Massacre," caused the whole
civilized world to stand aghast. The order of the Duke of Cumberland to
grant no quarter to prisoners placed him foremost in the ranks of
"British beasts" that have disgraced the pages of history, and earned
for him the unenviable title of "The Butcher of Culloden." It has been
suggested in extenuation of his fiendish conduct that His Grace was
"deep in his cups" the night before the battle, and that the General to
whom the order was given, realizing the condition of the Duke, insisted
that his instructions should be reduced to writing. His Grace thereupon
angrily seized a playing card from the table where he was engaged in
gambling, and complied with the request. This card happened to be the
nine of diamonds, and to this day is known as "the curse of Scotland." A
long period elapsed before those who had sympathized with the Young
Pretender's cause were restored to the good graces of the English
throne, and it was Scotland that was compelled to bear the brunt of the
royal displeasure. The sins of the fathers were visited upon their
children, and it is not at all unlikely that the sympathies of Alexander
Campbell's son, Malcolm (my grandfather), for the last of the House of
Stuart developed a chain of circumstances that resulted, with other
causes, in his embarkation for America.

During the early period of my childhood I became familiar with the
Jacobite songs which my father used to sing, and which had been handed
down in the Campbell family. I was so deeply imbued during my early life
with the Jacobite spirit of my forefathers that when I read the account
in my English history of George I, carrying with him his little
dissolute Hanoverian Court and crossing the water to England to become
King of Great Britain, I felt even at that late day that the act was a
personal grievance. Through the passage of many years a fragment of one
of these Jacobite songs still rings in my ears:

    "There's nae luck aboot the hoose,
       There's nae luck ava [at all];
     There's little pleasure in the hoose
       When our gude man's awa."

Even now some of those songs appeal to me possibly in the same manner as
the "Marseillaise" to the French, or the "Ranz de Vaches" to the Swiss
who have wandered from their mountain homes, or as the strains of our
national hymn affect my own fellow countrymen in foreign lands, whose
hearts are made to throb when with uncovered heads they listen, and are
carried back in memory to the days of "auld lang syne."

My grandfather, Malcolm Campbell, received the degree of Master of Arts
from the University of St. Andrews, the great school of Scottish
Latinity, and his diploma conferring upon him that honor is still in the
possession of his descendants. Before leaving Scotland he had formed an
intimacy with Andrew Picken, and during the voyage to America enjoyed
the pleasing companionship of that gentleman together with his wife and
their two children. Mrs. Picken was the only daughter of Sir Charles
Burdette of London, whose wife was the daughter of the Earl of Wyndham.
She and Andrew Picken, who was a native of Stewarton, in Ayrshire, a
younger branch of a noble family, four years previously had made a
clandestine marriage and, after vainly attempting to effect a
reconciliation with her father, resolved upon emigrating to America.
Their daughter, Mrs. Sara Jane Picken Cohen, widow of the Rev. Dr.
Abraham H. Cohen of Richmond, Virginia, wrote the memoirs of her life,
and in describing her parents' voyage to this country says: "It was one
of those old-time voyages, of nine weeks and three days, from land to
land, and a very boisterous one it was. There had been a terrific storm,
which had raged violently for several days." This friendship formed in
the mother country was naturally much strengthened during the long
voyage, and when the two families finally reached New York, Mrs. Cohen
writes: "Here we settled down our two families, strangers in a strange
land. But the lamp of friendship burned brightly and lit us on the way;
our children grew up together in early childhood, and as brothers and
sisters were born in each family they were named in succession after
each other." It is pleasant to state that this friendship formed so many
generations ago is still continued in my family, as my daughters and I
frequently enjoy in our Washington home the pleasing society of Mr. and
Mrs. Roberdeau Buchanan, the latter of whom is the great granddaughter
of Mr. and Mrs. Andrew Picken.

Soon after his arrival in New York Malcolm Campbell established a
classical school at 85 Broadway nearly opposite Trinity Church. He
edited the first American edition of Cicero's orations and of Caesar's
commentaries, and also revised and corrected and published in 1808
l'Abbe Tardy's French dictionary. His first edition of Cicero is
dedicated to the "Right Reverend Benjamin Moore, D.D., Bishop of the
Protestant Episcopal Church in the State of New York, and President of
Columbia College," and another edition with the same text and imprint is
dedicated, in several pages of Latin, to the learned Samuel L. Mitchell,
M.D. He and his wife were buried in the graveyard of the Wall Street
Presbyterian Church. It may not be inappropriate in this connection to
refer to another instructor of an even earlier period which has come
within my notice, who taught reading, writing and arithmetic "with
becoming accuracy." In _The New York Journal Or The General Advertiser_
of the 30th of April, 1772, appears the following advertisement:

     THE RESPECTABLE PUBLIC is hereby informed that, agreeable to
     a former advertisement, a Seminary of Learning was opened at
     New Brunswick, last November, by the name of _Queen's
     College_,[1] and also a Grammar School, in order to prepare
     Youth for the same. Any Parents or Guardians who may be
     inclined to send their Children to this Institution, may
     depend upon having them instructed with the greatest Care
     and Diligence in all the Arts and Sciences usually taught in
     public Schools; the strictest Regard will be paid to their
     moral Conduct, (and in a word) to every Thing which may tend
     to render them a Pleasure to their Friends, and an Ornament
     to their Species.

     Also to obviate the Objection of some to sending their
     Children on Account of their small Proficiency in English, a
     proper Person has been provided, who attends at the Grammar
     School an Hour a Day, and teaches Reading, Writing and
     Arithmetic with becoming Accuracy--It is hoped that the
     above Considerations, together with the healthy and
     convenient Situation of the Place, on a Pleasant and
     navigable River, in the midst of a plentiful Country; the
     Reasonableness of the Inhabitants in the Price of Board, and
     the easy Access from all Places, either by Land or Water
     will be esteemed by the considerate Public, as a sufficient
     Recommendation of this infant College, which (as it is
     erected upon so Catholic a Plan) will undoubtedly prove
     _advantageous_ to our new American World, by assisting its
     SISTER SEMMINARIES to cultivate Piety, Learning, and
     Liberty.

          _Per Order of the Trustees_,

               FREDERICK FRELINGHUYSEN, Tutor.

     N.B. The Vacation of the College will be expired on
     Wednesday the 6th of May, any Students then offering
     themselves shall be admitted into such Class, as (upon
     Examination) they shall be found capable of entering.

The signer of this interesting advertisement was graduated from
Princeton College in 1770, and subsequently became a lawyer. His
distinguished son, Theodore, was widely known as a philanthropist and
Christian statesman, and at various periods was United States Senator,
Chancellor of the New York University, President of Rutgers College, a
candidate for the Vice Presidency of the United States, and President of
the American Bible Society. A grandson of the signer was the Hon.
Frederick Theodore Frelinghuysen, the well remembered United States
Senator and Secretary of State under President Arthur.

Speaking of the Frelinghuysen family, I recall an amusing story told at
the expense of Newark, New Jersey. When the late Secretary Frelinghuysen
presented himself at the gates of Heaven he was surprised not to be
recognized by St. Peter, who asked him who he was. "I am the Hon.
Frederick T. Frelinghuysen," was the response. "From where?" "Newark,
New Jersey." "Newark?" quoth St. Peter, "I never heard of that place,
but I will look on my list. No, it isn't there. I can not admit you, Mr.
Frelinghuysen." So the old gentleman proceeded and knocked at another
gate in the boundless immensity. The devil opened it and looked out. The
same conversation occurred as with St. Peter. Newark wasn't "on the
list." "My Heavens, Mr. Satan, am I then doomed to return to Newark?"
exclaimed the New Jersey statesman, and went back to the Newark
graveyard.

My father, James Campbell, was born in Callander, Scotland, and, as I
have before stated, came to this country with his parents as a very
young child. Both he and his father were clad in their Highland dress
upon their arrival in New York. His childhood was spent in the great
metropolis, and he subsequently studied law in Albany, with the Hon.
Samuel Miles Hopkins, the grandfather of Mrs. Arent Schuyler
Crowninshield. He was admitted to the bar, and almost immediately became
a Master in Chancery. In 1821 he was appointed Surrogate of New York, a
position which he retained for twenty years. He was always a pronounced
democrat, but notwithstanding this fact he was reappointed ten
successive times. In 1840, however, the Whig party was in the ascendency
in the New York Legislature, and through the instrumentality of William
H. Seward, who introduced a system called "pipe laying," the whole
political atmosphere was changed. "Pipe laying" was an organized scheme
for controlling votes, and derived its name from certain political
manipulations connected with the introduction of Croton water in New
York City. I have learned in later years that more approved methods are
frequently used for controlling votes. Modern ethics has discovered a
more satisfactory method through means of powerful corporations with
coffers wide open in the holy cause of electing candidates.

This unfortunate state of affairs resulted in the removal of my father
from office, and he immediately resumed the practice of law. Some of his
decisions as Surrogate are regarded as precedents to this day. Two of
the most prominent of these are "Watts and LeRoy vs. Public
Administrator" (a decision resulting in the establishment of the Leake
and Watts Orphan House) and "In the matter of the last Will and
Testament of Alice Lispenard, deceased." He is said to have owned about
this time the largest private library in New York City, composed largely
of foreign imprints, as he seemed to have but little regard for American
editions. The classical portion of his library, especially the volumes
published in Paris, was regarded as unusually choice and well selected.
He had also a large collection of Greek Testaments which he read in
preference to the translations. He owned a copy of Didot's Virgil and I
have always understood that, with the exception of one owned in the
Brevoort family of New York, it was at that time the only copy in
America. He retained his scholarly tastes throughout his whole life, and
in looking back I delight to picture him as seated in his library
surrounded by his beloved books. In 1850, about two years after his
death, his library was sold at auction, the catalogue of which covers
114 closely printed pages. Among the purchasers were William E. Burton,
the actor, Chief Justice Charles P. Daly and Henry W. Longfellow.

Professor Charles Anthon of Columbia College dedicated his Horace to my
father in the following choice words:

                            To
                  My old & valued friend
                   James Campbell, Esq.,
     who, amid the graver duties of a judicial station,
        can still find leisure to gratify a pure and
              cultivated taste, by reviving the
                 studies of earlier years.

The following letter from Professor Anthon, the original of which is
still retained by the family, was addressed to my mother shortly after
my father's death.

     COL[UMBIA] COLL[EGE], Sep. 3d 1849.

     Dear Madam,

     I dedicated the accompanying work to your lamented husband
     in happier years, while he was still in the full career of
     honourable usefulness; and, now that death has taken him
     from us, I deem it but right that the volume which bore his
     name while living, should still continue to be a memento of
     him. May I request you to accept this humble but sincere
     tribute to the memory of a most valued friend?

          I remain, very respectfully and truly,

               CHAS. ANTHON.

     Mrs. Campbell,
          Houston Street.

When Professor Anthon was about forty-eight years of age Edgar Allan Poe
described him as "about five feet, eight inches in height; rather stout;
fair complexion; hair light and inclined to curl; forehead remarkably
broad and high; eye gray, clear, and penetrating; mouth well-formed,
with excellent teeth--the lips having great flexibility, and consequent
power of expression; the smile particularly pleasing. His address in
general is bold, frank, cordial, full of _bonhomie_. His whole air is
_distingue_ in the best understanding of the term--that is to say, he
would impress anyone at first sight with the idea of his being no
ordinary man. He has qualities, indeed, which would have assured him
eminent success in almost any pursuit; and there are times in which his
friends are half disposed to regret his exclusive devotion to classical
literature."

My father was a trustee of the venerable New York Society Library and
one of the directors of the old United States Bank in Philadelphia; and
I have in my possession a number of interesting letters from Nicholas
Biddle, its president, addressed to him and asking his advice and
counsel. For eighteen years he was a trustee of Columbia College in New
York, and enjoyed the close friendship of President William A. Duer,
Reverend and Professor John McVickar, James Renwick, Professor of
Chemistry, whose mother, Jennie Jeffery, was Burns's "Blue-e'ed
Lassie," and Professor Charles Anthon, all of whom filled chairs in
that institution with unquestioned ability. My father was also a member
of the St. Andrews Society of New York. After his death, President Duer
in an impressive address alluded to him in the following manner:

"Two of our associates with whom I have been similarly connected and
have known from boyhood have also departed, leaving sweet memories
behind them, James Campbell and David S. Jones, the former a scholar and
a ripe and good one, once honoring the choice of his fellow citizens and
winning golden opinions as Surrogate of this city and county."

President Duer had a most interesting family of children. His eldest
married daughter, Frances Maria, was the wife of Henry Shaeffe Hoyt of
Park Place, and died recently in Newport at a very advanced age. Eleanor
Jones Duer, another daughter, married George T. Wilson, an Englishman.
She was a great beauty, bearing a striking resemblance to Fanny Kemble,
and was remarkable for her strong intellect. Her marriage was
clandestine, and the cause, as far as I know, was never explained. Still
another daughter, Elizabeth, married Archibald Gracie King of Weehawken,
and was a Colonial Dame of much prominence in her later years. She was
the mother of the authoress, Mrs. John King Van Rensselaer. President
Duer's wife was Hannah Maria Denning of Fishkill, New York. I knew her
only as an elderly woman possessing a fine presence and social tastes.

In my early life the students of Columbia College enjoyed playing
practical jokes upon its dignified professors. As an illustration, I
remember once seeing the death of Professor Renwick fictitiously
published in one of the daily journals, much to the sorrow and
subsequently the indignation of a large circle of friends. Professor
Anthon, too, although a confirmed bachelor, had to face his turn, and
his marriage to some unknown bride bearing an assumed name was an
occasional announcement. But the most amusing feature of the joke would
appear in the morning, when an emphatic denial would be seen in the
columns of the same newspaper, accompanied by a quotation in spurious
Latin. Professor Anthon lived with his two spinster sisters in one of
the college buildings, and their home was a rendezvous for an
appreciative younger generation. In connection with his duties at the
college, he was the head of the Columbia College Grammar School, and I
have always understood that he strictly followed the scriptural
injunction not "to spare the rod." His victims were repeatedly heard to
remark that these flagellations partially counterbalanced the lack of
exercise which he felt very keenly in his sedentary life. But with all
his austerity his pupils would occasionally be astonished over the
amount of humor that he was capable of displaying. His handwriting was
exquisitely minute in character, and I have in my possession two
valentines composed by him and sent to me which are quaintly beautiful
in language and, although sixty years old, are still in a perfect state
of preservation.

                   _To Miss Marian Campbell._
    The Campbell is coming! Ye Gentles beware,
    For Don Cupid lies hid in her dark flowing hair,
    And her eyes, bright as stars that in mid-heaven roll,
    Pierce through frock-coat and dickey right into the soul!
    And ye lips which the coral might envy, I ween,
    And ye pearl rows that peep from the red lips between,
    And that soft-dimpled cheek, with the hue of the rose,
    And that smile which bears conquest wherever it goes,
    Oh, could I but think that you soon would be mine,
    I'd send Marian each morning a sweet valentine.
      Feb'y 14, 1844.

(Written a few years later.)

    Sweet girl! within whose laughing eye
    A thousand little Cupids lie,
    While every curl, that floats above
    Thy noble brow, seems fraught with love.

    Oh, list to me, my loved one, list!
    Thy Tellkampf's suit no more resist,
    But give to him, to call his own,
    A heart where Kings might make their throne.

John Louis Tellkampf, to whom Anthon so facetiously alludes in the
second valentine, was a young German who frequently came to our house,
and who, through my father's aid and influence, in subsequent years
became professor of German in Columbia College. When we first knew him
he spoke English with much difficulty, and it was a standing joke in our
household that once when he desired to say that a certain person had
been born he expressed the fact as "getting alive."

Malcolm Campbell, a younger brother of mine, was graduated in 1850 from
Columbia College near the head of his class. Among his classmates were
Charles Seymour, subsequently Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church
of Illinois, and the distinguished lawyer Frederick R. Coudert, whose
father kept a boys' French school in Bleecker Street. My brother
subsequently studied law in the office of Judge Henry Hilton, and for
many years practiced at the New York bar. Upon a certain occasion he and
Samuel F. Kneeland were opposing counsel in an important suit during
which Mr. Kneeland kept quoting from his own work upon "Mechanics'
Liens." My brother endured this as long as his patience permitted and
then, slowly rising to his feet, said: "I have cited decisions on the
point in controversy, but my learned opponent cites nothing except his
own opinions printed in his own book. With such persistency has he done
this that I have been tempted to write these lines:

    "Oh, Kneeland! dear Kneeland, pray what do you mean
     By such a fat book on the subject of Lien?
     Was it for glory or was it for pelf,
     Or just for the pleasure of quoting yourself?"

It seems almost needless to add that this doggerel was followed by a
round of applause, and that Chief Justice Charles P. Daly and Judge
Joseph F. Daly, as well as Judge George M. Van Hoesen, who were on the
bench at this time, joined in the merriment.

The commencement exercises of Columbia College, as I remember them, took
place every summer in St. John's Church opposite St. John's Park, and I
often attended them in my early days. Columbia College at this period
was in the lower part of the city between College and Park Places, and
was the original King's College of colonial days. All of the professors
lived in the college buildings in a most unostentatious manner, and I
readily recall frequent instances during my early childhood when, in
company with my father, I walked to the college and took a simple six
o'clock supper with Professor Anthon and his sisters.

My mother met my father while visiting in New York, and the acquaintance
eventually resulted in a runaway marriage. They were married on the 10th
of June, 1818, and nine days later the following notice appeared in _The
National Advocate_:

     _Married._

     At Flushing, L.I., by the Rev. Mr. [Barzilla] Buckley, James
     Campbell esq. of this city, to Miss Mary Ann Hazard,
     daughter of John Hazard, esq. of Jamaica, Long Island.

The objection of my Grandfather Hazard to my mother's marriage was not
unnatural, as she was his only child, and being at this time well
advanced in years he dreaded the separation. But the happy bride
immediately brought her husband to live in the old home where she had
been born, where the young couple began their married life under
pleasing auspices, and my father continued his practice of law in New
York. I had the misfortune of being a second daughter. Traditionally, I
know that my grandfather most earnestly desired a grandson at that time,
and when the nurse announced my birth, she was not sufficiently
courageous to tell the truth, and said: "A boy, sir!" Her faltering
manner possibly betrayed her, as the sarcastic retort was: "I dare say,
an Irish boy."

My ambitious parents sent me with my oldest sister, Fanny, at the early
age of four, to a school in the village of Jamaica conducted by Miss
Delia Bacon. My recollection of events occurring at this early period is
not very vivid, but I still recall the vision of three beautiful women,
Delia, Alice and Julia Bacon, who presided over our school. This
interesting trio were nieces of the distinguished author and divine, the
Rev. Dr. Leonard Bacon, who for fifty-seven years was pastor of the
First Congregational Church of New Haven. Many years subsequent to my
school days, Delia Bacon became, as is well known, an enthusiastic
advocate of the Baconian authorship of Shakespeare's plays. I have
understood that she made a pilgrimage to Stratford-on-Avon hoping to
secure the proper authority to reopen Shakespeare's grave, a desire,
however, that remained ungratified. She was a woman of remarkable
ability, and I have in my possession the book, written by her nephew,
which tells the story of her life. I was Miss Bacon's youngest pupil,
and attended school regularly in company with my sister, whither we were
driven each morning in the family carriage. My studies were not
difficult, and my principal recollection is my playing out of doors with
a dog named Sancho, while the older children were busy inside with their
studies.

During my Long Island life, as a very young child, I was visiting my
aunts in Jay Street, New York, when I was taken to Grant Thorburn's seed
shop in Maiden Lane, which I think was called "The Arcade." There was
much there to delight the childish fancy--canaries, parrots, and other
birds of varied plumage. Thorburn's career was decidedly unusual. He
was born in Scotland, where he worked in his father's shop as a
nailmaker. He came to New York in 1794 and for a time continued at his
old trade. He then kept a seed store and, after making quite a fortune,
launched into a literary career and wrote under the _nom de plume_ of
"Laurie Todd."

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Now Rutgers College.




CHAPTER II

NEW YORK AND SOME NEW YORKERS


About 1828 my parents moved to New York, and immediately occupied the
house, No. 6 Hubert Street, purchased by my father, and pleasantly
located a short distance from St. John's Park, then the fashionable
section of the city. This park was always kept locked, but it was the
common play-ground of the children of the neighborhood, whose families
were furnished with keys, as is the case with Gramercy Park to-day. St.
John's Church overlooked this park, and the houses on the other three
sides of the square were among the finest residences in the city. Many
of them were occupied by families of prominence, among which were those
of Watts, Gibbes, Kemble, Hamilton and Smedberg. Next door to us on
Hubert Street lived Commander, subsequently Rear Admiral, Charles
Wilkes, U.S.N., and his young family. His first wife was Miss Jane
Jeffrey Renwick, who was a sister of Professor James Renwick of Columbia
College, and after her death he married Mary Lynch, a daughter of Henry
Lynch of New York and the widow of Captain William Compton Bolton of the
Navy. This, of course, was previous to his naval achievements, which are
such well known events in American history. In after life Admiral and
Mrs. Wilkes moved to Washington, D.C., where I renewed my friendship of
early days and where members of his family still reside, beloved and
respected by the whole community.

Mr. Thomas S. Gibbes of South Carolina, whose wife was Miss Susan
Annette Vanden Heuvel, daughter of John C. Vanden Heuvel, a wealthy
land owner, lived on Hudson Street, facing St. John's Park. Their elder
daughter Charlotte Augusta, who married John Jacob Astor, son of William
B. Astor, was an early playmate of mine, and many pleasant memories of
her as a little girl cluster around St. John's Park, where we romped
together. When I first knew the Gibbes family it had recently returned
from a long residence in Paris, an unusual experience in these days, and
both Charlotte Augusta and her younger sister, Annette Gibbes, sang in a
very pleasing manner French songs, which were a decided novelty to our
juvenile ears. Mrs. Gibbes's sisters were Mrs. Gouverneur S. Bibby and
Mrs. John C. Hamilton.

Directly opposite St. John's Park, on the corner of Varick and Beach
streets, was Miss Maria Forbes's school for young girls, which was the
fashionable school of the day. I attended it in company with my sister
Fanny and my brother James who was my junior. Miss Forbes occasionally
admitted boys to her school when accompanied by older sisters. Our life
there was regulated in accordance with the strictest principles of
learning and etiquette, and a child would have been deficient indeed who
failed to acquire knowledge under the tuition of such an able teacher.
School commenced promptly at eight o'clock and continued without
intermission until three.

The principal of the school was the daughter of John Forbes, who for
thirty years was the librarian of the New York Society Library. He was a
native of Aberdeen in Scotland, and was brought to this country in
extreme youth by a widowed mother of marked determination and piety,
with the intention of launching him successfully in life. He early
displayed a fondness for books, and must have shown an uncommon maturity
of mind and much executive ability, as he was only nineteen when he was
appointed to the position just named. It is an interesting fact that he
accepted the librarianship in 1798 with a salary of two hundred and
fifty dollars a year in addition to the fines and two and a half per
cent. upon all moneys collected, besides the use or rental of the lower
front room of the library building. After many years of labor his salary
was raised to five hundred dollars. Upon his death in October, 1824, the
trustees, out of respect to his memory, voted to attend his funeral in a
body and ordered the library closed for the remaining four days of the
week. He married Miss Martha Skidmore, daughter of Lemuel Skidmore, a
prominent iron and steel merchant of New York, and I have no doubt that
Maria Forbes, their daughter and my early teacher, inherited her
scholarly tastes from her father, of whom Dr. John W. Francis in his
"Old New York" justly speaks as a "learned man."

Miss Forbes was a pronounced disciplinarian, and administered one form
of punishment which left a lasting impression upon my memory. For
certain trivial offenses a child was placed in a darkened room and
clothed in a tow apron. One day I was subjected to this punishment for
many hours, an incident which naturally I have never yet been able to
forget. On the occasion referred to Miss Forbes was obliged to leave the
schoolroom for a few minutes and, unfortunately for my happiness,
appointed my young brother James to act as monitor during her absence.
His first experience in the exercise of a little authority evidently
turned his head, for upon the return of our teacher I was reported for
misbehavior. The charge against me was that I had smiled. It is too long
ago to remember whether or not it was a smile of derision, but upon
mature reflection I think it must have been. I knew, however, in my
childish heart that I had committed no serious offense and, as can
readily be imagined, my indignation was boundless. It was the first act
of injustice I had ever experienced. Feeling that the punishment was
undeserved, and smarting under it, with abundance of leisure upon my
hands, I bit the tough tow apron into many pieces. When Miss Forbes
after a few hours, which seemed to me an eternity, came to relieve me
from my irksome position and noticed the condition of the apron, she
regaled me with a homily upon the evils of bad temper, and gave as
practical illustrations the lives of some of our most noted criminals,
all of whom had expiated their crimes upon the gallows.

In recalling these early school days it seems to me that the rudiments
of education received far more attention then than now. Spelling was
regarded as of chief importance and due consideration was given to
grammar. There were no "frills" then, such as physical culture, manual
training and the like, and vacation lasted but thirty days, usually
during the month of August. Some of my earliest friendships were formed
at Miss Forbes's school, many of which I have retained through a long
life. Among my companions and classmates were the Tillotsons, Lynches,
Astors, Kembles, Hamiltons, Duers, and Livingstons.

But in spite of the severe discipline of Miss Forbes's school, her
pupils occasionally engaged in current gossip. It was in her schoolroom
I first made the discovery that this earth boasted of such valuable
adjuncts to the human family as title-bearing gentlemen, and in this
particular case it was a live Count that was brought to my notice. Count
Louis Fitzgerald Tasistro had recently arrived in New York, and his
engagement to Adelaide Lynch, a daughter of Judge James Lynch, of an old
New York family, was soon announced. On the voyage to America he had
made the acquaintance of a son of Lord Henry Gage of England, whose
principal object in visiting this country was to make the acquaintance
of his kinsman, Mr. Gouverneur Kemble. Through his instrumentality
Tasistro was introduced into New York's most exclusive set, and soon
became the lion of the hour. We girls discussed the engagement and
subsequent marriage of the distinguished foreigner (_sub rosa_, of
course), and to our childish vision pictured a wonderful career for this
New York girl. The marriage, however, soon terminated unfortunately, and
to the day of his death Tasistro's origin remained a mystery. He was an
intellectual man of fine presence and skilled in a number of foreign
languages. He claimed he was a graduate of Dublin College. Many years
later, after I had become more familiar with title-bearing foreigners,
Tasistro again crossed my path in Washington, where he was acting as a
translator in the State Department; but after a few years, owing to an
affection of the eyes, he was obliged to give up this position, and his
condition was one of destitution. Through the instrumentality of my
husband he obtained an annuity from his son, whom, by the way, he never
knew; and for some years, in a spirit of gratitude, taught my children
French. His last literary effort was the translation of the first two
volumes of the Comte de Paris's "History of the Civil War in America."
His devotion to my husband was pathetic, and I have frequently heard the
Count say during the last years of his life that he never met him
without some good fortune immediately following.

After Mr. Gouverneur's death I received the following letter from
Tasistro, which is so beautiful in diction that I take pleasure in
inserting it:

     WASHINGTON, April 26, 1880.

     My dear Mrs. Gouverneur,

     Had I obeyed implicitly the impulses of my heart, or been
     less deeply affected by the great loss which will ever
     render the 5th of April a day of sad & bitter memories to
     me, I should perhaps have been more expeditious in rendering
     to you the poor tribute of my condolence for the terrible
     bereavement which it has pleased the Supreme Ruler of all
     things to afflict you with.

     My own particular grief in thus losing the best & most
     valued friend I ever had on earth, receives additional
     poignancy from the fact that, although duly impressed with
     an abiding sense of the imperishable obligation, conferred
     upon me by my lamented friend, I have been debarred, by my
     own physical infirmities, from proffering those services
     which it would have afforded me so much consolation to
     perform.

     I should be loath, however, to start on my own journey for
     that shadowy land whose dim outlines are becoming daily more
     & more visible to my mental eye, without leaving some kind
     of record attesting to the depth of my appreciation of all
     the noble attributes which clustered around your husband's
     character--of my intense & lasting gratitude for his
     generous exertions in my behalf, & my profound sympathy for
     you personally in this hour of sorrow & affliction.

     Hoping that you may find strength adequate to the emergency,
     I remain, with great respect,

          Your devoted servant,

               L. F. TASISTRO.

A valued friend of my father's was Dr. John W. Francis, the "Doctor
Sangrado" of this period, who, with other practitioners of the day,
believed in curing all maladies by copious bleeding and a dose of
calomel. He was the fashionable physician of that time and especially
prided himself upon his physical resemblance to Benjamin Franklin. He
had much dramatic ability of a comic sort, and I have often heard the
opinion expressed that if he had adopted the stage as a profession he
would have rivalled the comedian William E. Burton, who at this time was
delighting his audiences at Burton's Theater on Chambers Street. In my
early life when Dr. Francis was called to our house professionally the
favorite dose he invariably prescribed for nearly every ailment was
"calomel and jalap."

One day during school hours at Miss Forbes's I was suddenly summoned to
return to my home. I soon discovered after my arrival that I was in the
presence of a tribunal composed of my parents and Dr. Francis. I was
completely at a loss to understand why I was recalled with, what seemed
to me, such undue haste, as I was entirely unconscious of any
misdemeanor. I soon discovered, however, that I was in great trouble. It
seems that a young girl from Santa Cruz, a boarding pupil at our school,
had died of a malady known at this period as "iliac passion," but now as
appendicitis. Her attending physician was Dr. Ralph I. Bush, a former
surgeon in the British Navy, and I soon learned to my dismay that I was
accused of having made an indiscreet remark in regard to his management
of my schoolmate's case, although to this day I have never known exactly
how Dr. Francis, as our family physician, was involved in the affair. I
stood up as bravely as I could under a rigid cross-examination, but,
alas! I had no remembrance whatever of making any remark that could
possibly offend. At any rate, Dr. Bush had given Dr. Francis to
understand that he was ready to settle the affair according to the
approved method of the day; but Dr. Francis was a man of peace, and had
no relish for the code. Possibly, with the reputed activity of Sir
Lucius O'Trigger, Dr. Bush had already selected his seconds, as I have
seldom seen a man more unnerved than Dr. Francis by what proved after
all to be only a trifling episode. Soon after my trying interview,
however, explanations followed, and the two physicians amicably adjusted
the affair.

It seems that this unfortunate entanglement arose from a
misunderstanding. There were two cases of illness at Miss Forbes's
school at the same time, the patient of Dr. Bush already mentioned and
another child suffering from a broken arm whom Dr. Francis attended. He
set the limb but, as he was not proficient as a surgeon, the act was
criticized by the schoolgirls within my hearing. My sense of loyalty to
my family doctor caused me to utter some childish remark in his defense
which was possibly to the effect that he was a great deal better doctor
than Dr. Bush, who had failed to save the life of our late schoolmate.
In recalling this childish episode which caused me so much anxiety I am
surprised that such unnecessary attention was paid to the passing remark
of a mere child.

Dr. Francis was as proficient in quoting wise maxims as Benjamin
Franklin, whom he was said to resemble. One of them which I recall is
the epitome of wisdom: "If thy hand be in a lion's mouth, get it out as
fast as thou canst."

I may here state, by the way, that in close proximity to Dr. Francis's
residence on Bond Street lived Dr. Eleazer Parmly, the fashionable
dentist of New York. He stood high in public esteem and a few still
living may remember his pleasing address. He accumulated a large fortune
and I believe left many descendants.

The girls at Miss Forbes's school were taught needle work and
embroidery, for in my early days no young woman's education was regarded
as complete without these accomplishments. I quote from memory an
elaborate sampler which bore the following poetical effusion:

    What is the blooming tincture of the skin,
    To peace of mind and harmony within?
    What the bright sparkling of the finest eye
    To the soft soothing of a kind reply?

    Can comeliness of form or face so fair
    With kindliness of word or deed compare?
    No. Those at first the unwary heart may gain,
    But these, these only, can the heart retain.

It seems remarkable that after spending months in working such effusive
lines, or others similar to them, Miss Forbes's pupils did not become
luminaries of virtue and propriety. If they did not their failure
certainly could not be laid at the door of their preceptress.

Miss Forbes personally taught the rudiments but Mr. Luther Jackson, the
writing master, visited the school each day and instructed his scholars
in the Italian style of chirography. Mr. Michael A. Gauvain taught
French so successfully that in a short time many of us were able to
place on the amateur boards a number of French plays. Our audiences were
composed chiefly of admiring parents, who naturally viewed the
performances with paternal partiality and no doubt regarded us as
incipient Rachels. I remember as if it were only yesterday a play in
which I took one of the principal parts--"Athalie," one of Jean Racine's
plays.

This mode of education was adopted in Paris by Madame Campan, the
instructor of the French nobility as well as of royalty during the First
Empire. In her manuscript memoirs, addressed to the children of her
brother, "Citizen" Edmond Charles Genet, who was then living in America,
and of which I have an exact copy, she dwells upon the histrionic
performances by her pupils, among whom were Queen Hortense and my
husband's aunt, Eliza Monroe, daughter of President James Monroe and
subsequently the wife of Judge George Hay of Virginia. She gives a
graphic account of the Emperor attending one of these plays, when
"Esther," one of Racine's masterpieces, was performed.

The dancing master, who, of course, was an essential adjunct of every
well regulated school, was John J. Charraud. He was a refugee from Hayti
after the revolution in that island, and opened his dancing-school in
New York on Murray Street, but afterwards gave his "publics" in the City
Hall. He taught only the cotillion and the three-step waltz and came to
our school three times a week for this purpose. Much attention was given
to poetry, and I still recall the first piece I committed to memory,
"Pity the Sorrows of a Poor Old Man." My father thoroughly believed in
memorizing verse, and he always liberally rewarded me for every piece I
was able to recite. I may state, by the way, that Blair's Rhetoric was
a textbook of our school and the one which I most enjoyed.

Miss Forbes had a number of medals which the girls were allowed to wear
at stated periods for proficiency in their studies as well as for
exemplary deportment. There was one of these which was known as the
"excellence medal," and the exultant pupil upon whom it was bestowed was
allowed the privilege of wearing it for two weeks. Upon it was inscribed
the well known proverb of Solomon, "Many daughters have done virtuously,
but thou excellest them all."

Among the pleasant memories of my early life are the dinners given by my
father, when the distinguished men of the day gathered around his
hospitable board. In New York at this time all the professional cooks
and waiters in their employ were <DW52> men. Butlers were then unknown.
It was also before the days of _a la Russe_ service, and I remember
seeing upon some of these occasions a saddle of venison, while at the
opposite end of the table there was always a Westphalia ham. Fresh
salmon was considered a _piece de resistance_. Many different wines were
always served, and long years later in a conversation with Gov. William
L. Marcy, who was a warm friend of my father, he told me he was present
on one of these occasions when seven different varieties of wine were
served. I especially remember a dinner given by him in honor of Martin
Van Buren. He was Vice-President of the United States at the time and
was accompanied to New York by John Forsyth of Georgia, a member of
Jackson's cabinet. Some of the guests invited to meet him were Gulian C.
Verplanck, Thomas Morris, John C. Hamilton, Philip Hone and Walter
Bowne. The day previous to this dinner my father received the following
note from Mr. Van Buren:

     My dear Sir,

     Our friend Mr. Forsyth, is with me and you must send him an
     invitation to dine with you to-morrow if, as I suppose is
     the case, I am to have that honor.

          Yours truly,

               M. VAN BUREN.
               Sunday, June 9, '33.

     J. Campbell, Esq.

Martin Van Buren was a political friend of my father's from almost his
earliest manhood. Two years after he was appointed Surrogate he received
the following confidential letter from Mr. Van Buren. As will be seen,
it was before the days when he wrote in full the prefix "Van" to his
name:

     _Private._

     My dear Sir,

     Mr. Hoyt wishes me to quiet your apprehensions on the
     subject of the Elector.[2] I will state to you truly how the
     matter stands. My sincere belief is that we shall succeed;
     at the same time I am bound to admit that the subject is
     full of difficulties. If the members were now, and without
     extraneous influence, to settle the matter, the result would
     be certain. But I know that uncommon exertions have been,
     and are making, by the outdoor friends of Adams & Clay to
     effect a co-operation of their forces in favor of a divided
     ticket. Look at the "National Journal" of the 23d, and you
     will find an article, prepared with care, to make influence
     there. A few months ago Mr. Adams would have revolted at
     such a publication. It is the desperate situation of his
     affairs that has brought him to it. The friends of Clay
     (allowing Adams more strength than he may have), have no
     hopes of getting him (Clay) into the house, unless they get
     a part of this State. The certain decline of Adams in other
     parts & the uncertainty of his strength in the east alarm
     his friends on the same point. Thus both parties are led to
     the adoption of desperate measures. Out of N. England Adams
     has now no reason to expect more than his three or four
     votes in Maryland. A partial discomfiture in the east may
     therefore bring him below Mr. Clay's western votes, & if it
     should appear that he (Adams) cannot get into the house, the
     western votes would go to Crawford. If nothing takes place
     materially to change the present state of things, we hope to
     defeat their plans here. But if you lose your Assembly
     ticket, there is no telling the effect it may produce, & my
     chief object in being thus particular with you is to conjure
     your utmost attention to that subject. About the Governor's
     election there is no sort of doubt. I am not apt to be
     confident, & _I aver that the matter is so._ But it is to
     the Assembly that interested men look, and the difference of
     ten members will (with the information the members can have
     when they come to act) be decisive in the opinion of the
     present members as to the complexion of the next house.
     There are _other points of view_ which I cannot now state to
     you, in which the result I speak of may seriously affect the
     main question. Let me therefore entreat your serious
     attention to this matter. _Be careful of this._ Your city is
     a gossiping place, & what you tell to one man in confidence
     is soon in the mouths of hundreds. You can impress our
     friends on this subject without connecting me with it. Do
     so.

          Your sincere friend,

               M. V. BUREN.
               Albany, Octob. 28, 1824.

     James Campbell, Esq.

The Mr. Hoyt referred to in the opening sentence of this letter was
Jesse Hoyt, another political friend of my father's who, under Van
Buren's administration, was Collector of the Port of New York. During my
child life on Long Island he made my father occasional visits, and in
subsequent years lived opposite us on Hubert Street. He was the first
one to furnish me with a practical illustration of man's perfidy. As a
very young child I consented to have my ears pierced, when Mr. Hoyt
volunteered to send me a pair of coral ear-rings, but he failed to carry
out his promise. I remember reading some years ago several letters
addressed to Hoyt by "Prince" John Van Buren which he begins with "Dear
Jessica."

Table appointments at this time were most simple and unostentatious.
Wine coolers were found in every well regulated house, but floral
decorations were seldom seen. At my father's dinners, given upon special
occasions, the handsome old silver was always used, much of which
formerly belonged to my mother's family. The forks and spoons were of
heavy beaten silver, and the knives were made of steel and had ivory
handles. Ice cream was always the dessert, served in tall pyramids, and
the universal flavor was vanilla taken directly from the bean, as
prepared extracts were then unknown. I have no recollection of seeing
ice water served upon any well-appointed table, as modern facilities for
keeping it had yet to appear, and cold water could always be procured
from pumps on the premises. The castors, now almost obsolete, containing
the usual condiments, were _de rigueur_; while the linen used in our
home was imported from Ireland, and in some cases bore the coat of arms
of the United States with its motto, "_E Pluribus Unum_." My father's
table accommodated twenty persons and the dinner hour was three o'clock.
These social functions frequently lasted a number of hours, and when it
became necessary the table was lighted by lamps containing sperm oil and
candles in candelabra. These were the days when men wore ruffled shirt
fronts and high boots.

I still have in my possession an acceptance from William B. Astor, son
of John Jacob Astor, to a dinner given by my father, written upon very
small note paper and folded in the usual style of the day:

     Mr. W. Astor will do himself the honor to dine with Mr.
     Campbell to-day agreeable to his polite invitation.

     May 28th.

     James Campbell Esq.
          Hubert Street.

I well remember a stag dinner given by my father when I was a child at
which one of the guests was Philip Hone, one of the most efficient and
energetic Mayors the City of New York has ever had. He is best known
to-day by his remarkable diary, edited by Bayard Tuckerman, which is a
veritable storehouse of events relating to the contemporary history of
the city. Mr. Hone had a fine presence with much elegance of manner, and
was truly one of nature's noblemen. Many years ago Arent Schuyler de
Peyster, to whom I am indebted for many traditions of early New York
society, told me that upon one occasion a conversation occurred between
Philip Hone and his brother John, a successful auctioneer, in which the
latter advocated their adoption of a coat of arms. Philip's response was
characteristic of the man: "I will have no arms except those Almighty
God has given me."

In this connection, and _apropos_ of heraldic designs and their
accompaniments, I have been informed that the Hon. Daniel Manning,
Cleveland's Secretary of the Treasury, used upon certain of his cards of
invitation a crest with the motto, "Aquila non capit muscas" ("The eagle
does not catch flies"). This brings to my mind the following anecdote
from a dictionary of quotations translated into English in 1826 by D. N.
McDonnel: "Casti, an Italian poet who fled from Russia on account of
having written a scurrilous poem in which he made severe animadversions
on the Czarina and some of her favorites, took refuge in Austria. Joseph
II. upon coming in contact with him asked him whether he was not afraid
of being punished there, as well as in Russia, for having insulted his
high friend and ally. The bard's steady reply was 'Aquila non capit
muscas.'" Sir Francis Bacon, however, was the first in the race, as long
before either Manning or Casti were born he made use of these exact
words in his "Jurisdiction of the Marshes."

In my early days John H. Contoit kept an ice cream garden on Broadway
near White Street, and it was the first establishment of this kind, as
far as I know, in New York. During the summer months it was a favorite
resort for many who sought a cool place and pleasant society, where they
might eat ice cream under shady vines and ornamental lattice work. The
ice cream was served in high glasses, and the price paid for it was
twelve and one-half cents. Nickles and dimes were of course unknown, but
the Mexican shilling, equivalent to twelve and one-half cents, and the
quarter of a dollar, also Mexican, were in circulation.

There were no such places as lunchrooms and tearooms in my early days,
and the only restaurant of respectability was George W. Browne's "eating
house," which was largely frequented by New Yorkers. The proprietor had
a very pretty daughter, Mrs. Coles, who was brought prominently before
the public in the summer of 1841 as the heroine of an altercation
between August Belmont and Edward Heyward, a prominent South Carolinian,
followed by a duel in Maryland in which Belmont is said to have been so
seriously wounded as to retain the scars until his death.

Alexander T. Stewart's store, corner of Broadway and Chambers Street,
was the fashionable dry goods emporium, and for many years was without a
conspicuous rival. William I. Tenney, Horace Hinsdale, Henry Gelston,
and Frederick and Henry G. Marquand were jewelers. Tenney's store was on
Broadway near Murray Street; Gelston's was under the Astor House on the
corner of Barclay Street and Broadway; Hinsdale's was on the east side
of Broadway and Cortlandt Street; and the Marquands were on the west
side of Broadway between Cortlandt and Dey Streets.

James Leary bore the palm in New York as the fashionable hatter, and his
shop was on Broadway under the Astor House. As was usual then with his
craft, he kept individual blocks for those of his customers who had
heads of unusual dimensions. In his show window he sometimes exhibited a
block of remarkable size which was adapted to fit the heads of a
distinguished trio, Daniel Webster, General James Watson Webb, and
Charles Augustus Davis. Miss Anna Leary of Newport, his daughter and a
devout Roman Catholic, received the title of Countess from the Pope.

The most prominent hostelry in New York before the days of the Astor
House was the City Hotel on lower Broadway. I have been informed that
the site upon which it stood still belongs to representatives of the
Boreel family, descendants of the first John Jacob Astor. Another, but
of a later period, was the American Hotel on Broadway near the Astor
House. It was originally the town house of John C. Vanden Heuvel, a
member of one of New York's most exclusive families. Upon Mr. Vanden
Heuvel's death this house passed into the possession of his son-in-law,
John C. Hamilton, who changed it into a hotel. Its proprietor was
William B. Cozzens, who was so long and favorably known as a hotel
proprietor. At this same time he had charge of the only hotel at West
Point, and it was named after him. If any army officers survive who were
cadets during Cozzens's _regime_ they will recall with pleasure his
kindly bearing and attractive manner. Mr. Vanden Heuvel's country
residence was in the vicinity of Ninetieth Street overlooking the Hudson
River. His other daughters were Susan Annette, who married Mr. Thomas S.
Gibbes of South Carolina, and Justine, who became the wife of Gouverneur
S. Bibby, a cousin of my husband.

As I first remember Union Square it was in the outskirts of the city.
Several handsome houses had a few years previously been erected there by
James F. Penniman, the son-in-law of Mr. Samuel Judd, the latter of whom
amassed a large fortune by the manufacture and sale of oil and candles.
Miss Lydia Kane, a sister of the elder De Lancey Kane and a noted wit of
the day, upon a certain occasion was showing some strangers the sights
of New York, and in passing these houses was asked by whom they were
occupied. "That one," she responded, indicating the one in which the
Pennimans themselves lived, "is occupied by one of the _illuminati_ of
the city."

Robert L. Stuart and his brother Alexander were proprietors of a large
candy store on the corner of Chambers and Greenwich Streets, under the
firm name of R. L. & A. Stuart. Their establishment was a favorite
resort of the children of the day, who were as much addicted to sweets
as are their more recent successors. "Broken candy" was a specialty of
this firm, and was sold at a very low price. Alexander Stuart frequently
waited upon customers, and as a child I have often chattered with him
over the counter. He never married.

The principal markets were Washington on the North River, and Fulton on
the east side. The marketing was always done by the mistress of each
house accompanied by a servant bearing a large basket. During the season
small girls carried strawberries from door to door, calling out as they
went along; and during the summer months hot corn, carried in closed
receptacles made for the purpose, was sold by <DW52> men, whose cries
could be heard in every part of the city.

Mrs. Isaac Sayre's bakery was an important shop for all housewives, and
her homemade jumbles and pound cake were in great demand. Her plum cake,
too, was exceptionally good, and it is an interesting fact that it was
she who introduced cake in boxes for weddings. Her shop survived for an
extraordinary number of years and, as far as I know, may still exist and
be kept by some of her descendants.

I must not omit to speak of a peculiar custom which in this day of
grace, when there are no longer any old women, seems rather odd. A
woman immediately after her marriage wore a cap made of some light
material, which she invariably tied with strings under her chin. Most
older women were horrified at the thought of gray hairs, and immediately
following their appearance false fronts were purchased, over which caps
were worn. I well recall that some of the most prominent women of the
day concealed fine heads of hair in this grotesque fashion. Baldheaded
men were not tolerated, and "scratches" or wigs provided the remedy.
Marriage announcements were decidedly informal. When the proper time
arrived for the world to be taken into the confidence of a young couple,
they walked upon Broadway arm in arm, thus announcing that their
marriage was imminent.

A dinner given in my young days by my parents to Mr. and Mrs. William C.
Rives still lingers in my memory. Mr. Rives had just been appointed to
his second mission to France, and with his wife was upon the eve of
sailing for his new post of duty. I remember that it was a large
entertainment, but the only guests whom I recall in addition to the
guests of honor were Mr. and Mrs. James A. Hamilton. He was a son of
Alexander Hamilton, and was at the time United States District Attorney
in New York. It seems strange, indeed, that the other guests should have
escaped my memory, but a head-dress worn by Mrs. Hamilton struck my
young fancy and I have never forgotten it. As I recall that occasion I
can see her handsome face surmounted by a huge fluffy pink cap. This Mr.
and Mrs. Hamilton were the parents of Alexander Hamilton, the third, who
married Angelica, daughter of Maturin Livingston, and who, by the way,
as I remember, was one of the most graceful dancers and noted belles of
her day.

Thomas Morris, son of Robert Morris the great financier of the
Revolution, was my father's life-long friend. He was an able
_raconteur_, and I recall many conversations relating to his early
life, a portion of which had been spent in Paris at its celebrated
Polytechnic School. One incident connected with his career is especially
interesting. When the sordid Louis Philippe, then the Duke of Orleans,
was wandering in this country, teaching in his native tongue "the young
idea how to shoot," he was the guest for a time of Mr. Morris. Several
years later when John Greig, a Scotchman and prominent citizen of
Canandaigua, New York, was about to sail for France, Mr. Morris gave him
a letter of introduction to the Duke. Upon his arrival in Havre after a
lengthy voyage he found much to his surprise that Louis Philippe was
comfortably seated upon the throne of France. Under these altered
conditions he hesitated to present his letter, but after mature
consideration sought an audience with the new King; and it is a pleasing
commentary upon human nature to add that he was welcomed with open arms.
The King had by no means forgotten the hospitality he had received in
America, and especially the many favors extended by the Morris family.
Mr. Morris's wife was Miss Sarah Kane, daughter of Colonel John Kane,
and she was beautiful even in her declining years. She also possessed
the wit so characteristic of the Kanes, who, by the way, were of Celtic
origin, being descended from John Kane who came from Ireland in 1752.
She was the aunt of the first De Lancey Kane, who married the pretty
Louisa Langdon, the granddaughter of John Jacob Astor. Their daughter,
Emily Morris, made frequent visits to our house. She was renowned for
both beauty and wit. I remember seeing several verses addressed to her,
the only lines of which I recall are as follows:

    That calm collected look,
    As though her pulses beat by book.

Another intimate friend of my father was Frederick de Peyster, who at a
later day became President of the New York Historical Society. He
habitually took Sunday tea with us, and always received a warm welcome
from the juvenile members of the family with whom he was a great
favorite. He was devoted to children, and delighted our young hearts by
occasional presents of game-chickens which at once became family pets.

In 1823 and 1824 my father's sympathies were deeply enlisted in behalf
of the Greeks in their struggles for independence from the Turkish rule.
It will be remembered that this was the cause to which Byron devoted his
last energies. The public sentiment of the whole country was aroused to
a high pitch of excitement, and meetings were held not only for the
purpose of lending moral support and encouragement to the Greeks, but
also for raising funds for their assistance. Among those to whom my
father appealed was his friend, Rudolph Bunner, a highly prominent
citizen of Oswego, N.Y. Although a lawyer he did not practice his
profession, but devoted himself chiefly to his extensive landed estates
in Oswego county. He was wealthy and generous, a good liver and an
eloquent political speaker. He served one term in Congress where, as
elsewhere, he was regarded as a man of decided ability. He died about
1833 at the age of nearly seventy. The distinguished New York lawyer,
John Duer, married his daughter Anne, by whom he had thirteen children,
one of whom, Anna Henrietta, married the late Pierre Paris Irving, a
nephew of Washington Irving and at one time rector of the Episcopal
church at New Brighton, Staten Island. Mr. Bunner's letter in response
to my father's appeal is not devoid of interest, and is as follows:

     OSWEGO, 12 Jan'y 1824.

     My dear Sir,

     Though I have not written to you yet you were not so soon
     forgotten. Nor can you so easily be erased from my memory as
     my negligence might seem to imply. In truth few persons
     have impressed my mind with a deeper sentiment of respect
     than yourself; you have that of open and frank in your
     character which if not in my own, is yet so congenial to my
     feelings that I shall much regret if my habitual indolence
     can lose me such a friend. Your request in favor of the
     Greeks will be hard to comply with. If I can be a
     contributor in a humble way to their success by my exertions
     here they shall not want them, but I fear the _angusta res
     domi_ may press too heavily upon us to permit of an
     effectual benevolence. If you wanted five hundred men six
     feet high with sinewy arms and case hardened constitutions,
     bold spirits and daring adventurers who would travel upon a
     bushel of corn and a gallon of whiskey per man from the
     extreme point of the world to Constantinople we could
     furnish you with them, but I doubt whether they could raise
     the money to pay their passage from the gut of Gibraltar
     upwards. The effort however shall be made and if we can not
     shew ourselves rich we will at least manifest our good will.
     Though Greece touches few Yankee settlers thro the medium of
     classical associations yet a people struggling to free
     themselves from foreign bondage is sure to find warm hearts
     in every native of the wilderness. We admire your noble
     efforts and if we do not imitate you it is because our
     purses are as empty as a Boetian's skull is thick. We know
     so little of what is _really_ projecting in the cabinets of
     Europe that we are obliged to believe implicitly in
     newspaper reports, and we are perhaps foolish in hoping that
     the Holy Alliance intends to take the Spanish part of the
     New World under their protection. In such an event our
     backwoodsmen would spring with the activity of squirrels to
     the assistance of the regenerated Spaniards and perhaps
     _there_ we might fight more effectually the battle for
     universal Freedom than either at Thermopylae or Marathon.
     There indeed we might strike a blow that would break up the
     deep foundations of despotic power so as that neither art or
     force could again collect and cement the scattered elements.
     We are too distant from Greece to make the Turks feel our
     physical strength and what we can do thro money and
     sympathy is little in comparison with what we could if they
     were so near as that we might in addition pour out the tide
     of an armed northern population to sweep their shores and
     overcome the tyrants like one of their pestilential winds.
     Nevertheless, sympathy is a wonderful power and the sympathy
     of a free nation like our own will not lose its moral
     effect. I calculate strongly on this. It is a more refined
     and rational kind of chivalry--this interest and activity in
     the fate of nations struggling to break the oppressor's rod,
     and it should be encouraged even where it is not directed so
     as to give it all adequate force. They who would chill it,
     who would reason about the why and the wherefore ought to
     recollect that such things can not be called forth by the
     art of man--they must burst spontaneously from his nature
     and be directed by his wisdom for the benefit of his
     kind.... We are all here real Radical Democrats and though
     some of us came in at the eleventh hour we will not go back,
     but on--on--on though certain of missing the penny fee. In
     truth this is the difference between real conviction and the
     calculating policy which takes sides according to what it
     conceives the vantage ground. A converted politician is as
     obstinate in his belief as one born in the faith. The man of
     craft changes his position according to the varying aspect
     of the political heavens. The one plays a game--the other
     sees as much of reality (or thinks he sees) in politicks as
     he does in his domestic affairs and is as earnest in the one
     as the other.

          Salve--[Greek: Kai Chaire]

               R. BUNNER.


     8 o'clock.

     I have had a full meeting for your Greeks--and found my men
     of more mettle than I hoped for. We will do something thro
     the _Country_--We have set the Parsons to work and one
     shilling a head will make a good donation. We think we can
     give you 4 or 5 hundred dollars.

Mr. Bunner was over sixty years old when he went to live in Oswego, but
he soon became identified with the interests of the place and added much
by his activities to its local renown. In an undated letter to my
father, he thus expatiates upon his situation in his adopted home, and
paints its advantages in no uncertain colors:--

     I am here unquestionably an exile but I will never dispond
     at my fate nor whimper because my own folly, want of tact or
     the very malice of the times have placed me in Patmos when I
     desire a more splendid theatre. I can here be useful to my
     family--to my district. I can live cheaply, increase my
     fortune, be upon a par with the best of my neighbors, which
     I prefer to the feasts of your ostentatious mayor or the
     more real luxury of Phil Brasher's Table. Our population is
     small, our society contracted, but we are growing rapidly in
     numbers; and the society we have is in my opinion and to my
     taste fully equal to anything in your home. We possess men
     of intelligence without pretention, active men as Jacob
     Barker without his roguery--men whom nature intended to
     flourish at St. James, but whose fate fortune in some fit of
     prolifick humor fixed and nailed to this Sinope. We have
     however to mitigate the cold spring breezes of the lake a
     fall unrivalled in mildness and in beauty even in Italy, the
     land of poetry and passion. We have a whole lake in front,
     whose clear blue waters are without a parallel in Europe. We
     have a beautiful river brawling at our feet, the banks of
     which gently <DW72> and when our village is filled I will
     venture to say that in point of beauty, health and variety
     of prospect it has _nil simile aut secundum_.

Our house was the rendezvous of many of the learned and literary men of
the day, who would sit for hours in the library discussing congenial
topics. Among others I well recall the celebrated jurist, Ogden Hoffman.
He had an exceptionally melodious voice, and I have often heard him
called "the silver-tongued orator." It has been asserted that in
criminal cases a jury was rarely known to withstand his appeal. He
married for his second wife Virginia E. Southard, a daughter of Judge
Samuel L. Southard of New Jersey, who throughout Monroe's two
administrations was Secretary of War. In the "Wealthy Citizens of New
York," edited in 1845 by Moses Y. Beach, an early owner in part of _The
New York Sun_, the Hoffman family is thus described: "Few families, for
so few a number of persons as compose it, have cut 'a larger swath' or
'bigger figure' in the way of posts and preferment. Talent, and also
public service rendered, martial gallantry, poetry, judicial acumen,
oratory, all have their lustre mingled with this name." I regard this
statement as just and truthful.

Still another valued associate of my father was Hugh Maxwell, a
prominent member of the New York bar. In his earlier life he was
District Attorney and later Collector of the Port of New York. The
Maxwells owned a pleasant summer residence at Nyack-on-the-Hudson, where
we as children made occasional visits. Many years later one of my
daughters formed an intimate friendship with Hugh Maxwell's
granddaughter, Virginia De Lancey Kearny, subsequently Mrs. Ridgely
Hunt, which terminated only with the latter's death in 1897.

From my earliest childhood Gulian C. Verplanck was a frequent guest at
our house. He and my father formed an intimacy in early manhood which
lasted throughout life. Mr. Verplanck was graduated from Columbia
College in 1801, the youngest Bachelor of Arts who, up to that time, had
received a diploma from that institution of learning. Both he and my
father found in politics an all-absorbing topic of conversation,
especially as both of them took an active part in state affairs. I have
many letters, one of them written as early as 1822, from Mr. Verplanck
to my father bearing upon political matters in New York. For four terms
he represented his district in Congress, while later he served in the
State Senate and for many years was Vice Chancellor of the University of
the State of New York. He was an ardent Episcopalian and a vestryman in
old Trinity Parish. He was a brilliant conversationalist, and his
tastes, like my father's, were decidedly literary. In connection with
William Cullen Bryant and Robert C. Sands, he edited _The Talisman_, an
annual which continued through the year 1827. Mr. Verplanck lived to an
old age and survived my father for a long time, but he did not forget
his old friend. Almost a score of years after my father's death, on the
4th of July, 1867, Mr. Verplanck delivered a scholarly oration before
the Tammany Society of New York, in which he paid the following glowing
tribute to his memory:

     In those days James Campbell, for many years the Surrogate
     of this city, was a powerful leader at Tammany Hall, and
     from character and mind alone, without any effort or any act
     of popularity. He was not college-bred, but he was the son
     of a learned father, old Malcolm Campbell, who had been
     trained at Aberdeen, the great school of Scotch Latinity.
     James Campbell was, like his father, a good classical
     scholar, and he was a sound lawyer. He was not only an
     assiduous, a kind, sound and just magistrate, but one of
     unquestioned ability. In his days of Surrogateship, the days
     of universal reporting, either in the multitudinous volumes
     in white law bindings on the shelves of lawyers, or in the
     crowded columns of the daily papers, had not quite arrived
     though they were just at hand. Had he lived and held office
     a few years later, I do not doubt that he would have ranked
     with the great luminaries of legal science. As it is, I fear
     that James Campbell's reputation must share the fate of the
     reputations of many able and eminent men in all professions
     who can not

                        Look to Time's award,
    Feeble tradition is their memory's guard.

The most prominent newspaper in New York in my early days was the
_Courier and Enquirer_, edited by General James Watson Webb, a man of
distinguished ability. He began his literary career by editing the
_Morning Courier_, but as this was not a very successful venture he
purchased the _New York Enquirer_ from Mordecai Manasseh Noah, and in
1829 merged the two papers. Several leading journalists began their
active careers in his office, among others James Gordon Bennett,
subsequently editor of _The New York Herald_, Henry J. Raymond, the
founder of _The New York Times_, and Charles King, father of Madam Kate
King Waddington and Mrs. Eugene Schuyler, who at one time edited _The
American_ and subsequently became the honored president of Columbia
College. James Reed Spaulding, a New Englander by birth, was also
connected with the _Courier and Enquirer_ for about ten years. In 1860
he became a member of the staff of the New York _World_, which, by the
way, was originally intended to be a semi-religious sheet. During
President Lincoln's administration General Webb sold the _Courier and
Enquirer_ to the _World_, and the two papers were consolidated. William
Seward Webb of New York was a son of this General Webb, and the latter's
daughter, Mrs. Catharine Louisa Benton, the widow of Colonel James G.
Benton of the army, lived until recently in Washington, and is one of
the pleasant reminders left me of the old days of my New York life.

_The New York Herald_ was established some years after the _Courier and
Enquirer_ and was from the first a flourishing sheet. It was
exceptionally spicy, and it dealt so much in personalities that my
father, who was a gentleman of the old school with very conservative
views, was not, to say the least, one of its strongest admirers. Several
years before the Civil War, at a time when the anti-slavery cauldron was
at its boiling point, its editor, the elder James Gordon Bennett,
dubbed its three journalistic contemporaries in New York, the World, the
Flesh, and the Devil--the _World_, representing human life with all its
pomps and vanities; the _Times_, as a sheet as vacillating as the flesh;
and the _Tribune_, as the virulent champion of abolition, the
counterpart of the Devil himself.

During the winter of 1842 James Gordon Bennett took his bride, who was
Miss Henrietta Agnes Crean of New York, to Washington on their wedding
journey. As this season had been unusually severe, great distress
prevailed, and a number of society women organized a charity ball for
the relief of the destitute. It was given under the patronage of Mrs.
Madison (the ex-President's widow), Mrs. Samuel L. Gouverneur (my
husband's mother), Mrs. Benjamin Ogle Tayloe (Julia Maria Dickinson of
Troy, New York), and other society matrons, and, as can readily be
understood, was a financial as well as a social success. Tickets were
eagerly sought, and Mr. Bennett applied for them for his wife and
himself. At first he was refused, but after further consideration Mrs.
Madison and Mrs. Gouverneur of the committee upon invitations granted
his request on condition that no mention of the ball should appear in
the columns of the _Herald_. Mr. Bennett and his wife accordingly
attended the entertainment, where the latter was much admired and danced
to her heart's content. Two days later, however, much to the chagrin and
indignation of the managers, an extended account of the ball appeared in
the _Herald_. This incident will be better appreciated when I state that
at this time the personal mention of a woman in a newspaper was an
unheard-of liberty. It was the old-fashioned idea that a woman's name
should occur but twice in print, first upon the occasion of her marriage
and subsequently upon the announcement of her death. My husband once
remarked to me, upon reading a description of a dress worn by one of my
daughters at a ball, that if such a notice had appeared in a newspaper
in connection with his sister he or his father would have thrashed the
editor.

John L. O'Sullivan, a prominent literary man and in subsequent years
minister to Portugal, edited a periodical called the _Democratic
Review_, which was published in magazine form. I well recall the first
appearance of _Harper's Magazine_ in June, 1850, and that for some time
it had but few illustrations. _The Evening_ Post was established in
1801, many years prior to the _Courier and Enquirer_. It was always
widely read, was democratic in its tone, and its editorials were highly
regarded. While I lived in New York, and also much later, it was edited
by William Cullen Bryant, who was as gifted as an editor as he was as a
poet. I have before me now a reprint of the first issue of this paper,
dated Monday, November 16, 1801. I copy some of the advertisements, as
many old New York names are represented:

            FOR SALE BY HOFFMAN & SETON

     Twelve hhds. assorted Glass Ware.
     2 boxes Listadoes,
     1 trunk white Kid Gloves,
     200 boxes Soap & Candles,
     60 bales Cinnamon, entitled to drawback.
     Nov. 16.

       *       *       *       *       *

                    FREIGHT

     For Copenhagen or Hamburgh,
     The bark BERKKESKOW, Capt.
     Gubriel Tothammer, is ready to receive
     freight for either of the above places, if application
     is made to the Captain on board, at Gouverneur's
     Wharf.

                GOUVERNEUR & KEMBLE.

       *       *       *       *       *

                    FOR SALE

     Gin in pipes; large and small green Bottle
     Cases, complete; Glass Ware, consisting of
     Tumblers, Decanters, &c.; Hair Brushes, long and
     short; black and blue Dutch Cloth; Flour, by

                FREDERICK DE PEYSTER.

     A STORE HOUSE in Broad-street to let, apply
     as above.            Nov. 16.

       *       *       *       *       *

     THE SUBSCRIBER has for sale, remaining from
     the cargo of the ship Sarson, from Calcutta,
     an assortment of WHITE PIECE GOODS.

     Also

     50 tierces Rice,          60 hhds. Jamaica Rum,
     15 bales Sea-Island       10,000 Pieces White
     Cotton,                   Nankeens,
     29 tierces and 34 bls.    A quantity of Large
     Jamaica Coffee,           Bottles in cases,
                               And as usual, Old
     Madeira Wine, fit for immediate use.

                                        ROBERT LENOX.

FOOTNOTES:

[2] Possibly this word is "Election."




CHAPTER III

SCHOOL-DAYS AND EARLY FRIENDS


I must return to my school days. After several years spent at Miss
Forbes's my parents decided to afford me greater advantages for study,
and especially for becoming more proficient in the French language, and
I was accordingly sent to Madame Eloise Chegaray's institution, which
for many years was regarded as the most prominent girls' school in the
country. It was a large establishment located on the corner of Houston
and Mulberry Streets, where she accommodated boarding pupils as well as
day scholars. Many years later this building was sold to the religious
order of the _Sacre Coeur_. The school hours were from nine until three,
with an intermission at twelve o'clock. The vacation, as at Miss
Forbes's, was limited to the month of August. The discipline was not so
rigid as at Miss Forbes's, as Madame Chegaray, who, by the way, taught
her pupils to address her as _Tante_, governed almost entirely by
affection. She possessed unusual grace of manner and great kindness of
heart, and her few surviving pupils hold her name and memory in the
highest esteem. Her early history is of exceptional interest. She was a
daughter of Pierre Prosper Desabaye, and came with her father and the
other members of his family from Paris to New York on account of his
straitened circumstances, caused by an insurrection in San Domingo,
where his family owned large estates. Madame Chegaray commenced as a
mere girl to teach French in a school in New Brunswick, New Jersey, kept
by Miss Sophie Hay, and was retained on account of the extreme purity of
her accent.

I chance to have in my possession Madame Chegaray's own account of her
early struggles after leaving Miss Hay, from which I take great pleasure
in quoting:

     Among the royal _emigres_ to this country was the Countess
     de St. Memin who kept a school. As my brother Marc had
     removed to New York we joined him and I was employed as
     French governess in the school of Mademoiselle de St. Memin.
     But I still knew nothing but to speak my own native tongue.
     One day I was bewailing my ignorance in the presence of M.
     Felix de Beaujour, Consul General of France to this country.

     "Mlle. Eloise," he said, "quand on sait lire on peut
     toujours s'istruire."

     This gave me a new thought. I set seriously about studying.
     I took classes. What I was to teach on the morrow I studied
     the night before. I worked early and late. With the return
     of Louis Philippe the St. Memins returned to France and I
     became a teacher in the school of Madame Nau. Here I studied
     and taught. On me fell all the burden of the school while
     Madame Nau amused herself with harp and piano. For this I
     had only $150 a year. To further assist my family I knit
     woolen jackets. They were a great deal of trouble to me and
     I was very grateful to Madame Isaac Iselin, the mother of
     Mr. Adrain Iselin, who always found purchasers to give me
     excellent prices. Ah, I was young then. I thought that I
     earned that money. Now I know that it was only her delicate
     manner of doing me a service. Madame Iselin bought my
     jackets and then gave them away.

     Feeling that I was worth much to Madame Nau, and that I must
     do more to relieve my brother Marc, my brother Gustave
     having gone to sea with Captain de Peyster, I begged Madame
     Nau to give me $250. This she refused. Her reply, "Me navra
     le coeur," overwhelmed me. It was Saturday. I started home
     in great distress and met on the way the dear admirable Miss
     Sophy Hay to whom I told my sorrow.

     "Miss Hay," I exclaimed, "I will open a school for myself."
     She tapped me on the forehead. "Do, dear Eloise, and God
     will help you."

     How all difficulties were smoothed away! The dear Madame
     Iselin took charge of all my purchases, advancing the money.
     They were very simple, those splint chairs and carpets and
     tables, for we were simpler-minded then. On the 1st of May
     1814 I opened my school on Greenwich Street with sixteen
     pupils. Good M. Roulet gave me his two wards. I received
     several scholars from a convent just closed and I had my
     nieces Ameline and Laura Berault de St. Maurice and Clara
     the daughter of Marc [Desabaye], who afterward married Ponty
     Lemoine, the lawyer in whose office Charles O'Conor studied.
     Thus was my school started, and I take this occasion to
     express my gratitude to those who confided in so young an
     instructress--for I was only twenty-two--the education of
     their daughters, and I pray God to bless them and their
     country....

Many well-known women were educated at this school, and one of the first
pupils was Miss Sarah Morris, the granddaughter of Lewis Morris, the
Signer, and the mother of the senior Mrs. Hamilton Fish. A younger
sister of Mrs. Fish, Christine, who many years later was a pupil of
Madame Chegaray, and who is now Mrs. William Preston Griffin of New
York, ministered to Madame Chegaray in her last illness, and told me
that her parting words to her were, "_Adieu, chere Christine, fidele
amie._" In spite of her extreme youth Madame Chegaray took an
exceptionally serious view of life, even refusing to wear flowers in her
bonnets or to sing, although she had a very sweet voice. She dearly
loved France, but she was a broad-minded woman and her knowledge of
American affairs was as great as that of her own country. She rounded
out nearly a century of life, the greater part of which was devoted to
others, and I pay her the highest tribute in my power when I say that
she faced the many vicissitudes of life with an undaunted spirit, and
bequeathed to her numerous pupils the inestimable boon of a wonderful
example.

All the teachers in Madame Chegaray's school were men, with the single
exception of Mrs. Joseph McKee, the wife of a Presbyterian clergyman.
Among those who taught were John Bigelow, who is still living in New
York at an advanced age, and who in subsequent years was Secretary of
State of New York and our Minister to France; Thatcher T. Payne; Edward
G. Andrew, who became in the course of years a Bishop in the Methodist
Church; Professor Robert Adrain, who taught mathematics, and who at the
same time was one of the faculty of Columbia College; and Lorenzo L. da
Ponte. The latter was a man of unusual versatility, and was especially
distinguished as a linguist. He taught us English literature in such a
successful manner that we regarded that study merely as a recreation.
Mr. da Ponte was a son of Lorenzo da Ponte, a Venitian of great
learning, who after coming to this country rendered such conspicuous
services in connection with Dominick Lynch in establishing Italian opera
in New York. He was also a professor of Italian for many years in
Columbia College, the author of a book of sonnets, several works
relating to the Italian language and of his own life, which was
published in three volumes. Mr. Samuel Ward, a noted character of the
day, the brother of Mrs. Julia Ward Howe and who married Emily Astor,
daughter of William B. Astor, wrote an interesting memoir of him. Madame
Chegaray taught the highest classes in French. "If I had to give up all
books but two," she was fond of saying, "I would choose the Gospels and
La Fontaine's Fables. In one you have everything necessary for your
spiritual life; in the other you have the epitome of all worldly
wisdom."

When I entered Madame Chegaray's school she had about a hundred pupils,
a large number of whom were from the Southern States. How well I
remember the extreme loyalty of the Southern girls to their native soil!
I can close my eyes and read the opening sentence of a composition
written by one of my comrades, Elodie Toutant, a sister of General
Pierre G. T. Beauregard of the Confederate Army--"The South, the South,
the beautiful South, the garden spot of the United States." This
chivalric devotion to the soil whence they sprang apparently was
literally breathed into my Southern school companions from the very
beginning of their lives. Their loyalty possessed a fascination for me,
and although I was born, reared and educated in a Northern State, I had
a tender feeling for the South, which still lingers with me, for most of
the friendships I formed at Madame Chegaray's were with Southern girls.

My first day at Madame Chegaray's, like many other beginnings, was
something of an ordeal, but it was my good fortune to meet almost
immediately Henrietta Croom, a daughter of Henry B. Croom, a celebrated
botanist of North Carolina, but who, with his family, had spent much of
his life in Tallahassee. Many are the pleasant hours we spent together,
but to my sorrow she graduated at an early age, and a few months later
embarked, in company with her parents, a younger brother and sister and
an aunt, Mrs. Cammack, upon a vessel called the _Home_ for Charleston,
South Carolina, where they had planned to make their future residence.
When they had been several days at sea their vessel encountered a severe
storm off Cape Hatteras, and after a brave struggle with the terrific
elements every member of the family sank with the ship within a few
miles of the spot where the Crooms had formerly lived. This occurred on
the 9th of October, 1836. They had as fellow voyagers a brother of
Madame Chegaray, who, with his wife and three children, had only just
left the school to make the voyage to Charleston. They, too, lost their
lives. Over Madame Chegaray's school as well as her household at once
hung a pall, and gloom and mourning prevailed on every side; indeed, the
whole city of New York shared in our sorrow. The newspapers of the day
were filled with accounts of this direful disaster, but there were few
survivors to tell the tale. My late playmate, Henrietta Croom, was one
of the most popular girls at school, possessing great attractions of
both mind and person, and, although at the time she was merely a child
in years, the New Year's address of a prominent daily newspaper of the
day contained an extended reference to her which strongly appealed to my
grief-stricken fancy. Though more than sixty years have passed I have
always preserved it with great care in memory of the "sweet damsel" of
long ago. The following are the lines to which I have just referred:

    Dear Home! what magic trembles in the word;
    Each bosom's fountain at its sound is stirred,
    Disgusted worldlings dream of early love
    And weary Christians turn their eyes above--
    Well was't thou nam'd, fair bark, whose recent doom
    Has many a household wrapt in deepest gloom!
    On earth no more those voyagers' steps shall roam
    That cast their anchor at an Heavenly "Home"!
    High beat their hearts, when first their fated prow
    Cut through the surge that boils above them now,
    They saw in vision rapt their fatherland
    And felt once more its odorous breezes bland--
    The frozen North receded from their sight
    And fancy's dream entranced them with delight--
    Oh! who can tell what pangs their soul assail'd
    When every hope of life and rescue fail'd,
    When wild despair their throbbing bosoms wrung
    And winds and waves a doleful requiem sung?
    There stood the husband whose protecting arm
    'Till now had kept his lov'd ones safe from harm.
    Remorseless grown, the demon of the storm
    Swept from his grasp her trembling, fragile form.
    Vague fear o'er children's lineaments convuls'd,
    But selfish hands their frenzied cling repuls'd.
    When death's grim aspect meets the startl'd view
    To grovelling souls fair mercy bids adieu!
    And thou, sweet damsel! who in girlhood's bloom
    Descended then to fill an ocean tomb--
    What were _thy_ thoughts, when roaring for their prey
    The foaming billows choked the watery way!
    'Tis said that souls have giv'n in parting hour
    A vast and fearful and mysterious power.
    A chart pictorial of the past is made,
    In which minute events are all portray'd--
    One painful glance the scroll entire surveys
    And then in death the blasted eye-balls glaze--
    Perchance at that dark moment when the maid
    On life's dim verge her coming doom survey'd,
    Such vision flash'd across her spirit pure,
    And help'd the youthful beauty to endure.
    Her infant sports beneath the spreading lime,
    Her recent school-days, in a northern clime--
    Her gentle deeds--her treasur'd thoughts of love--
    All plum'd her pinions for a flight above!

The Croom family owned large plantations in the South together with many
slaves. A short time after it was definitely known that not a member of
the family had survived, there was a legal contest over the estate by
the representatives of both sides of the household, the Crooms and the
Armisteads. Eminent members of the Southern bar were employed, among
whom were Judge John McPherson Berrien of Savannah and Joseph M. White
of Florida, often called "Florida White." After about twenty years of
litigation the suit was decided in favor of the Armisteads. It seems
that as young Croom, a lad of twelve, nearly reached the shore he was
regarded as the survivor, and his grandmother, Mrs. Henrietta Smith of
Newbern, North Carolina, his nearest living relative, became his heir. I
have always understood that this hotly contested case has since been
regarded as a judicial precedent.

A few days after receiving the news of the shipwreck of the _Home_, I
found by accident in my father's library an _edition de luxe_, just
published in London, of "Les Dames de Byron." In it was an illustration
entitled "Leila," which bore a wonderful resemblance to my best friend,
Henrietta Croom. Beneath were the following lines, which seemed to
suggest her history, and the coincidence was so apparent that I
immediately committed them to memory, and it is from memory that I now
give them:

    She sleeps beneath the wandering wave;
    Ah! had she but an earthly grave
    This aching heart and throbbing breast
    Would seek and share her narrow rest.
    She was a form of life and light
    That soon became a part of sight,
    And rose where'er I turned mine eye--
    The morning-star of memory.

Another schoolmate and friend of mine at Madame Chegaray's was Josephine
Habersham of Savannah, a daughter of Joseph Habersham and a
great-granddaughter of General Joseph Habersham, who succeeded Timothy
Pickering as Postmaster General during Washington's second term and
retained the position under Adams and Jefferson until the latter part of
1801. She was one of Madame Chegaray's star pupils in music. She
frequently made visits to my home, remaining over Saturday and Sunday,
and delighted the family by playing in a most masterly manner the
Italian music then in vogue. A few years after her return to her
Southern home she married her cousin, William Neyle Habersham, an
accomplished musician. For many years they lived in Savannah in the
greatest elegance, until the Civil War came to disturb their tranquil
dreams. Two young sons, both under twenty-one, laid down their lives for
the Southern cause during that conflict. After their great sorrow music
was their chief solace, and they delighted their friends by playing
together on various musical instruments.

New Orleans was represented at our school by a famous beauty, Catharine
Alexander Chew, a daughter of Beverly Chew, the Collector of the Port of
New Orleans, and whose wife, Miss Maria Theodosia Duer, was a sister of
President William Alexander Duer of Columbia College. He and Richard
Relf, cashier of the Louisiana State Bank, were the business partners
and subsequently the executors of the will of Daniel Clark of the same
city, and it was against them that the latter's daughter, Myra Clark
Gaines, the widow of General Edmund Pendleton Gaines, U.S.A., fought her
famous legal battles for over half a century. Miss Chew married Judge
Thomas H. Kennedy of New Orleans and left many descendants. The sister
of General Pierre G. T. Beauregard, Elodie Toutant, whom I have already
mentioned, was also from Louisiana. She was a studious girl, and a most
attractive companion. The original family name was Toutant, but towards
the close of the sixteenth century the last male descendant of the
family died, and an only surviving daughter having married Sieur Paix de
Beauregard, the name became Toutant de Beauregard, the prefix _de_
having subsequently been dropped.

Still another friendship I formed at Madame Chegaray's school was with
Elizabeth Clarkson Jay, which through life was a source of intense
pleasure to me and lasted until her pure and gentle spirit returned to
its Maker. She was the daughter of Peter Augustus Jay, a highly
respected lawyer, and a granddaughter of the distinguished statesman,
John Jay. She was a deeply religious woman, and died a few years ago in
New York after a life consecrated to good works.

One of the brightest girls in my class was Sarah Jones, a daughter of
one of New York's most distinguished jurists, Chancellor Samuel Jones.
She and another schoolmate of mine, Maria Brandegee, who lived in LeRoy
Place, were intimate and inseparable companions. The mother of the
latter belonged to a Creole family from New Orleans, named Deslonde, and
was the aunt of the wife of John Slidell of Confederate fame. The
Brandegees were devout Roman Catholics, while the members of the Jones
family were equally ardent Episcopalians. Archbishop Hughes of New York
was a welcome and frequent visitor at the Brandegee house, where, in my
younger days, I frequently had the pleasure of meeting him and listening
to his attractive conversation. In this manner Sarah Jones also came
into contact with him. Deeply impressed by his teachings, she followed
him to the Cathedral, where she soon became a regular attendant. In the
course of time she became a member of the Roman Catholic Church, and a
few years later entered the order of the _Sacre Coeur_, at
Manhattanville, where she eventually became Mother Superior and remained
as such for many years.

Quite a number of years ago I was the guest of the family of Charles
O'Conor, the distinguished jurist and leader of the New York bar, at his
handsome home at Fort Washington, a suburb of New York. He was the son
of the venerable Thomas O'Conor, editor of _The Shamrock_, the first
paper published in New York for Irish and Catholic readers, and also the
author of a history of the second war with Great Britain. One afternoon
Mr. O'Conor suggested that I should accompany him upon a drive to the
Convent of the _Sacre Coeur_ a few miles distant. He was anxious to
confer with Madame Mary Aloysia Hardey, who was then Mother Superior. I
was delighted to accept this invitation, as Mr. O'Conor was an
exceptionally agreeable companion and his spare moments were but few and
far between. Before reaching our destination, I remarked that Madame
Jones, an old schoolmate of mine, was an inmate of this Convent, and
that I should be very glad to see her again. Upon our arrival, Sarah
Jones greeted me in the parlor and seemed glad to see me after the lapse
of so many years. Leading as she was the life of a _religieuse_, our
topics of conversation were few, but I noticed that she seemed
interested in discussing her own family, about whom evidently she was
not well informed. After a brief visit and while homeward bound, Mr.
O'Conor inquired whether Madame Jones knew that her father, the
Chancellor, was rapidly approaching death. I replied that apparently she
had no knowledge of his serious condition, and several days later I saw
his death announced in a daily newspaper. Many years after my interview
with Sarah Jones I met at the residence of Mrs. Henry R. Winthrop of New
York an older sister of hers, Mary Anna Schuyler Jones, who at the time
was the widow of the Reverend Dr. Samuel Seabury of the Episcopal
Church. We lunched together, and the conversation naturally drifted back
to other days and to my old schoolmate, her sister, Sarah Jones. She
told me that she had seen but little of her in recent years, but related
a curious episode in regard to meeting her under unusual circumstances.
It seems that Mrs. Seabury, accompanied by a young daughter, was
returning from a visit to Europe, when she noticed that the occupants of
the adjoining state-room were unusually quiet. In time she made the
discovery that they were nuns returning from a business trip abroad.
Upon examination of the passenger list, she discovered to her
astonishment that her sister, Madame Jones, was occupying the adjoining
room. They met daily thereafter throughout the voyage, and afterwards
returned to their respective homes.

I especially remember an incident of my school-life which was decidedly
sensational. Sally Otis, a young and pretty girl and a daughter of James
W. Otis, then of New York but formerly of Boston, was in the same class
with me. One morning we missed her from her accustomed seat, but during
the day we learned the cause of her absence. The whole Otis family had
been taken ill by drinking poisoned coffee. Upon investigation the cook
reported that a package of coffee had been sent to the house, and,
taking it for granted that it had been ordered by some member of the
household, she had used it for breakfast. The whole matter was shrouded
in mystery, and gossip was rife. One story was that a vindictive woman
concentrated all of her malice upon a single member of the family
against whom she had a grievance and thus endangered the lives of the
whole Otis family. Fortunately, none of the cases proved fatal, but
several inmates of the house became seriously ill.

A few years before I entered Madame Chegaray's school, Virginia Scott,
the oldest daughter of Major General Winfield Scott, enjoyed _Tante's_
tutelage for a number of years. She was a rare combination of genius and
beauty, and, apart from her remarkable personality, was a skilled
linguist and an accomplished vocal and instrumental musician. This
unusual combination of gifts suggests the Spanish saying: "Mira
favorecida de Dios" ("Behold one favored of God!"). Her life, however,
was brief, though deeply interesting. In the first blush of womanhood
she accompanied her mother and sisters to Europe, and, after several
years spent in Paris, made a visit to Rome, where she immediately became
imbued with profound religious convictions. Through the instrumentality
of Father Pierce Connelly, a convert to Catholicism, she was received
into the Roman Catholic Church while in the Holy City, and made her
profession of faith in the Chapel of St. Ignatius, where the ceremony
took place by the special permission of the Most Rev. John Roothan,
General of the Jesuits. General Scott meanwhile had returned to the
United States, having been promoted to the rank of Commander-in-Chief of
the Army with headquarters in Washington. Accompanied by her mother,
Virginia Scott returned to America and, after a short time spent with
her parents in Washington, drove to Georgetown and, without their
knowledge or consent, was received there as an inmate of the "Convent of
the Visitation." Her family was bitterly opposed to the step, more
especially her mother, whose indignation was so pronounced that she
never to the day of her death forgave the Church for depriving her of
her daughter's companionship. General Scott, however, frequently visited
her in her cloistered home, and always manifested much consideration for
the Convent as well as for the nuns, the daily companions of his
daughter. Although she possessed a proud and imperious nature, combined
with great personal beauty and much natural _hauteur_, she soon became
as gentle as a lamb. She died about a year after entering the Convent,
but she retained her deep religious convictions to the last. She is
buried beneath the sanctuary in the chapel of the Georgetown Convent. In
connection with her a few lines often come to my mind which seem so
appropriate that I can not deny myself the pleasure of quoting them:

    She was so fair that in the Angelic choir,
    She will not need put on another shape
    Than that she bore on earth.

I have heard it stated that during Virginia Scott's residence in Paris
there existed a deep attachment between herself and a young gentleman of
foreign birth. The story goes that in the course of time he became as
devoted to his religion as he had hitherto been to the beautiful
American, and that it was agreed between them that they should both
consecrate themselves thereafter to the service of God. He accordingly
entered at once upon a religious life. I have heard that they afterwards
met at a service before the altar, but that there was no recognition. As
intimate as I became with the members of the Scott family in subsequent
years, I never heard any allusion to this incident in their family
history, and I can readily understand that it was a subject upon which
they were too sensitive to dwell.

Father Connelly, whom I have mentioned in connection with Miss Scott's
conversion, began his career as an Episcopal clergyman. There was a
barrier to his becoming a Roman Catholic priest, as he was married; but
his wife soon shared in his religious ardor, and when he entered the
priesthood she became a nun. He lacked stability, however, in his
religious views, and was subsequently received again into the Episcopal
Church. It was his desire that his wife should at once join him but she
refused to leave the Convent, and she finally became the founder of the
Order of the "Sisters of the Holy Child." I have heard that he took
legal measures to obtain possession of her, but if so he was
unsuccessful in his efforts.

Another one of Madame Chegaray's distinguished pupils was Martha Pierce
of Louisville. As she attended this school some years before I entered,
I knew of her in these days only by reputation. But some years later I
had the pleasure of knowing her quite intimately, when she talked very
freely with me in regard to her eventful life. She told me that upon a
certain occasion in the days when women rarely traveled alone she was
returning to Kentucky under the care of Henry Clay, and stopped in
Washington long enough to visit the Capitol. Upon its steps she was
introduced to Robert Craig Stanard of Richmond, upon whom she apparently
made a deep impression, for one year later the handsome young Southerner
carried the Kentucky girl, at the age of sixteen, back to Virginia as
his bride. During her long life in Richmond her home, now the
Westmoreland Club, was a notable _salon_, where the _beaux esprits_ of
the South gathered. She survived Mr. Stanard many years. Beautiful, even
in old age, gifted and cultivated, her attractions of face and intellect
paled before her inexpressible charm of manner. She traveled much abroad
and especially in England. A prominent Kentuckian once told me that he
heard Washington Irving say that Mrs. Stanard received more attention
and admiration in the highest circles of English society than any other
American woman he had ever known. She corresponded for many years with
Thackeray, the Duke of Wellington and many other prominent Englishmen,
and in her own country was equally distinguished. In the course of one
of our numerous conversations she told me that after the death of Edward
Everett she loaned his biographer the letters she had received from that
distinguished orator. During the latter part of her life she gave up her
house in Richmond and came to Washington to reside, where she remained
until the end of her life. She left no descendants. Her husband's
mother, Jane Stith Craig, daughter of Adam Craig of Richmond, was
immortalized by Edgar Allan Poe, who, fictitiously naming her "Helen,"
paid feeling tribute to her charms in those beautiful verses commencing:

    Helen, thy beauty is to me
      Like those Nicean barks of yore,
    That gently, o'er a perfumed sea,
      The weary, way-worn wanderer bore
      To his own native shore.

Among my other schoolmates at Madame Chegaray's were Susan Maria
Clarkson de Peyster, a daughter of James Ferguson de Peyster, who
subsequently married Robert Edward Livingston; Margaret Masters, a
daughter of Judge Josiah Masters of Troy, New York, and the wife of John
W. King; Virginia Beverly Wood, a daughter of Silas Wood of New York,
who became the wife of John Leverett Rogers; and Elizabeth MacNiel,
daughter of General John MacNiel of the Army and wife of General Henry
W. Benham of the U.S. Engineer Corps.

After a number of years spent in teaching, Madame Chegaray gave up her
New York school and moved to Madison, New Jersey (at one time called
Bottle Hill), with the intention of spending the remainder of her life
in retirement; but she was doomed to disappointment. Discovering almost
immediately that through a relative her affairs had become deeply
involved, she with undaunted courage at once opened a school in Madison
in the house which she had purchased with the view of spending there the
declining years of her life. Previous to this time I had been one of her
day scholars; I entered the second school as a boarding pupil. Once a
week we were driven three miles to Morristown to attend church. I recall
an amusing incident connected with this weekly visit to that place. One
Sunday a fellow boarder, thinking that perhaps she might find some
leisure before the service to perfect herself in her lesson for the
following day, thoughtlessly took along with her a volume of French
plays by Voltaire. During the service someone in a near pew observed the
author's name upon the book, and forthwith the Morristown populace was
startled to hear that among Madame Chegaray's pupils was a follower of
the noted infidel. It took some time to convince the public that this
book was carried to church by my schoolmate without her teacher's
knowledge; and the girl was horrified to learn that she was
unintentionally to blame for a new local scandal. While I was at Madame
Chegaray's I owned a schoolbook entitled "Shelley, Coleridge and Keats."
I brought it home with me one day, but my father took it away from me
and, as I learned later, burned it, owing to his detestation of
Shelley's moral character. On one occasion he quoted in court some
extracts from Shelley as illustrative of the poet's character, but I
cannot recall the passage.

After two years spent in Madison, Madame Chegaray returned to New York
and reopened her school on the corner of Union Square and Fifteenth
Street in three houses built for her by Samuel B. Ruggles. At that time
the omnibuses had been running only to Fourteenth Street, but, out of
courtesy to this noble woman, their route was extended to Fifteenth
Street, where a lamp for the same reason was placed by the city. Madame
Chegaray taught here for many years, but finally moved to 78 Madison
Avenue, where she remained until, on account of old age, she was obliged
to give up her teaching.

While I was still attending Madame Chegaray's school, my father, under
the impression that I was not quite as proficient in mathematics and
astronomy as it was his desire and ambition that I should be, employed
Professor Robert Adrian of Columbia College to give me private
instruction in my own home. Under his able tuition, I particularly
enjoyed traversing the firmament. I was always faithful to the planet
Venus, whose beauty was to me then, as now, a constant delight. In those
youthful days my proprietorship in this heavenly body seemed to me as
well established as in a Fifth Avenue lot, and was quite as tangible. I
regarded myself in the light of an individual proprietor, and, like
Alexander Selkirk in his far away island of the sea, my right to this
celestial domain there was none to dispute.

After the flight of so many years, and in view, also, of the fact that
sometimes the world seems to us older women to be almost turned upside
down, it may not be uninteresting to speak of some of the books which
were familiar to me during my school days. One of the first I ever read
was "Clarissa Harlowe" by Samuel Richardson. "Cecilia," by Frances
Burney, was another well-known book of the day. Mrs. Amelia Opie was
also a popular authoress, and her novel entitled "White Lies" should, in
my opinion, grace every library. Miss Maria Edgeworth and Mrs. Ann Eliza
Bray, the latter of whom so graphically depicted the higher phases of
English life, were popular authoresses in my earlier days in New York.
Many years later some of the books I have mentioned were republished by
the Harpers. "Gil Blas," whose author, Le Sage, was the skilful
delineator of human nature, its attributes and its frailties, was much
read, and, in my long journey through life, certain portions of this
book have often been recalled to me by my many and varied experiences. I
must not fail to speak of the "Children of the Abbey," by Regina M.
Roche, where the fascinations of Lord Leicester are so vividly
portrayed; nor of another book entitled "The Three Spaniards," by George
Walker, which used to strike terror to my unsophisticated soul.

When Madame Chegaray retired temporarily from her school life and moved
to Madison in New Jersey, Charles Canda, who had taught drawing for her,
established a school of his own in New York which became very prominent.
He had an attractive young daughter, who met with a most heartrending
end. On her way to a ball, in company with one of her girl friends,
Charlotte Canda was thrown from her carriage, and when picked up her
life was extinct. As there were no injuries found upon her body, it was
generally supposed that the shock brought on an attack of heart-failure.
Subsequently the disconsolate parents ordered from Italy a monument
costing a fabulous sum of money for those days, which was placed over
the grave of their only daughter in Greenwood Cemetery, where it still
continues to command the admiration of sightseers. This tragic incident
occurred in February, 1845, on the eve of the victim's seventeenth
birthday.

While Madame Chegaray was my teacher there was a charming French society
in New York, her house being the rendezvous of this interesting social
circle. I recall with much pleasure the names of Boisseau, Trudeau,
Boisaubin, Thebaud and Brugiere. Madame Chegaray's sister, Caroline,
together with her husband, Charles Berault, who taught dancing, and
their three daughters, resided with her. The oldest, Madame Vincente
Rose Ameline (Madame George R. A. Chaulet), taught music for her aunt;
the second niece, Marie-Louise Josephine Laure, married Joseph U. F.
d'Hervilly, a Frenchman, and in after life established a school in
Philadelphia which she named Chegaray Institute; while the youngest,
Pauline, married a gentleman from Cuba, named de Ruiz, and now resides
in Paris.




CHAPTER IV

LIFE AND EXPERIENCES IN THE METROPOLIS


My health was somewhat impaired by an attack of chills and fever while I
was still a pupil at Madame Chegaray's school. Long Island was
especially affected with this malady, and even certain locations on the
Hudson were on this account regarded with disfavor. In subsequent years,
when the building operations of the Hudson River railroad cut off the
water in many places and formed stagnant pools, it became much worse. As
I began to convalesce, Dr. John W. Francis prescribed a change of air,
and I was accordingly sent to Saratoga to be under the care of my
friend, Mrs. Richard Armistead of North Carolina. A few days after my
arrival we were joined by Mrs. De Witt Clinton and her attractive
step-daughter, Julia Clinton. The United States Hotel, where we stayed,
was thronged with visitors, but as I was only a young girl my
observation of social life was naturally limited and I knew but few
persons. Mrs. Clinton was a granddaughter of Philip Livingston, the
Signer, and married at a mature age. She had a natural and most profound
admiration for the memory of her illustrious husband, whom I have heard
her describe as "a prince among men," and she cherished an undying
resentment for any of his political antagonists.

While we were still at the United States Hotel, Martin Van Buren, at
that time President of the United States, arrived in Saratoga and
sojourned at the same hotel with us. His visit made an indelible
impression upon my memory owing to a highly sensational incident. During
the evening of the President's arrival Mrs. Clinton was promenading in
the large parlor of the hotel, leaning upon the arm of the Portuguese
_Charge d'Affaires_, Senhor Joaquim Cesar de Figaniere, when Mr. Van
Buren espying her advanced with his usual suavity of manner to meet her.
With a smile upon his face, he extended his hand, whereupon Mrs. Clinton
immediately turned her back and compelled her escort to imitate her,
apparently ignoring the fact that he was a foreign diplomat and that his
conduct might subsequently be resented by the authorities in Washington.
This incident, occurring as it did in a crowded room, was observed by
many of the guests and naturally created much comment. In talking over
the incident the next day Mrs. Clinton told me she was under the
impression that Mr. Van Buren clearly understood her feelings in regard
to him, as some years previous, when he and General Andrew Jackson
called upon her together, she had declined to see him, although Jackson
had been admitted. This act was characteristic of the woman. It was the
expression of a resentment which she had harbored against Mr. Van Buren
for years and which she was only abiding her time to display. I was
standing at Mrs. Clinton's side during this dramatic episode, and to my
youthful fancy she seemed, indeed, a heroine!

Mrs. Clinton was a social leader in Gotham before the days of the
_nouveaux riches_, and her sway was that of an autocrat. Her presence
was in every way imposing. She possessed many charming characteristics
and was in more respects than one an uncrowned queen, retaining her
wonderful tact and social power until the day of her death. I love to
dwell upon Mrs. Clinton because, apart from her remarkable personal
characteristics, she was the friend of my earlier life. Possessed as she
was of many eccentricities, her excellencies far counterbalanced them.
Of the latter, I recall especially the unusual ability and care she
displayed in housekeeping, which at that time was regarded as an
accomplishment in which every woman took particular pride. To be still
more specific, she apparently had a much greater horror of dirt than the
average housewife, and carried her antipathy to such an extent that she
tolerated but few fires in her University Place establishment in New
York, as she seriously objected to the uncleanness caused by the dust
and ashes! No matter how cold her house nor how frigid the day, she
never seemed to suffer but, on the contrary, complained that her home
was overheated. Her guests frequently commented upon "the nipping and
eager air" which Shakespeare's Horatio speaks of, but it made no
apparent impression upon their hostess.

Mrs. Clinton's articulation was affected by a slight stammer, which, in
my opinion, but added piquancy to her epigrammatic sayings. She once
remarked to me, "I shall never be c-c-cold until I'm dead." An impulse
took possession of me which somehow, in spite of the great difference in
our ages, I seemed unable to resist, and I retorted, "We are not all
assured of our temperatures at that period." She regarded me for a few
moments with unfeigned astonishment, but said nothing. I did not suffer
for my temerity at that moment, but later I was chagrined to learn she
had remarked that I was the most impertinent girl she had ever known. I
remember that upon another occasion she told me that one of Governor
Clinton's grandchildren, Augusta Clinton, was about to leave school at a
very early age. "Doesn't she intend to finish her education?" I
inquired. "No," was the quick and emphatic but stuttering reply, "she's
had sufficient education. I was at school only two months, and I'm sure
I'm smart enough." Her niece, Margaret Gelston, who was present and was
remarkable for her clear wits, retorted: "Only think how much smarter
you'd have been if you had remained longer." In an angry tone Mrs.
Clinton replied, "I don't want to be any smarter, I'm smart enough."

Mrs. Clinton's two nieces, the Misses Mary and Margaret Gelston, were
among my earliest and most intimate friends. They occupied a prominent
social position in New York and both were well known for their unusual
intellectuality. They were daughters of Maltby Gelston, President of the
Manhattan Bank, and granddaughters of David Gelston, who was appointed
Collector of the Port of New York by Jefferson and retained that
position for twenty years. Late in life Mary Gelston married Henry R.
Winthrop of New York. She died a few years ago leaving an immense estate
to Princeton Theological Seminary. "I pray," reads her will, "that the
Trustees of this Institution may make such use of this bequest as that
the extension of the Church of Christ on earth and the glory of God may
be promoted thereby." In the same instrument she adds: "As a similar
bequest would have been made by my deceased sister, Margaret L. Gelston,
had she survived me, I desire that the said Trustees should regard it as
given jointly by my said sister and by me." Some distant relatives,
thinking that her money could be more satisfactorily employed than in
the manner indicated, contested the will, and the Seminary finally
received, as the result of a compromise, between $1,600,000 and
$1,700,000.

One of my earliest recollections is of John Jacob Astor, a feeble old
man descending the doorsteps of his home on Broadway near Houston Street
to enter his carriage. His house was exceedingly plain and was one of a
row owned by him. His son, William Backhouse Astor, who married a
daughter of General John Armstrong, Secretary of War under President
Madison, during at least a portion of his father's life lived in a fine
house on Lafayette Place. I have attended evening parties there that
were exceedingly simple in character, and at which Mrs. Astor was always
plainly dressed and wore no jewels. I have a very distinct recollection
of one of these parties owing to a ludicrous incident connected with
myself. My mother was a woman of decidedly domestic tastes, whose whole
life was so immersed in her large family of children that she never
allowed an event of a social character to interfere with what she
regarded as her household or maternal duties. We older children were
therefore much thrown upon our own resources from a social point of
view, and when I grew into womanhood and entered society I was usually
accompanied to entertainments by my father. Sometimes, however, I went
with my lifelong friend, Margaret Tillotson Kemble, a daughter of
William Kemble, of whom I shall speak hereafter. Upon this particular
occasion I had gone early in the day to the Kembles preparatory to
spending the night there, with the intention of attending a ball at the
Astors'. Having dined, supped, and dressed myself for the occasion, in
company with Miss Kemble and her father I reached the Astor residence,
where I found on the doorstep an Irish maid from my own home awaiting my
arrival. In her hand she held an exquisite bouquet of pink and white
japonicas which had been sent to me by John Still Winthrop, the _fiance_
of Susan Armistead, another of my intimate friends. The bouquet had
arrived just after my departure from home and, quite unknown to my
family, the Irish maid out of the goodness of her heart had taken it
upon herself to see that it was placed in my hands. I learned later
that, much to the amusement of many of the guests, she had been awaiting
my arrival for several hours. It seems almost needless to add that I
carried my flowers throughout the evening with much girlish pride and
pleasure.

Among the guests at this ball was Mrs. Francis R. Boreel, the young and
beautiful daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Walter Langdon, who wore in her dark
hair a diamond necklace, a recent gift from her grandfather, John Jacob
Astor. It was currently rumored at the time that it cost twenty thousand
dollars, which was then a very large amount to invest in a single
article of that character. Mrs. Langdon's two other daughters were Mrs.
Matthew Wilks, who married abroad and spent her life there, and the
first Mrs. De Lancey Kane, who made a runaway match, and both of whom
left descendants in New York. All three women were celebrated for their
beauty, but Mrs. Boreel was usually regarded as the handsomest of the
trio. Mrs. Walter Langdon was Dorothea Astor, a daughter of John Jacob
Astor, and her husband was a grandson of Judge John Langdon of New
Hampshire, who equipped Stark's regiment for the battle of Bennington,
and who for twelve years was a member of the United States Senate and
was present as President _pro tempore_ of that body at the first
inauguration of Washington.

Another society woman whose presence at this ball I recall, and without
whom no entertainment was regarded as complete, was Mrs. Charles
Augustus Davis, wife of the author of the well-known "Jack Downing
Letters." Indeed, the name "Jack Downing" seemed so much a part of the
Davis family that in after years I have often heard Mrs. Davis called
"Mrs. Jack Downing." The Davises had a handsome daughter who married a
gentleman of French descent, but neither of them long survived the
marriage.

In an old newspaper of 1807 I came across the following marriage notice,
which was the first Astor wedding to occur in this country:

     BENTZON--ASTOR. Married, on Monday morning, the 14th ult.
     [September], by the Rev. Mr. [Ralph] Williston, Adrian B.
     Bentzon, Esq., of the Isle of St. Croix, to Miss Magdalen
     Astor, daughter of John Jacob Astor of this city.

It was while on a cruise among the West Indies that Miss Astor met Mr.
Bentzon, a Danish gentleman of good family but moderate fortune. In the
early part of the last century many ambitious foreigners went to that
part of the world with the intention of making their fortunes.

Another daughter of John Jacob Astor, Eliza, married Count Vincent
Rumpff, who was for some years Minister at the Court of the Tuileries
from the Hanseatic towns of Germany. She was well known through life,
and long remembered after death, for her symmetrical Christian
character. One of her writings, entitled "Transplanted Flowers," has
been published in conjunction with one of the Duchesse de Broglie,
daughter of Madame de Stael, with whom she was intimately associated in
her Christian works.

Henry Astor, the brother of John Jacob Astor, was the first of the
family to come to America. I am able to state, upon the authority of the
late Rev. Dr. Morgan Dix, rector of Trinity church in New York, and a
life-long friend of the whole Astor connection, that he was a private in
a Hessian regiment that fought against our colonies in the Revolutionary
War. After its close he decided to remain in New York where he entered
the employment of a butcher in the old Oswego market. He subsequently
embarked upon more ambitious enterprises, became a highly successful
business man and at his death left a large fortune to his childless
widow. Dr. Dix has stated that it was probably through him that the
younger brother came to this country. However this may be, John Jacob
Astor sailed for America as a steerage passenger in a ship commanded by
Capt. Jacob Stout and arrived in Baltimore in January, 1784. He
subsequently went to New York, where he spent his first night in the
house of George Dieterich, a fellow countryman whom he had known in
Germany and by whom he was now employed to peddle cakes. After remaining
in his employ for a time and accumulating a little money he hired a
store of his own where he sold toys and German knickknacks. He
afterwards added skins and even musical instruments to his stock in
trade, as will appear from the following in _The Daily Advertiser_ of
New York, of the 2d of January, 1789, and following issues:

                      J. Jacob Astor,
                  At No. 81, Queen-street,
        Next door but one to the Friends Meeting-House,
                Has for sale an assortment of
            Piano fortes, of the newest construction,
     Made by the best makers in London, which he will sell on
     reasonable terms.
     He gives Cash for all kinds of FURS:
     And has for sale a quantity of Canada Beaver, and
     Beaver Coating, Racoon Skins, and Racoon Blankets,
     Muskrat Skins, &c. &c.

It would seem that these Astor pianos were manufactured in London and
that George Astor, an elder brother of John Jacob Astor, was associated
with the latter in their sale. Indeed, one of them, formerly owned by
the Clinton family and now in Washington's Headquarters in Newburgh,
bears the name of "Geo. Astor & Co., Cornhill, London;" while still
another in my immediate neighborhood in Washington has the inscription
of "Astor and Camp, 79 Cornhill, London." Their octaves were few in
number, and a pupil of Chopin would have regarded them with scorn; but
upon these little spindle-legged affairs a duet could be performed. My
first knowledge of instrumental music was derived from one of these
pianos, and among the earliest recollections of my childhood is that of
hearing my three maiden aunts, my father's sisters, playing in turn the
inspiring Scotch airs upon the Astor piano that stood in their
drawing-room. One of their songs was especially inimical to cloistered
life and it, too, was possibly of Scotch origin. I am unable to recall
its exact words, but its refrain ran as follows:

    I will not be a nun,
    I can not be a nun,
    I shall not be a nun,
    I'm so fond of pleasure
    I'll not be a nun.

I own an original letter written by John Jacob Astor from New York on
the 26th of April, 1826, addressed to ex-President James Monroe, my
husband's grandfather, which I regard as interesting on account of its
quaint style:

     Dear Sir,

     Permit me to congratulate you on your Honourable retirement
     [from public life] for which I most sincerely wish you may
     enjoy that Peace and Tranquility to which you are so justly
     entitled.

     Without wishing to cause you any Inconveniency [sic] on
     account of the loan which I so long since made to you I
     would be glad if you would put it in a train of sittlelment
     [sic] if not the whole let it be a part with the interest
     Due.

     I hope Dear Sir that you and Mrs. Monroe enjoy the best of
     health and that you may live many years to wittness [sic]
     the Prosperity of the country to which you have so
     generously contributed.

     I am most Respectfully Dear Sir your obed S. &c.

          J. J. ASTOR.

     The Honble James Monroe.

It may here be stated that Mr. Astor's solicitude concerning Mr.
Monroe's financial obligation was duly relieved, and that the debt was
paid in full.

John Jacob Astor's numerous descendants can lay this "flattering
unction" to their souls, that every dollar of his vast wealth was
accumulated through thrift while leading an upright life.

An old-fashioned stage coach in my early days ran between New York and
Harlem, but the fashionable drive was on the west side of the city
along what was then called the "Bloomingdale Road." Many fashionable New
Yorkers owned and occupied handsome country seats along this route, and
closed their city homes for a period during the heated term. I recall
with pleasure the home of the Prussian Consul General and Mrs. John
William Schmidt, and especially their attractive daughters. Mr. Schmidt,
who came to this country as a bachelor, married Miss Eliza Ann Bache of
New York. Quite a number of years subsequent to this event, before they
had children of their own, they adopted a little girl whom they named
Julia and whom I knew very well in my early girlhood. As equestrian
exercise was popular in New York at that time, many of the young men and
women riding on the Bloomingdale Road would stop at the Schmidts'
hospitable home, rest their horses and enjoy a pleasing half-hour's
conversation with the daughters of the household. Among the fair riders
was Mary Tallmadge, a famous beauty and a daughter of General James
Tallmadge. During her early life and at a period when visits abroad were
few and far between, her father accompanied her to Europe. During her
travels on the continent she visited St. Petersburg, where her beauty
created a great sensation. While there the Emperor Nicholas I. presented
her with a handsome India shawl. She returned to America, married Philip
S. Van Rensselaer, a son of the old Patroon, and lived for many years on
Washington Square in New York.

Alexander Hamilton and family also owned and occupied a house in this
charming suburb called "The Grange." It was subsequently occupied by
Herman Thorne, who had married Miss Jane Mary Jauncey, a wealthy heiress
of New York. He lived in this house only a few years when he went with
his wife to reside in Paris during the reign of Louis Philippe. Mr.
Thorne became the most prominent American resident there and excited
the envy of many of his countrymen by his lavish expenditure of money.
His daughters made foreign matrimonial alliances. He was originally from
Schenectady, for a time was a purser in the U.S. Navy, and was
remarkable for his handsome presence and courtly bearing.

Jacob Lorillard lived in a handsome house in Manhattanville, a short
distance from the Bloomingdale Road. He began life, first as an
apprentice and then as a proprietor, in the tanning and hide business,
and his tannery was on Pearl Street. He then, with his brothers,
embarked in the manufacture and sale of snuff and tobacco, in which, as
is well known, he amassed an immense fortune. My earliest recollection
of the family is in the days of its great prosperity. One of Mr.
Lorillard's daughters, Julia, who married Daniel Edgar, I knew very
well, and I recall a visit I once made her in her beautiful home, where
I also attended her wedding a few years later. At this time her mother
was a widow, and shortly after the marriage the place was sold to the
Catholic order of the _Sacre Coeur_. Mrs. Jacob Lorillard was a daughter
of the Rev. Doctor Johann Christoff Kunze, professor of Oriental
Languages in Columbia College.

Many years ago the wags of London exhausted their wits in fittingly
characterizing and ridiculing the numerous equipages of a London
manufacturer of snuff and tobacco. One couplet suggestive of the manner
in which this vast wealth was acquired, was

    Who would have thought it
    That Noses had bought it.

The suitor of the daughter of this wealthy Englishman was appropriately
dubbed "Up to Snuff." Alas, this ancestral and aristocratic luxury of
snuff departed many years ago, but succeeding generations have been "up
to snuff" in many other ways. The gold snuff-box frequently studded
with gems which I remember so well in days gone by and especially at the
home Gouverneur Kemble in Cold Spring, where it was passed around and
freely used by both men and women, now commands no respect except as an
ancestral curio. Dryden, Dean Swift, Pope, Addison, Lord Chesterfield,
Dr. Johnson, Garrick, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Keats, Charles Lamb, Gibbon,
Walter Scott and Darwin were among the prominent worshipers of the
snuff-box and its contents, while some of them indulged in the habit to
the degree of intemperance. In describing his manner of using the
snuff-box Gibbon wrote: "I drew my snuff-box, rapped it, took snuff
twice, and continued my discourse in my usual attitude of my body bent
forwards, and my fore-finger stretched out;" and Boswell wrote in its
praise:

    Oh, snuff! our fashionable end and aim--
    Strasburgh, Rappe, Dutch, Scotch--whate'er thy name!
    Powder celestial! quintessence divine
    New joys entrance my soul while thou art mine;
    Who takes? who takes thee not? Where'er I range
    I smell thy sweets from Pall Mall to the 'Change.

While the spirit of patriotism was as prevalent in early New York as it
is now, it seems to me that it was somewhat less demonstrative. The 4th
of July, however, was anticipated by the youngsters of the day with the
greatest eagerness and pleasure. It was the habit of my father, for many
years, to take us children early in the morning to the City Hall to
attend the official observances of the day, an experience which we
naturally regarded as a great privilege. Booths were temporarily erected
all along the pavement in front of the City Hall, where substantial food
was displayed and sold to the crowds collected to assist in celebrating
the day. About noon several military companies arrived upon the scene
and took their positions in the park, where, after a number of
interesting maneuvers, a salute was fired which was terrifying to my
youthful nerves. Small boys, then as now, provided themselves with
pistols, and human life was occasionally sacrificed to patriotic ardor,
although I never remember hearing of cases of lockjaw resulting from
such accidents, as is so frequently the case at present. Firecrackers
and torpedoes were then in vogue, but skyrockets and more elaborate
fireworks had not then come into general use. I do not recall that the
national flag was especially prominent upon the "glorious fourth," and
it is my impression that this insignia of patriotism was not universally
displayed upon patriotic occasions until the Civil War.

The musical world of New York lay dormant until about the year 1825,
when Dominick Lynch, much to the delight of the cultivated classes,
introduced the Italian Opera. Through his instrumentality Madame
Malibran, her father, Signor Garcia, and her brother, Manuel Garcia, who
by the way died abroad in 1906, nearly ninety-nine years of age, came to
this country and remained for quite a period. I have heard many sad
traditions regarding Malibran, whose name is certainly immortal in the
annals of the musical world. Mr. Lynch was the social leader of his day
in New York, was aesthetic in his tastes, and possessed a highly
cultivated voice. He frequently sang the beautiful old ballads so much
in vogue at that period. I have heard through Mrs. Samuel L. Hinckley,
an old friend of mine, who remembered the incident, that during a visit
to Boston when he sang Tom Moore's pathetic ballad, "Oft in the Stilly
Night," there was scarcely a dry eye in the room. In referring to the
introduction of the Italian Opera into this country Dr. John W. Francis
in his "Old New York" thus speaks of Dominick Lynch: "For this
advantageous accession to the resources of mental gratification, we were
indebted to the taste and refinement of Dominick Lynch, the liberality
of the manager of the Park Theater, Stephen Price, and the distinguished
reputation of the Venetian, Lorenzo Da Ponte. Lynch, a native of New
York, was the acknowledged head of the fashionable and festive board, a
gentleman of the ton and a melodist of great powers and of exquisite
taste; he had long striven to enhance the character of our music; he was
the master of English song, but he felt, from his close cultivation of
music and his knowledge of the genius of his countrymen, that much was
wanting, and that more could be accomplished, and he sought out, while
in Europe, an Italian _troupe_, which his persuasive eloquence and the
liberal spirit of Price led to embark for our shores where they arrived
in November, 1825." Stephen Price here referred to by Dr. Francis was
the manager of the old Park Theater. Dominick Lynch's grandson, Nicholas
Luquer, who with his charming wife, formerly Miss Helen K. Shelton of
New York, resides in Washington, and his son, Lynch Luquer, inherit the
musical ability of their ancestor.

The great actors of the day performed in the Park Theater. I also
vividly remember the Bowery Theater, as well as in subsequent years
Burton's Theater in Chambers Street and the Astor Place Theater. When
William C. Macready, the great English actor, was performing in the
latter in 1849 a riot occurred caused by the jealousy existing between
him and his American rival, Edwin Forrest. Forrest had not been well
received in England owing, as he believed, to the unfriendly influence
of Macready. While the latter was considered by many the better actor,
Forrest was exceptionally popular with a certain class of people in New
York whose sympathies were easily enlisted and whose passions were
readily aroused. During the evening referred to, while Macready was
acting in the _role_ of Macbeth, a determined mob attacked the theater,
and the riot was not quelled until after a bitter struggle, in which the
police and the military were engaged, and during which twenty-one were
killed and thirty-three wounded.

In consequence of this unfortunate rivalry and its bloody results,
Forrest became morbid, and his domestic infelicities that followed
served to still further embitter his life. In 1850 his wife instituted
proceedings for divorce in the Superior Court of the City of New York,
and the trial was protracted for two years. She was represented by the
eminent jurist, Charles O'Conor, while Forrest employed "Prince" John
Van Buren, son of the ex-President. The legal struggle was one of the
most celebrated in the annals of the New York bar. There was abundant
evidence of moral delinquency on the part of both parties to the suit,
but the verdict was in favor of Mrs. Forrest. She was the daughter of
John Sinclair, formerly a drummer in the English army and subsequently a
professional singer. James Gordon Bennett said of her in the _Herald_
that "being born and schooled in turmoil and dissipation and reared in
constant excitement she could not live without it."

I have heard it said that one day John Van Buren was asked by a
disgruntled friend at the close of a hotly contested suit whether there
was any case so vile or disreputable that he would refuse to act as
counsel for the accused. The quick response was: "I must first know the
circumstances of the case; but what have you been doing?" Dr. Valentine
Mott, who for many years was a resident of Paris, gave a fancy-dress
ball in New York in honor of the Prince de Joinville, son of Louis
Philippe. At this entertainment John Van Buren appeared in the usual
evening dress with a red sash tied around his waist. Much to the
amusement of the guests whom he met, his salutation was: "Would you know
me?" It will be remembered that he was familiarly called "Prince John,"
owing to the fact that he had once danced with Queen Victoria prior to
her ascension to the throne. One day Van Buren met on the street James
T. Brady, a lawyer of equal ability and wit, who had recently returned
from a visit to England. In a most patronizing manner he inquired
whether he had seen the Queen. "Certainly," said Mr. Brady, "and under
these circumstances. I was walking along the street when by chance the
Queen's carriage overtook me, and the moment Her Majesty's eye lighted
upon me she exclaimed: 'Hello, Jim Brady, when did you hear from John
Van Buren?'" I recall another amusing anecdote about John Van Buren
during my school days. Mustaches were at that time worn chiefly by the
sporting element. Mr. Van Buren, who was very attentive to Catharine
Theodora Duer, a daughter of President William Alexander Duer of
Columbia College, and who, by the way, never married, adopted this style
of facial adornment, but the young woman objecting to it he cut it off
and sent it to her in a letter. Prince John Van Buren's daughter, Miss
Anna Vander Poel Van Buren, many years thereafter, married Edward
Alexander Duer, a nephew of this Catharine Theodora Duer.

It was my very great pleasure to know Fanny Kemble and her father,
Charles Kemble. She was, indeed, the queen of tragedy, and delighted the
histrionic world of New York by her remarkable rendering of the plays of
Shakespeare. In later years when I heard her give Shakespearian
readings, I regarded the occasion as an epoch in my life. In this
connection I venture to express my surprise that the classical English
quotations so pleasing to the ear in former days are now so seldom
heard. It seems unfortunate that the epigrammatic sentences, for
example, of grand old Dr. Samuel Johnson have become almost obsolete. In
former years Byron appealed to the sentiment, while the more ambitious
quoted Greek maxims. The sayings of the old authors were recalled,
mingled with the current topics of the day. It would seem, however, that
the present generation is decidedly more interested in quotations from
the stock exchange. Edmund Burke said that "the age of chivalry is
gone, that of sophists, economists, and calculators has succeeded."

Upon her return to England Fanny Kemble published her journal kept while
in the United States, which was by no means pleasing in every respect to
her American readers. It is said that in one of her literary effusions
she dwelt upon a custom, which she claimed was prevalent in America, of
parents naming their children after classical heroes, and gave as an
example a child in New York who bore the name of Alfonzo Alonzo
Agamemnon Dionysius Bogardus. The sister of this youth, she stated, was
named Clementina Seraphina Imogen. I think this statement must have been
evolved from her own brain, as it would be difficult to conceive of
parents who would consent to make their children notorious in such a
ridiculous manner. Fanny Kemble married Pierce Butler, a lawyer of
ability and cousin of the U.S. Senator from South Carolina of the same
name, and they were divorced in 1849, when the Hon. George M. Dallas was
counsel for Fanny Kemble and Rufus Choate appeared for her husband.

Fanny Elssler, a queen of grace and beauty on the stage, delighted
immense audiences at the Park Theater. She came to this country under
the auspices of Chevalier Henry Wikoff, a roving but accomplished
soldier of fortune, who pitched his camp in both continents. Upon her
arrival in New York the "divine Fanny," as she was invariably called,
was borne to her destination in a carriage from which the horses had
been detached by her enthusiastic _adorateurs_, led by August Belmont.
She was, indeed,

    A being so fair that the same lips and eyes
    She bore on earth might serve in Paradise.

At this distant day it seems almost impossible to describe her. She
seemed to float upon the stage sustained only by the surrounding
atmosphere. In my opinion she has never had a rival, with the possible
exception of Taglioni, the great Swedish _danseuse_. I saw Fanny Elssler
dance the _cracovienne_ and the _cachucha_, and it is a memory which
will linger with me always. The music that accompanied these dances was
generally selected from the popular airs of the day. Many dark stories
were afloat concerning Fanny Elssler's private life, but to me it seems
impossible to associate her angelic presence with anything but her
wonderful art. She was never received socially in New York; indeed, the
only person that I remember connected with the stage in my early days
who had the social _entree_ was Fanny Kemble.

We attended the Dutch Reformed Church in New York of which the Rev. Dr.
Jacob Brodhead was for many years the pastor. My aunts, however,
attended one of the three collegiate churches in the lower part of the
city, and I sometimes accompanied them and, as there was a frequent
interchange of pulpits, I became quite accustomed to hear all of the
three clergymen. The Rev. Dr. John Knox, who endeared himself to his
flock by his gentle and appealing ministrations; the Rev. Dr. Thomas De
Witt, a profound theologian and courtly gentleman; and the Rev. Dr.
William C. Brownlee, with his vigorous Scotch accent, preaching against
what he invariably called "papery" (popery), and recalling, as he did,
John Knox of old, that irritating thorn in the side of the unfortunate
Mary Queen of Scots, made up this remarkable trio. During the latter
part of his life Dr. Brownlee suffered from a stroke of paralysis which
rendered him speechless, and his Catholic adversaries improved this
opportunity to circulate the report that he had been visited by a
judgment from Heaven.

There were many shining lights in the Episcopal Church at this time in
New York. The Rev. Dr. William Berrian was the acceptable rector of St.
John's, which was then as now a chapel of Trinity Parish. The Rev. Dr.
Francis L. Hawks was the popular rector of St. Thomas's church, on the
corner of Broadway and Houston Streets. He was a North Carolinian by
birth, but is said to have been in part of Indian descent. I recall with
pleasure his masterly rendition of the Episcopal service. During the
Civil War he made it quite apparent to his parishioners that his
sympathies were with the South, and as most of them did not share his
views he moved to Baltimore, where a more congenial atmosphere
surrounded him.

The Rev. Dr. Stephen H. Tyng, senior, was the rector of St. George's
Episcopal church in the lower part of the city. He was a theologian of
the Low-Church school and was greatly esteemed by all of his colleagues.
His son, the Rev. Dr. Stephen H. Tyng, junior, was in full sympathy with
the Low-Church views of his father, and will be recalled as an
evangelical preacher of exceptional power and wide influence. In the
summer of 1867 he preached, in defiance of the canons of the Episcopal
Church, in St. James's Methodist church in New Brunswick, N.J., thus
invading without authority the parishes of the Rev. Dr. Alfred Stubs and
the Rev. Dr. Edward B. Boggs of that city. His trial was of sensational
interest, and resulted, as will be remembered, in his conviction. The
attitude of the Tyngs, father and son, was humorously described by
Anthony Bleecker, a well-known wit of the day, in these verses:

    _Tyng, Junior._

    I preach from barrels and from tubs,
    In spite of Boggs, in spite of Stubs;
    I'll preach from stumps, I'll preach from logs,
    In spite of Stubs, in spite of Boggs.

    _Tyng, Senior._

    Do, Steve; and lay aside your gown,
    Your bands and surplice throw them down;
    A bob-tail coat of tweed or kersey
    Is good enough at least for Jersey.

    _Tyng, Junior._

    What if the Bishops interfere,
    And I am made a culprit clear;
    Can't you a thunderbolt then forge,
    And hurl it in the new St. George?

    _Tyng, Senior._

    Be sure I can and out of spite
    A wrathy sermon I'll indite;
    I'll score the court and every judge
    And call the whole proceedings fudge;
    And worse than that each reverent name
    I'll bellow through the trump of fame;
    With Bishop Potter I'll get even,
    And make you out the martyr Stephen.

The Rev. Dr. Orville Dewey, renowned for his intellectual attainments,
preached in the Unitarian church in Mercer Street. In subsequent years
his sermons were published and I understand are still read with much
interest and pleasure. Archbishop John Hughes, whom I knew quite well,
was the controlling power in the Roman Catholic Church. He possessed the
affectionate regard of the whole community, and naturally commanded a
wide influence. A Roman Catholic told me many years ago that, upon one
of the visits of the Archbishop to St. Peter's church, he took the
congregation to task for their exclusiveness, exclaiming: "You lock up
your pews and exclude the marrow of the land."

I knew very well the Rev. Charles Constantine Pise, the first
native-born Catholic to officiate in St. Joseph's church on Sixth
Avenue. He was of Italian parentage and was remarkable for his great
physical attractiveness. In addition to his fine appearance, he was
exceedingly social in his tastes and was consequently a highly agreeable
guest. He cultivated the muses to a modest degree, and I have several of
his poetical effusions, one of which was addressed to me. In spite of
the admiration he commanded from both men and women, irrespective of
creed, life seemed to present to him but few allurements. Archbishop
Hughes sent him to a small Long Island parish where, after laboring long
and earnestly, he closed his earthly career. An anecdote is related of
this pious man which I believe to be true. A young woman quite forgetful
of the proprieties and conventionalties of life, but with decided
matrimonial proclivities, made Father Pise an offer of her fortune,
heart and hand. In a dignified manner he advised her to give her heart
to God, her money to the poor, and her hand to the man who asked for it.
Prior to his rectorship of St. Joseph's church in New York, Father Pise,
who was an intimate friend of Henry Clay, served as Chaplain of the U.S.
Senate during a portion of the 22d Congress. At the National Capital as
well as in New York he was exceptionally popular, making many converts,
especially among young women, and preaching to congregations in churches
so densely crowded that it was difficult to obtain even standing room.

I cannot pass the Roman Catholic clergy without some reference to the
Rev. Felix Varela, a priest of Spanish descent and, it is said, of noble
birth, who was sent from Cuba to Spain as one of the deputies to the
Cortes from his native island. His church was St. Peter's in Barclay
Street. It would be difficult for any words to do justice to his life of
self-abnegation or to his adherence to the precepts of his Divine
Master. It is with pleasure, therefore, that I relate the following
story, for the truth of which I can vouch. A policeman found a handsome
pair of silver candlesticks in the custody of a poor unfortunate man,
and as they bore upon them a distinctive coat of arms he arrested him.
On his way to prison the suspected criminal begged to see Father Varela
for a moment, and as his residence was _en route_ to the station house
the officer granted his request. This good priest informed the policeman
with much reluctance that the candlesticks had formerly belonged to
him, and that he had given them to his prisoner to buy bread for his
family. My father was so deeply in sympathy with the life and character
of this priest that, although of a different faith, he seldom heard his
name mentioned without an expression of admiration for his life and
character.

There was a French Protestant church in Franklin Street ministered to by
the Rev. Dr. Antoine Verren, whose wife was a daughter of Thomas
Hammersley. I also remember very well a Presbyterian church on Laight
Street, opposite St. John's Park, the rector of which was the Rev. Dr.
Samuel H. Cox, an uncle of the late Bishop Arthur Cleveland Cox of the
Episcopal Church. Dr. Cox was a prominent abolitionist, and when we were
living on Hubert Street, just around the corner, this church was stoned
by a mob because the rector had expressed his anti-slavery views too
freely.

The mode of conducting funerals in former days in New York differed very
materially from the customs now in vogue. While the coffins of the
well-to-do were made entirely of mahogany and without handles, I have
always understood that persons of the Hebrew faith buried their dead in
pine coffins, as they believed this wood to be more durable.
Pall-bearers wore white linen scarfs three yards long with a rosette of
the same material fastened on one shoulder, which, together with a pair
of black gloves, was always presented by the family. It was originally
the intention that the linen scarf should be used after the funeral for
making a shirt. Funerals from churches were not as customary as at the
present time. If the body was to be interred within the city limits
every one attending the services, including the family, walked to the
cemetery. It was unusual for a woman to be seen at a funeral.

But the whole social tone of New York society was more _de rigueur_ than
now. Sometimes, for example, persons living under a cloud of
insufficient magnitude to place them behind prison bars, feeling their
disgrace, took flight for Texas. Instead of placing the conventional
_P.P.C._ on their cards the letters _G.T.T._ were used, meaning that the
self-expatriated ne'er-do-well had "gone to Texas." I have always
understood that in Great Britain the transgressor sought the Continent,
where he was often enabled to pass into oblivion. In this manner both
countries were relieved of patriots who "left their country for their
country's good." As an example, I remember hearing in my early life of
an Englishman named de Roos, who had the unfortunate habit of arranging
cards to suit his own fancy. When his _confreres_ finally caught him in
the act he left hurriedly for the Continent.

In 1842 the U.S. sloop of war _Somers_ arrived in New York, and the
country was startled by the accounts of what has since been known as the
"Somers Mutiny." The Captain of the ship was Commander Alexander Slidell
Mackenzie, whose original surname was Slidell. He was a brother of the
Hon. John Slidell, at one time U.S. Senator from Louisiana, who, during
the Civil War, while on his passage to England on the _Trent_ as a
representative of the Southern Confederacy in England, was captured by
Captain Charles Wilkes of the U.S. Navy. The result of the alleged
mutiny was the execution, by hanging at the yard arm, of Philip Spencer,
a son of the celebrated New York lawyer, John C. Spencer, President
Tyler's Secretary of War, and of two sailors, Samuel Cromwell and Elisha
Small. It was charged that they had conspired to capture the ship and
set adrift or murder her officers. Being far from any home port, and
uncertain of the extent to which the spirit of disaffection had
permeated the crew, Mackenzie consulted the officers of his ship as to
the proper course for him to pursue. In accordance with their advice,
and after only a preliminary examination of witnesses and no formal
trial with testimony for the defense, they were, as just stated,
summarily executed.

I speak from the point of view of the legal element of New York, as my
father's associates were nearly all professional men. The world was
aghast upon receiving the news that three men had been hurled into
eternity without judge or jury. Spencer was a lad of less than nineteen
and a midshipman. Although Captain Mackenzie's action was sustained by
the court of inquiry, which was convened in his case, as well as by the
_esprit de corps_ of the Navy, public feeling ran so high that a court
martial was ordered. His trial of two months' duration took place at the
Brooklyn Navy Yard, and resulted in a verdict of "not proven." The
judge-advocate of the court was Mr. William H. Norris of Baltimore, and
Mackenzie was defended by Mr. George Griffith and Mr. John Duer, the
latter of whom was the distinguished New York jurist and the uncle of
Captain Mackenzie's wife. At the request of the Hon. John C. Spencer,
Benjamin F. Butler and Charles O'Conor, leaders of the New York bar,
formally applied for permission to ask questions approved by the court
and to offer testimony, but the request was refused--"so that," as
Thomas H. Benton expressed it, "at the long _post mortem_ trial which
was given to the boy after his death, the father was not allowed to ask
one question in favor of his son." After a lapse of sixty-nine years,
judging from Mackenzie's report to the Navy Department, it almost seems
as if he possessed a touch of mediaeval superstition. He speaks of
Spencer giving money and tobacco to the crew, of his being extremely
intimate with them, that he had a strange flashing of the eye, and
finally that he was in the habit of amusing the sailors by making music
with his jaws. Mackenzie in his official report stated that this lad
"had the faculty of throwing his jaw out of joint and by contact of the
bones playing with accuracy and elegance a variety of airs." James
Fenimore Cooper stated it as his opinion, "that such was the obliquity
of intellect shown by Mackenzie in the whole affair, that no analysis
of his motives can be made on any consistent principle of human action;"
and the distinguished statesman, Thomas H. Benton, whose critical and
lengthy review of the whole case would seem to carry conviction to
unprejudiced minds, declared that the three men "died innocent, as
history will tell and show."

The proceedings of the Mackenzie trial were eagerly read by an
interested public. As I remember the testimony given regarding Spencer's
last moments upon earth, Mackenzie announced to the youthful culprit
that he had but ten minutes to live. He fell at once upon his knees and
exclaimed that he was not fit to die, and the Captain replied that he
was aware of the fact, but could not help it. It is recorded that he
read his Bible and Prayer-Book, and that the Captain referred him to the
"penitent thief;" but when he pleaded that his fate would kill his
mother and injure his father, Mackenzie made the inconsiderate reply
that the best and only service he could render his father was to die.

I recall a conversation bearing upon the _Somers_ tragedy which I
overheard between my father and his early friend, Thomas Morris, when
their indignation was boundless. The latter's son, Lieutenant Charles W.
Morris, U.S.N., had made several cruises with the alleged mutineer
Cromwell. Meeting Mackenzie he stated this fact, saying at the same time
that he found him a well-disposed and capable seaman. Mackenzie quickly
responded that "he had a bad eye," and then Lieutenant Morris recalled
that the unfortunate man had a cast in one eye.

A few years after his court-martial Mackenzie fell dead from his horse.
One of the wardroom officers of the _Somers_ was Adrian Deslonde of
Louisiana, whose sister married the Hon. John Slidell, of whom I have
already spoken as Commander Mackenzie's brother.

I seldom hear the name of John Slidell without being reminded of a
witticism which I heard from my mother's lips, the author of which was
Louisa Fairlie, a daughter of Major James Fairlie, who, during the War
of the Revolution, served upon General Steuben's staff. She was, I have
understood, a great belle with a power of repartee which bordered upon
genius. During the youth of John Slidell he attended a dinner at a
prominent New York residence and sat at the table next to Miss Fairlie.
In a tactless manner he made a pointedly unpleasant remark bearing upon
the marriage of her sister Mary to the distinguished actor, Thomas
Apthorpe Cooper, a subject upon which the Fairlie family was somewhat
sensitive. Miss Fairlie regarded Mr. Slidell for only a moment, and then
retorted: "Sir, you have been _dipped_ not _moulded_ into society"--an
incident which, by the way, I heard repeated many years later at a
dinner in China. To appreciate this witticism, one may refer to the New
York directory of 1789, which describes John Slidell, the father of the
Slidell of whom we are speaking, as "soap boiler and chandler, 104
Broadway." Miss Fairlie's pun seems to me to be quite equal to that of
Rufus Choate, who, when a certain Baptist minister described himself as
"a candle of the Lord," remarked, "Then you are a dipped, but I hope not
a wick-ed candle." It is said that upon another occasion, after the
return of Mr. Slidell from a foreign trip, he was asked by Miss Fairlie
whether he had been to Greece. He replied in the negative and asked the
reason for her query. "Oh, nothing," she said, "only it would have been
very natural for you to visit Greece in order to renew early
associations!" Many years thereafter Priscilla Cooper, the wife of
Robert Tyler and the daughter-in-law of President John Tyler, a daughter
of Thomas Apthorpe Cooper and his wife, Mary Fairlie, presided at the
White House during the widowhood of her distinguished father-in-law.

As has already been stated, the father of the Hon. John Slidell was a
chandler, and he conducted his business with such success that in time
he became prominent in mercantile and financial circles, and eventually
was made president of the Mechanics Bank and the Tradesmen's Insurance
Company. His son John, who at first engaged in his father's soap and
tallow business as an apprentice, finally succeeded him, and the
enterprise was continued under the firm name of "John Slidell, Jr. and
Company." The house failed, however, and it is said that this fact,
together with the scandal attending his duel with Stephen Price, manager
of the Park Theater, in which the latter was wounded, were the
controlling factors that led the future Hon. John Slidell to remove his
residence to New Orleans. In this place he became highly celebrated as a
lawyer, and his successful political career is well known. He married
Miss Marie Mathilde Deslonde, a member of a well-known Creole family,
and many persons still living will recall her grace and _savoir faire_
in Washington when her husband represented Louisiana in the United
States Senate. Miss Jane Slidell, a sister of the Hon. John Slidell,
married Commodore Matthew C. Perry, U.S.N., who opened the doors of
Japan to the trade of the world, and whose daughter, Caroline Slidell
Perry, became the wife of the late August Belmont of New York, while
Julia, another of Mr. Slidell's sisters, married the late Rear Admiral
C. R. P. Rodgers, U.S.N.




CHAPTER V

LONG BRANCH, NEWPORT AND ELSEWHERE


When I was about ten years of age, accompanied by my parents, I made a
visit to Long Branch, which was then one of the most fashionable summer
resorts for New Yorkers. As we made the journey by steamboat and the
water was rough we were the victims of a violent attack of seasickness
from which few of the passengers escaped. Many Philadelphians also spent
their summers at this resort, and there was naturally a fair sprinkling
of people from other large cities. At that time there were no hotels in
the place, but there was one commodious boarding house which
accommodated a large number of guests. It bore no name, but was
designated as "Mrs. Sairs'," from its proprietress. In this
establishment our whole family, by no means small, found accommodations.
I recall many pleasant acquaintances we made while there, especially
that of Miss Molly Hamilton of Philadelphia. She was a vivacious old
lady, and was accompanied by her nephew, Hamilton Beckett, in whom I
found a congenial playmate. His name made a strong impression upon my
memory, as I was then reading the history of Thomas a Becket, the
murdered Archbishop of Canterbury. I have heard that this friend of my
childhood went eventually to England to reside. The Penningtons of
Newark had a cottage near us. William Pennington subsequently became
Governor of New Jersey. I also enjoyed the youthful companionship of his
daughter Mary, whom many years later I met in Washington. In the
interval she had become a pronounced belle and the wife of Hugh A. Toler
of Newark.

The guests of the boarding house were inclined to complain that the
beach was too exclusively appropriated by two acquaintances of ours who
were living in the same house with us, Mrs. G. W. Featherstonhaugh and
Mrs. Thomas M. Willing, and their train of admirers. They were sprightly
young women and daughters of Bernard Moore Carter of Virginia. I
remember it was the gossip of the place that both of them could count
their offers of marriage by the score. Mrs. Willing was a skilled
performer upon the harp, an instrument then much in vogue, but whose
silvery tones are now, alas, only memory's echo. Mr. Featherstonhaugh,
who was by birth an Englishman, after residing in the United States a
few years, wrote in 1847 a book entitled "Excursion through the Slave
States from Washington on the Potomac to the Frontier of Mexico." I
recall that in this volume he spoke with enthusiasm of the _agrements_
of the palate which he enjoyed during a few days' sojourn at Barnum's
Hotel in Baltimore. He dwelt particularly, with gastronomic ecstasy,
upon the canvas-back duck and soft-shell crab upon which he feasted, and
was inclined to draw an unfavorable comparison between the former hotel
and Gadsby's, the well-known Washington hostelry. Upon his journey he
visited Monticello, the former home of Thomas Jefferson. His encomium on
this distinguished man appealed to me as I am sure it does to others; he
spoke of him as the "Confucius of his country." Altogether, Mr.
Featherstonhaugh's experiences in America were as novel and entertaining
as a sojourn with Aborigines.

Just off the beach at Long Branch was a high bluff which descended
gradually to the sea, and at this point were several primitive bath
houses belonging to Mrs. Sairs' establishment. Following the prevalent
custom, we wore no bathing shoes and stockings, but, accompanied by a
stalwart bathing master, we enjoyed many dips in the briny deep, and
were brought safely back by him to our bath house. There was no
immodest lingering on the beach; this privilege was reserved for the
advanced civilization of a later day.

While I was still a young child, and some years after our visit to Long
Branch, my infant brother Malcolm became seriously ill. Dr. John W.
Francis, our family physician, prescribed a change of air for him, and
my parents took him to Newport. We found pleasant accommodations for our
family in a fashionable boarding house on Thames Street, the guests of
which were composed almost exclusively of Southern families. Newport was
then in an exceedingly primitive state and I have no recollection of
seeing either cottages or hotels, while modern improvements were
unknown. We led a simple outdoor life, taking our breakfast at eight,
dining at two and supping at six. It was indeed "early to bed and early
to rise."

As I recall these early days in Newport, two fascinating old ladies,
typical Southern gentlewomen, the Misses Philippa and Hetty Minus of
Savannah, present themselves vividly to my memory. After we returned to
our New York home we had the pleasure of meeting them again and
entertaining them. Another charming guest of our establishment was the
wife of James L. Pettigru, an eminent citizen of South Carolina. She was
the first woman of fashion presented to my girlish vision, and her mode
of life was a revelation. She kept very late hours, often lingering in
her room the next morning until midday. As I was then familiar with Miss
Edgeworth's books for young people, which all judicious parents
purchased for their children, I immediately designated Mrs. Pettigru as
"Lady Delacour," whose habits and fashions are so pleasingly described
in that admirable novel, "Belinda." Although born and bred in South
Carolina, Mr. Pettigru remained loyal to the Union, and after his death
his valuable library was purchased by Congress. The members of another
representative South Carolina family, the Allstons, were also among our
fellow boarders at Long Branch. This name always brings to mind the
pathetic history of Theodosia Burr, Aaron Burr's only child, and her sad
death; while the name of Washington Allston, the artist, is too well
known to be dwelt upon.

After a month's pleasant sojourn in Newport my brother's health had
materially improved and we returned to our New York home by the way of
Boston, where we were guests at the Tremont House. I blush to
acknowledge to the Bostonians who may peruse these pages that my chief
recollection of this visit is that I was standing on the steps of the
hotel, when I was accosted by a gentleman, who exclaimed: "You are a
Campbell, I'll bet ten thousand dollars!" I apologize for writing such a
personal reminiscence of such an historic town, but such are the freaks
of memory. This was prior to the maturer days of William Lloyd Garrison,
Wendell Phillips and Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Before passing on to other subjects I must not omit mentioning that at
this period the currency used in the New England States differed from
that of New York. This fact was brought vividly before me in Newport
when I made an outlay of a shilling at a candy store. In return for my
Mexican quarter of a dollar I was handed a small amount of change. I
left the shop fully convinced that I was a victim of sharp practice, but
learned later that there was a slight difference between the shilling
used in New York and that used in New England.

Many years later I visited Boston again, this time as the guest of Mr.
and Mrs. Robert C. Winthrop at their superb Brookline home; and,
escorted by Mr. Winthrop and Mr. and Mrs. Jabez L. M. Curry of Alabama,
who were also their house-guests, I visited all the points of historical
interest. Both Mr. Winthrop and Mr. Curry were then trustees of the
Peabody Fund. A few years after we separated in Boston Mr. and Mrs.
Curry went to Spain to reside, where, as American Minister, he was
present at the birth of King Alfonso of Spain.

About fifteen years later I again visited Newport, but this time I was a
full-fledged young woman. During my absence a large number of hotels and
cottages had been erected, many of which were occupied by Southern
families who still continued to regard this Rhode Island resort as
almost exclusively their own. I recall the names of many of them, all of
whom were conspicuous in social life in the South. Among them were the
Middletons, whose ancestors were historically prominent; the Pinckneys,
descended from the illustrious Charles Cotesworth Pinckney, who uttered
the well-known maxim, "Millions for defense but not one cent for
tribute;" the Izards; the Draytons, of South Carolina; and the
Habershams of Georgia. During this visit in Newport I was the guest, at
their summer cottage, of my life-long friends, the Misses Mary and
Margaret Gelston, daughters of Maltby Gelston, former President of the
Manhattan Bank of New York. Not far from the Gelstons resided what Sam
Weller would call three "widder women." They were sisters, the daughters
of Ralph Izard of Dorchester, S.C., and bore distinguished South
Carolina names; Mrs. Poinsett who had been the wife of Joel Roberts
Poinsett, the well-known statesman and Secretary of War under Van Buren,
Mrs. Eustis, the widow of Gen. Abram Eustis, U.S.A., who had served in
the War of 1812, and Mrs. Thomas Pinckney, whose husband, the nephew of
General Charles Cotesworth Pinckney, had been a wealthy rice planter in
South Carolina. The beautiful Christmas flower, the poinsettia, was
named in compliment to Mr. Poinsett. These interesting women for many
years were in the habit of leaving what they called their "Carolina"
home for a summer sojourn at Newport, where their house was one of the
social centers of attraction. With their graceful bearing, gentle voices
and cordial manners they were characteristic types of the Southern
_grandes dames_ now so seldom seen. A short distance from my hosts'
cottage lived the daughter of Charles Carroll of Carrollton, who was
also the widow of Robert Goodloe Harper, a prominent Federalist and a
United States Senator during the administrations of Madison and Monroe.
Mrs. Harper's sister married Richard Caton of Maryland, whose daughters
made such distinguished British matrimonial alliances. Her daughter,
Emily Harper, upon whose personality I love to dwell, was from her
earliest childhood endowed with strong religious traits. Her gentle
Christian character exemplified charity to all who were fortunate enough
to come within the radius of her influence. She was in every sense of
the word a deeply religious woman, and her influence upon those around
her was of the most elevating character.

I shall always remember with the keenest enjoyment some of the pleasant
teas at this hospitable home of the Harpers in Newport. All sects were
welcomed, Episcopalians, Presbyterians, Hebrews, Unitarians, and I doubt
not that an equally cordial reception would have awaited Mahommedans or
Hindoos. I once heard Miss Harper say that she shared with Chateaubriand
the ennobling sentiment that the salvation of one soul was of more value
than the conquest of a kingdom. Naturally the Harper cottage was the
rendezvous for Southerners and its hospitable roof sheltered many
prominent people, especially guests from Maryland. Mr. Maltby Gelston
told me at the time of this visit that Mrs. Harper was the only child of
a Signer then living. It is probable that he spoke from positive
knowledge, as he was an authority upon the subject, having married the
granddaughter of Philip Livingston, a New York Signer. A few years
later, when I was married in Washington, D.C., I was deeply gratified
when Miss Harper came from Baltimore to attend my wedding. The marked
attentions paid to her by Caleb Cushing, then Attorney-General under
President Pierce, were the source of much gossip, but she seemed
entirely indifferent to his devotion. I once heard him express great
annoyance after a trip to Baltimore because he failed to see her on
account of a headache with which she was said to be suffering, and he
inquired of me in a petulant manner whether headaches were an universal
feminine malady. Like her mother, she lived to a very advanced age and
when she departed this life the world lost one of its saintliest
characters.

One of the most attractive cottages in Newport at the time of my second
visit was occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Henry Casimir de Rham of New York. It
was densely shaded by a number of graceful silver-maple trees. Mr. de
Rham was a prosperous merchant of Swiss extraction, whose wife was Miss
Maria Theresa Moore, a member of one of New York's most prominent
families and a niece of Bishop Benjamin Moore of New York.

The social leaders of Newport at this period were Mr. and Mrs. Robert
Morgan Gibbes, whose winter home was in New York. Mr. Gibbes, who, by
the way, was a great-uncle of William Waldorf Astor, was a South
Carolinian by birth and had married Miss Emily Oliver of Paterson, New
Jersey. They lived in a handsome house, gave sumptuous entertainments,
and had an interesting family of daughters, several of whom I knew quite
well. One well-remembered evening I attended a party at their house
which was regarded as the social affair of the season. It made a lasting
impression upon my mind owing to a trivial circumstance which seems
hardly worth relating. It was the first time I had ever seen mottoes
used at entertainments, and at this party they were exceptionally
handsome. The one which fell to my share, and which I treasured for some
time, bore upon it a large bunch of red currants. These favors were
always imported, and a few years later became so fashionable that no
dinner or supper table was regarded as quite the proper thing without
them. I take it for granted that this custom was the origin of the
german favors which in the course of time came into such general use.

In 1853 I made a third visit to Newport as the guest of Mrs. Winfield
Scott. General Scott's headquarters were then in Washington, but, as his
military views were widely divergent from those of Jefferson Davis,
President Pierce's Secretary of War, he was urging the President to
transfer him to New York. I have frequently heard the General jocosely
remark that he longed for a Secretary of War who would not "make him
cry." The Scotts at this period were spending their winters in
Washington and their summers in Newport. Meanwhile his numerous
admirers, in recognition of his distinguished services, presented him
with a house on West Twelfth Street which was occupied by him and his
family after his transfer to New York. The principal donor of this
residence was the Hon. Hamilton Fish.

After a charming sojourn of several weeks in Newport, I was about
returning to my home when I casually invited General Scott's youngest
daughter, Marcella ("Ella"), then only a schoolgirl, to accompany me to
Miss Harper's cottage, as I wished to say good-bye. Upon entering the
drawing-room a cousin and guest of Miss Harper's, Charles Carroll
McTavish of Howard County, Maryland, appeared upon the threshold and was
introduced to us. He was then approaching middle life and I learned
later that he had served some years in the Russian Army. Marcella
Scott's appearance apparently fascinated him from the moment they met,
and from that day he began to be devotedly attentive to her. Mrs. Scott,
however, entirely disapproved of Mr. McTavish's attentions to her
daughter on account of her extreme youth. A few months later Marcella
returned to Madame Chegaray's school, where she became a boarding pupil
and was not allowed to see visitors. The following winter she was taken
ill with typhoid fever, and, when convalescent enough to be moved, was
brought to my home in Houston Street, New York, to recuperate, as the
Scotts were still living in Washington and the journey was considered
too long and arduous to be taken by an invalid. Meanwhile, Mr. McTavish
renewed his attentions to Miss Scott and the impression made was more
than a passing fancy for in the following June they were married in the
Twelfth Street house of which I have already spoken, General Scott
having in the interim succeeded in having his headquarters removed to
New York.

I had the pleasure of being present at this wedding, which, in spite of
a warm day in June and the many absentees from the city, was one of
exceptional brilliancy. The Army and Navy were well represented, the
officers of both branches of the service appearing in full-dress
uniform. The hour appointed for the ceremony was high noon, but an
amusing _contretemps_ blocked the way. An incorrigible mantua-maker,
faithless to all promises and regardless of every sense of propriety,
failed to send home the bridal dress at the appointed time. This state
of affairs proved decidedly embarrassing, but the guests were informed
of the cause of the delay and patiently awaited developments. Behind the
scenes, however, quite a different spectacle was presented, while amid
much bustle and excitement a second wedding gown was being hurriedly
prepared. After an hour's delay, however, the belated garment arrived,
when the bride-elect was quickly dressed and walked into the large
drawing-room in all of her bridal finery, leaning, as was then the
custom, upon the arm of the groom. Archbishop Hughes conducted the
wedding service, and seized upon the auspicious occasion to make an
address of some length. Previous to the ceremony, my intimate friend,
the young bride's older sister, Cornelia Scott, who a few years
previous had become while in Rome a convert to Catholicism, asked me
with much earnestness of manner to do my best to entertain the
Archbishop, as she thought, in her kind way, that he might be somewhat
out of his element when surrounded by such a large and fashionable
assemblage. This was, indeed, a pleasing task, as it enabled me to renew
my earlier acquaintance with this gifted prelate. The only member of the
groom's family present at this ceremony was his handsome brother,
Alexander S. McTavish, who came from Baltimore for the occasion. Strange
to say, in view of the many presents usually displayed upon such
occasions nowadays, I do not remember, although I was a family guest,
seeing or hearing of a single bridal gift, but some of the wedding
guests I recall very distinctly. Among them were Mr. and Mrs. Charles
King, the former of whom was President of Columbia College and an
intimate friend of General Scott's; Mr. and Mrs. Robert Ray, whose
daughter Cornelia married Major Schuyler Hamilton, aide-de-camp to
General Scott during the Mexican war; Prof. Clement C. Moore and his
daughter Theresa; Mr. and Mrs. Edward Mayo of Elizabeth, N.J., the
former of whom was Mrs. Scott's brother; Mrs. Robert Henry Cabell, a
sister of Mrs. Scott's from Richmond; Major Thomas Williams, an aide to
General Scott, who was killed during the Civil War; and Major Henry L.
Scott, aide and son-in-law of General Scott.

The same evening, after the wedding guests had departed and quiet again
reigned supreme in the household, I went to Mrs. Scott's room to sit
with her, as she seemed sad and lonely, and at the same time to talk
over with her, womanlike, the events of the day. In our quiet
conversation I remember referring to Archbishop Hughes's address to the
groom, and asked her if she had observed that he had dwelt upon the
bride "being taken from an affectionate father," while the remaining
members of the family were entirely ignored. Mrs. Scott immediately
bristled up and with much warmth of feeling said that she had noticed
the omission and believed that the action of the Archbishop was
premeditated. Just here was an undercurrent which as an intimate friend
of the family I fully understood. After Virginia Scott's death at the
Georgetown Convent Mrs. Scott was most outspoken in her denunciation of
the Roman Catholic Church, which she felt had robbed her of her
daughter.

Some years after his marriage Charles Carroll McTavish applied to the
Legislature of Maryland for permission to drop his surname and to assume
that of his great-grandfather, Charles Carroll. As this request was
strenuously opposed by other descendants of the Signer, who regarded it
as inexpedient to increase the number of Charles Carrolls, the petition
of Mr. McTavish was not granted. Mary Wellesley McTavish, his sister, I
remember as a sprightly young woman of fine appearance. She made her
_debut_ in London society as the guest of her aunt, Mary McTavish, wife
of the Marquis of Wellesley. After a brief courtship she married Henry
George Howard, a son of the Earl of Carlisle, and accompanied him to the
Netherlands, where he was the accredited British Minister. Mrs. George
Bancroft, wife of the historian, who accompanied her husband when he was
our Minister to England, gave me an interesting sketch of Mrs. Howard's
varied life. Death finally claimed her in Paris and her body was brought
back to this country and buried in Maryland, the home of her youth. Her
mother, who brought the remains across the ocean, soon after her
bereavement, established "The House of the Good Shepherd" in Baltimore.

Three daughters of Mr. and Mrs. Charles Carroll McTavish grew into
womanhood. The elder sisters, Mary and Emily, both of whom were well
known for their beauty and vivacity, entered upon cloistered lives. Just
as the two sisters were about taking this step, they made a request,
which caused much comment, to the effect that they should be assigned to
different convents. I understand that Mrs. McTavish, their mother, is
still living in Rome with the unmarried daughter. During Mrs. Scott's
residence in Paris she was invited to witness the ceremony of "taking
the veil" at a prominent convent, and writing to her family at home she
remarked: "How strange that human beings, knowing the fickleness of
their natures, should bind themselves for life to one limited space and
unvarying mode of existence."

Hoboken, or, as it was sometimes called, Paulus Hook, was a great resort
in my earlier life for residents of the great metropolis. We children,
accompanied by my father or some other grown person, delighted to roam
in that locality over what was most appropriately termed the "Elysian
Fields." Professional landscape-gardening had not then been thought of,
but nature's achievements often surpass the embellishments of man. Our
cup of happiness was full to the brim when we were taken to this
entrancing spot overlooking the Hudson River, with its innumerable
sloops, steamboats and tugs adding so much to the picturesqueness of the
scene. As we strolled along, we regaled ourselves every now and then
with a refreshing glass of mead, a concoction of honey and cold water,
purchased from a passing vender; and when cakes or candy were added to
the refreshing drink life seemed very _couleur de rose_ to our childish
dreams. Then again we made occasional trips up the river, but the
steamboats and other excursion craft of that day were of course mere
pigmies compared with those of the present time. The cabin always had a
large dining table, on either side of which was a line of berths. Guests
were called to dinner at one o'clock by the vigorous ringing of a large
bell in the hands of a  waiter dressed in a white apron and
jacket. I have often thought how surprised and pleased this old-time
servant, universally seen in every well-to-do household in those days,
would be if he could return to earth and hear himself addressed as
"butler."

It was upon one of these trips up the Hudson that the widow of General
Alexander Hamilton and her daughter, Mrs. Hamilton Holly, were taking
their mid-day repast, at one end of the long table, when they were
informed that Aaron Burr was partaking of the same meal not far from
them. Their indignation was boundless, and immediately there were two
vacant chairs. Mrs. Holly was a woman of strong intellect, and a
friendship which I formed with her is one of the most cherished memories
of my life. She devoted her widowhood to the care of her aged mother. We
often engaged in confidential conversations, when she would discuss the
tragedies which so clouded her life. I especially remember her dwelling
upon the sad history of her sister, Angelica Hamilton, who, she told me,
was in the bloom of health and surrounded by everything that goes
towards making life happy when her eldest brother, Philip Hamilton, was
killed in a duel. He had but recently been graduated from Columbia
College and lost his life in 1801 on the same spot where, about three
years later, his father was killed by Aaron Burr. This dreadful event
affected her so deeply that her mind became unbalanced, and she was
finally placed in an asylum, where she died at a very advanced age. Mrs.
Hamilton lived in Washington, D.C., in one of the De Menou buildings on
H Street, between Thirteenth and Fourteenth Streets, and Mrs. Holly
resided in the same city until her death.

Tragedy seemed to pursue the Hamilton family with unrelenting
perseverance until the third generation. In 1858 the legislature of
Virginia, desiring that every native President should repose upon
Virginia soil, made an appropriation for removing the remains of James
Monroe from New York to Richmond. He died on the 4th of July, 1831,
while temporarily residing in New York with his daughter, Mrs. Samuel L.
Gouverneur, and his body was placed in the Gouverneur vault in the
Marble Cemetery on Second Street, east of Second Avenue, where it
remained for nearly thirty years. The disinterment of the remains of
this distinguished statesman was conducted with much pomp and ceremony
and the body placed on board of the steamer _Jamestown_ and conveyed to
Richmond, accompanied all the way by the 7th Regiment of New York which
acted as a guard of honor. The orator of the occasion was John Cochrane,
a distinguished member of the New York bar; while Henry A. Wise, then
Governor of Virginia, delivered an appropriate address at the grave in
Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond. My husband, Samuel L. Gouverneur,
junior, Monroe's grandson, accompanied the remains as the representative
of the family. After the ceremonies in Richmond were completed, but
before the 7th Regiment had embarked upon its homeward voyage, one of
its members, Laurens Hamilton, a grandson of Alexander Hamilton and a
son of John C. Hamilton, was drowned near Richmond. All the proceedings
connected with the removal of Mr. Monroe's remains, both in New York and
in Richmond, were published some years later by Udolpho Wolfe, a
neighbor and admirer of the late President. A copy of the book was
presented to each member of the 7th Regiment and one of them was also
given by the compiler to my husband. A few years later this same New
York regiment invaded Virginia, but under greatly different
circumstances. A terrible civil war was raging, and the Old Dominion for
a time was its principal battle ground.

I recall an amusing anecdote which Mr. Gouverneur told me upon his
return from this visit to Richmond. While the great concourse of people
was still assembled at Monroe's grave in Hollywood Cemetery, Governor
Henry A. Wise, always proud of his State, remarked: "Now we must have
all the native Presidents of Virginia buried within this inclosure."
Immediately a vigorous hand was placed on his shoulder by a New York
alderman who had accompanied the funeral _cortege_, who exclaimed in
characteristic Bowery vernacular: "Go ahead, Governor, you'll fotch
'em."

The only mode of travel on the Hudson River in my early days was by
boat. One of my recollections is seeing Captain Vanderbilt in command of
a steamboat. I have heard older members of my family say that he
designated himself "Captain Wanderbilt," and that his faithful wife's
endearing mode of accosting him was "Corneil." At any rate, it is
well-known that he began life by operating a rowboat ferry between
Staten Island and New York. In later years a sailboat was substituted
over this same route. The Hudson River Railroad was originally built
under the direction of a number of prominent men in the State who were
anything but skilled in such enterprises. In the beginning of its
career, while high officials bestowed fat offices upon friends and
relatives, its finances were in a chaotic condition. It was during this
state of affairs that Commodore Vanderbilt, with a master mind, grasped
the situation and reorganized the whole system, thereby greatly
increasing his own fortune, and placing the railroad upon a sound
financial basis. After such a remarkable career "blindness to the
future" seems unkindly given, as doubtless it would have been a source
of great satisfaction to this Vanderbilt progenitor could he have known
before passing onward that his hard-earned wealth would eventually
enrich his descendants, even the representatives of nobility.

I have before me an invitation to a New York Assembly, dated the 29th of
January, 1841, addressed to my father and mother, which has followed my
wanderings through seventy years. All of the managers, a list of whom I
give, were representative citizens as well as prominent society men of
the day:

     Abm. Schermerhorn,      J. Swift Livingston,
     Edmd. Pendleton,        Jacob R. LeRoy,
     James W. Otis,          Thos. W. Ludlow,
     Wm. Douglas,            Chas. McEvers, Jr.,
     Henry Delafield,        William S. Miller,
     Henry W. Hicks,         Charles C. King.

Abraham Schermerhorn belonged to a wealthy New York family, and Edmund
Pendleton was a Virginian by birth who resided in New York where he
became socially prominent. James W. Otis was of the Harrison Gray Otis
family of Boston and, as I have already stated, I was at school with his
daughter, Sally. William Douglas was a bachelor living in an attractive
residence on Park Place, where he occasionally entertained his friends.
He belonged to a thrifty family of Scotch descent and had two sisters,
Mrs. Douglas Cruger and Mrs. James Monroe, whose husband was a namesake
and nephew of the ex-President. Early in the last century their mother,
Mrs. George Douglas, gave a ball, and I insert some doggerel with
reference to it written by Miss Anne Macmaster, who later became Mrs.
Charles Russell Codman of Boston. These verses are interesting from the
fact that they give the names of many of the _belles_ and _beaux_ of
that time:

    I meant, my dear Fanny, to give you a call
    And tell you the news of the Douglases ball;
    But the weather's so bad,--I've a cold in my head,--
    And I daren't venture out; so I send you instead
    A poetic epistle--for plain humble prose
    Is not worthy the joys of this ball to disclose.
    To begin with our entrance, we came in at nine,
    The two rooms below were prodigiously fine,
    And the _coup d'oeil_ was shewy and brilliant 'tis true,
    Pretty faces not wanting, some old and some new.
    But, oh! my dear cousin, no words can describe
    The excess of the crowd--like two swarms in one hive.
    The squeezing and panting, the blowing and puffing,
    The smashing, the crushing, the snatching, the stuffing,
    I'd have given my new dress, at one time, I declare,
    (The white satin and roses), for one breath of air!
    But oh! how full often I inwardly sighed
    O'er the wreck of those roses, so lately my pride;
    Those roses, my own bands so carefully placed,
    As I fondly believed, with such exquisite taste.
    Then to see them so cruelly torn and destroyed
    I assure you, my dear, I was vastly annoyed.
    The ballroom with garlands was prettily drest,
    But a small room for dancing it must be confess'd,
    If you chanc'd to get in you were lucky no doubt,
    But oh! luckier far, if you chanced to get out!
    And pray who were there? Is the question you'll ask.
    To name the one half would be no easy task--
    There were Bayards and Clarksons, Van Hornes and LeRoys,
    All famous, you well know, for making a noise.
    There were Livingstons, Lenoxes, Henrys and Hoffmans,
    And Crugers and Carys, Barnewalls and Bronsons,
    Delanceys and Dyckmans and little De Veaux,
    Gouverneurs and Goelets and Mr. Picot,
    And multitudes more that would tire me to reckon,
    But I must not forget the pretty Miss Whitten.
    No particular belle claimed the general attention,
    There were many, however, most worthy of mention.
    The lily of Leonards' might hold the first place
    For sweetness of manner, and beauty and grace.
    Her cousin Eliza and little Miss Gitty
    Both danc'd very lightly, and looked very pretty.
    The youngest Miss Mason attracted much notice,
    So did Susan Le Roy and the English Miss Otis;
    Of _Beaux_ there were plenty, some new ones 'tis true,
    But I won't mention names, no, not even to you.
    I was lucky in getting good partners, however,
    Above all, the two Emmetts, so lively and clever.
    With Morris and Maitland I danc'd; and with Sedgwick,
    Martin Wilkins, young Armstrong and droll William Renwick.
    The old lady was mightily deck'd for the Ball
    With Harriet's pearls--and the little one's shawl;
    But to give her her due she was civil enough,
    Only tiresome in asking the people to stuff.
    There was supper at twelve for those who could get it,
    I came in too late, but I did not regret it,
    For eating at parties was never my passion,
    And I'm sorry to see that it's so much the fashion.
    After supper, for dancing we'd plenty of room,
    And so pleasant it was, that I did not get home
    Until three--when the ladies began to look drowsy,
    The lamps to burn dim, and the Laird to grow boosy.
    The ball being ended, I've no more to tell--
    And so, my dear Fanny, I bid you farewell.

In the old pamphlet from which I have already quoted, edited in 1845 by
Moses Y. Beach and compiled for the purpose of furnishing information
concerning the status of New York citizens to banks, merchants and
others, I find the following amusing description of George Douglas:
"George Douglas was a Scotch merchant who hoarded closely. His wine
cellar was more extensive than his library. When George used to see
people speculating and idle it distressed him. He would say: 'People get
too many _idees_ in their head. Why don't they work?' What a blessing he
is not alive in this moonshine age of dreamy schemings." Mr. Beach
apparently was not capable of appreciating a thrifty Scotchman.

This same pamphlet gives an account of a picturesque character whom I
distinctly remember as a highly prominent citizen of New York. His
parentage was involved in mystery, and has remained so until this day. I
refer to Mr. Preserved Fish, the senior member of the firm of Fish,
Grinnell & Co., which subsequently became the prominent business house
of Grinnell, Minturn & Co. Sustained by the apparel peculiar to infants,
he was found floating in the water by some New Bedford fishermen who,
unable to discover his identity, bestowed upon him the uncouth name
which, willingly or unwillingly, he bore until the day of his death. He
and the other members of his firm were originally from New Bedford, one
of the chief centers of the whale fisheries of New England, and came to
New York to attend to the oil and candle industries of certain merchants
of the former city. Few business men in New York in my day were more
highly respected for indomitable energy and personal integrity than Mr.
Fish. He became President of the Tradesmen's Bank, and held other
positions of responsibility and trust. He represented an ideal type of
the self-made man, and in spite of an unknown origin and a ridiculous
name battled successfully with life without a helping hand.

In connection with the Douglas family, I recall a beautiful wedding
reception which, as well as I can remember, took place in the autumn of
1850, at Fanwood, Fort Washington, then a suburb of New York. The bride
was Fanny Monroe, a daughter of Colonel James Monroe, U.S.A., and
granddaughter of Mrs. Douglas of whose ball I have just spoken. The
groom was Douglas Robinson, a native of Scotland. It was a gorgeous
autumn day when the votaries of pleasure and fashion in New York drove
out to Fanwood, where groomsmen of social prominence stood upon the wide
portico to greet the guests and conduct them to the side of the newly
married pair. Mrs. Winfield Scott was our guest in Houston Street at the
time, but did not accompany us to the wedding as no invitation had
reached her. My presence reminded Mrs. Monroe that Mrs. Scott was in New
York, and she immediately inquired why I had not brought her with me. As
I gave the reason both Colonel and Mrs. Monroe seemed exceedingly
annoyed. It seems that her invitation had been sent to Washington but
had not been forwarded to her in New York. In those days Mrs. Scott's
distinguished presence and sparkling repartee, together with the fact
that her husband was Commander-in-Chief of the Army, added luster to
every assemblage. The Army was well represented at this reception and it
was truly "the feast of reason and the flow of soul." Colonel "Jimmy"
Monroe was a great favorite with his former brother-in-arms as he was a
genial, whole-souled and hospitable gentleman. My sister Margaret and I
were accompanied to Fanwood by an army officer, Colonel Donald Fraser, a
bachelor whom I had met some years before at West Point. The paths of
the bride and myself diverged, and it was a very long time before we met
again. It was only a few years ago, while she was residing temporarily
in Washington. She was then, however, a widow and was living in great
retirement. She is now deceased.

When we alighted from our carriage the day of the Monroe-Robinson
wedding at Fanwood a young man whom I subsequently learned was Mr.
Samuel L. Gouverneur, junior, a cousin of the bride, walked over to me,
asked my name and in his capacity of groomsman inquired whether I would
allow him to present me to the bride. I was particularly impressed by
his appearance, as it was unusually attractive. He had raven-black hair,
large bluish-gray eyes and regular features; but what added to his charm
in my youthful fancy was the fact that he had only recently returned
from the Mexican War, in which, as I learned later, he had served with
great gallantry in the 4th Artillery. I had never seen him before,
although in thinking the matter over a few days later I remembered that
I had met his mother and sister in society in New York. I did not see
him again until five years later, when our paths crossed in Washington,
and in due time I became his bride.

To return to the New York Assembly in 1841. Henry Delafield, whose name
appears on the card of invitation, belonged to a well-known family. His
father, an Englishman by birth, settled in New York in 1783 and is
described in an early city directory as "John Delafield, Insurance
Broker, 29 Water Street." The Delafields were a large family of brothers
and were highly prosperous. I remember once hearing Dr. John W. Francis
say: "Put a Delafield on a desert island in the middle of the ocean,
and he will thrive and prosper." Henry Delafield and his brother William
were almost inseparable. They were twins and strikingly alike in
appearance. General Richard Delafield, U.S.A., for many years
Superintendent of the Military Academy at West Point, was another
brother, as was also Dr. Edward Delafield, a physician of note, who
lived in Bleecker Street and in 1839 married Miss Julia Floyd of Long
Island, a granddaughter of William Floyd, one of the New York Signers.
About thirty-five years ago three of the Delafield brothers, Joseph,
Henry and Edward, all advanced in life, died within a few days of each
other and were buried in Greenwood Cemetery at the same time, the
funeral taking place from old Trinity Church. On this occasion all the
old customs were observed, and the coffins were made of solid mahogany.

[Illustration: SAMUEL L. GOUVERNEUR, JUNIOR.]

John Swift Livingston lived in Leonard Street, and I recall very
pleasantly a party which I attended at his house before the marriage of
his daughter Estelle to General John Watts de Peyster. The latter,
together with his first cousins, General "Phil" Kearny and Mrs.
Alexander Macomb, inherited an enormous fortune from his grandfather
John Watts, who was one of the most prominent men of his day and the
founder of the Leake and Watts Orphan House, which is still in
existence. John G. Leake was an Englishman who came to New York to live
and, dying without heirs, left his fortune to Robert Watts, a minor son
of John Watts. Robert Watts, however, did not long survive his
benefactor. Upon his death the Leake will was contested by his
relatives, but a decision was rendered in favor of the nearest kin of
the boy, who was his father. After gaining his victory John Watts
established this Orphan House and with true magnanimity placed Leake's
name before his own. Jacob R. LeRoy lived in Greenwich Street near the
Battery, which at this time was a fashionable section of the city.
His sister Caroline, whom I knew, became the second wife of Daniel
Webster. Mr. LeRoy's daughter Charlotte married Rev. Henry de Koven,
whose son is the musical genius, Reginald de Koven. Henry W. Hicks was
the son of a prominent Quaker merchant and a member of the firm of Hicks
& Co., which did an enormous shipping business until its suspension,
about 1847, owing to foreign business embarrassments. Thomas W. Ludlow
was a wealthy citizen, genial and most hospitably inclined. He owned a
handsome country-seat near Tarrytown, and every now and then it was his
pleasure to charter a steamboat to convey his guests thither; and I
recall several pleasant days I spent in this manner. When we reached the
Tarrytown home a fine collation always awaited us and in its wake came
music and dancing. Charles McEvers, junior, belonged to an old New York
family and was one of the executors of the Vanden Heuvel estate. His
niece, Mary McEvers, married Sir Edward Cunard, who was knighted by
Queen Victoria. William Starr Miller married a niece of Philip Schuyler,
who was a woman possessing many excellent traits of character. As far as
I can remember, she was the only divorced person of those days who was
well received in society, for people with "past histories" were then
regarded with marked disfavor.




CHAPTER VI

SOME DISTINGUISHED ACQUAINTANCES


In close proximity to St. John's Park, during my early life on Hubert
Street, there resided a Frenchman named Laurent Salles, and I have a
vivid recollection of a notable marriage which was solemnized in his
mansion. The groom, Lispenard Stewart, married his daughter, Miss Louise
Stephanie Salles, but the young and pretty bride survived her marriage
for only a few years. She left two children, one of whom is Mrs.
Frederick Graham Lee, whom I occasionally see in Washington, where with
her husband she spends her winters.

When playing in St. John's Park in this same neighborhood, I made the
acquaintance of Margaret Tillotson Kemble, one of the young daughters of
William Kemble already mentioned as living on Beach Street, opposite
that Park. Mr. Kemble was the son of Peter Kemble, member of the
prominent firm of "Gouverneur and Kemble," shipping merchants of New
York, which traded with China and other foreign countries. This firm,
the senior members of which were the brothers Nicholas and Isaac
Gouverneur, was bound together by a close family tie, as Mrs. Peter
Kemble was Gertrude Gouverneur, a sister of the two Gouverneur brothers.
My intimacy with Margaret Tillotson Kemble, formed almost from the
cradle, lasted without a break throughout life. She was a second cousin
of my husband and married Charles J. Nourse, a member of the old
Georgetown, D.C., family. The last years of her life were entirely
devoted to good works. Her sister, Mary, married Dr. Frederick D. Lente,
at one time physician to the West Point foundry, at Cold Spring, N.Y.,
and subsequently a distinguished general practitioner in New York and
Saratoga Springs. Ellen Kemble, the other sister, of whom I have already
spoken, never married. She was eminent for her piety, and her whole life
was largely devoted to works of charity.

The Kemble house on Beach Street was always a social center and I think
I can truthfully say it was more than a second home to me. Mrs. William
Kemble, who was Miss Margaret Chatham Seth of Maryland, was a woman of
decided social tastes and a most efficient assistant to her husband in
dispensing hospitality. Gathered around her hearthstone was a large
family of girls and boys who naturally added much brightness to the
household. Mr. Kemble was a well-known patron of art and his house
became the rendezvous for persons of artistic tastes. It was in his
drawing-room that I met William Cullen Bryant; Charles B. King of
Washington, whose portraits are so well known; John Gadsby Chapman, who
painted the "Baptism of Pocahontas," now in the rotunda of the Capitol
at Washington; Asher B. Durand, the celebrated artist; and Mr. Kemble's
brother-in-law, James K. Paulding, who at the time was Secretary of the
Navy under President Martin Van Buren. Mr. Kemble was one of the
founders of the Century Club of New York, a life member of the Academy
of Design, and in 1817, at the age of twenty-one, in conjunction with
his older brother, Gouverneur Kemble, established the West Point
foundry, which for a long period received heavy ordnance contracts from
the United States government. The famous Parrott guns were manufactured
there. Captain Robert P. Parrott, their inventor and an army officer,
married Mary Kemble, a sister of Gouverneur and William Kemble, who in
early life was regarded as a beauty. Mr. William Kemble, apart from his
artistic tastes, owned a number of fine pictures, among which was a
Sappho by a Spanish master. It was given to Mrs. Kemble by the
grandfather of the late Rear Admiral Richard W. Meade, U.S.N. When the
Kemble family left Beach Street and moved to West Twenty-fifth Street
this picture was sold to Gouverneur Kemble for $5,000, and placed in his
extensive picture gallery at Cold Spring.

Mrs. William Kemble was a woman of marked ability and an able
_raconteurse_. Early in life she had been left an orphan and was brought
up by her maternal uncle, Dr. Thomas Tillotson of the Eastern shore of
Maryland, whose wife was Margaret Livingston, a daughter of Judge Robert
R. Livingston and a sister of Chancellor Robert R. Livingston. Another
sister of Mrs. Tillotson was the widow of General Richard Montgomery, of
the Revolutionary War, who fell at the battle of Quebec. The Tillotsons,
Livingstons and Montgomerys all owned fine residences near Hyde Park on
the Hudson; and a close intimacy existed between the Tillotsons and the
Kembles owing to the fact that Mr. Kemble's first cousin, Emily
Gouverneur, married Mrs. Kemble's first cousin, Robert Livingston
Tillotson. William Kemble's younger brother, Richard Frederick, married
Miss Charlotte Morris, daughter of James Morris of Morrisania, N.Y.

The summer home of William Kemble was in a large grove of trees at Cold
Spring and life under its roof was indeed an ideal existence. I was
their constant guest and although it was a simple life it teemed with
beauty and interest. Our days were spent principally out of doors and
the sources of amusement were always near at hand. As all of the Kembles
were experts with the oar, we frequently spent many hours on the Hudson.
Another unfailing source of pleasure was a frequent visit to West Point
to witness the evening parade. As we knew many of the cadets they
frequently crossed the river to take an informal meal or enjoy an hour's
talk on the attractive lawn. Lieutenant Colonel (subsequently General)
William J. Hardee, who for a long time was Commandant of Cadets at West
Point, I knew quite well. Later in his career he was ordered to
Washington, where as a widower he became a social lion, devoting himself
chiefly to Isabella Cass, a daughter of General Lewis Cass. His career
in the Confederate Army is too well known for me to relate. After the
Civil War I never saw him again, as he lived in the South. During one of
my visits at the Kembles General Robert E. Lee was the Superintendent of
the West Point Military Academy, but of him I shall speak hereafter.

Among the cadets whom I recall are Henry Heth of Virginia, an officer
who was subsequently highly esteemed in the Army, and who, at the
breaking out of the Civil War, followed the fortunes of his native state
and became a Major General in the Confederate Army; Innis N. Palmer,
whom I met many years later in Washington when he had attained the rank
of General; and Cadet Daniel M. Beltzhoover of Pennsylvania, a musical
genius, who was a source of great pleasure to us but whose career I have
not followed.

At this period in the history of West Point Cozzen's Hotel was the only
hostelry within the military enclosure. A man named Benny Havens kept a
store in close proximity to the Military Academy, but as it was not upon
government territory no cadet was allowed to enter the premises.
Although liquor was his principal stock in trade he kept other articles
of merchandise, but only as a cover for his unlawful traffic. The cadets
had their weaknesses then as now, and as this shop was "forbidden fruit"
many of them visited his resort under the cover of darkness. If caught
there "after taps," the punishment was dismissal. The following
selections from a dozen verses written by Lieutenant Lucius O'Brien,
U.S.A., and others, which I remember hearing the cadets frequently sing,
were set to the tune of "Wearing of the Green":

    Come, fill your glasses, fellows, and stand up in a row,
    To singing sentimentally, we're going for to go;
    In the army there's sobriety, promotion's very slow,
    So we'll sing our reminiscences of Benny Havens, oh!

      Oh, Benny Havens, oh!--oh! Benny Havens oh!
      So we'll sing our reminiscences of Benny Havens, oh!

           *       *       *       *       *

    Come, fill up to our Generals, God bless the brave heroes,
    They're an honor to their country and a terror to her foes;
    May they long rest on their laurels and trouble never know,
    But live to see a thousand years at Benny Havens, oh!

    Here's a health to General Taylor, whose "rough and ready" blow
    Struck terror to the _rancheros_ of braggart Mexico;
    May his country ne'er forget his deeds, and ne'er forget to show
    She holds him worthy of a place at Benny Havens, oh!

    To the "veni vidi vici" man, to Scott, the great hero,
    Fill up the goblet to the brim, let no one shrinking go;
    May life's cares on his honored head fall light as flakes of snow,
    And his fair fame be ever great at Benny Havens, oh!

Lieutenant O'Brien died in the winter of 1841 and the following verse to
his memory was fittingly added to his song:

    From the courts of death and danger from Tampa's deadly shore,
    There comes a wail of manly grief, "O'Brien is no more,"
    In the land of sun and flowers his head lies pillowed low,
    No more he'll sing "Petite Coquette" or Benny Havens, oh!

Since then numerous other verses have been added, from time to time,
and, for aught I know to the contrary, the composition is still growing.
After the death of General Scott in 1866 the following verse was added:

    Another star has faded, we miss its brilliant glow,
    For the veteran Scott has ceased to be a soldier here below;
    And the country which he honored now feels a heart-felt woe,
    As we toast his name in reverence at Benny Havens, oh!

I wish that I could recall more of these lines as some of the prominent
men of the Army were introduced in the most suggestive fashion. Benny
Havens doubtless has been sleeping his last sleep for these many years,
but I am sure that some of these verses are still remembered by many of
the surviving graduates of West Point.

In the vicinity of William Kemble's cottage at Cold Spring was the
permanent home of his older brother, Gouverneur Kemble. For a few years
during his earlier life he served as U.S. Consul at Cadiz, under the
administration of President Monroe. His Cold Spring home was of historic
interest and for many years was the scene of lavish hospitality. General
Scott once remarked that he was "the most perfect gentleman in the
United States." The most distinguished men of the day gathered around
his table, and every Saturday night through the entire year a special
dinner was served at five o'clock--Mr. Kemble despised the habitual
three o'clock dinners of his neighbors--which in time became historic
entertainments. This meal was always served in the picture gallery, an
octagonal room filled with valuable paintings, while breakfast and
luncheon were served in an adjoining room. All of the professors and
many of the officers at West Point, whom Mr. Kemble facetiously termed
"the boys," had a standing invitation to these Saturday evening dinners.
There was an agreement, however, among the younger officers that too
many of them should not partake of his hospitality at the same time, as
his dining table would not accommodate more than thirty guests. How well
I remember these older men, all of whom were officers in the Regular
Army: Professors William H. C. Bartlett, Dennis H. Mahan, the father of
Captain Alfred T. Mahan, U.S.N., Albert E. Church, and Robert W. Weir.
If by any chance Mr. Kemble, or "Uncle Gouv," as he was generally known
to the family connection, was obliged to be absent from home, these
entertainments took place just the same, presided over by his sister,
Mrs. Robert P. Parrott. Indeed, I recall that during a tour of Europe
Mr. Kemble made with ex-President Van Buren these Saturday dinner
parties were continued for at least a year.

Carving was considered a fine art in those days, an accomplishment which
has largely gone out of style since the introduction of dinner _a la
Russe_. A law existed in Putnam County, in which Cold Spring is
situated, which forbade the killing of game during certain months in the
year. When a transgressor of this law succeeded in "laying low" a pair
of pheasants, they were nicknamed "owls"; and I have seen two "owls"
which, under these circumstances, were almost unobtainable, carved in
such a proficient manner by "Uncle Gouv" that, although we numbered over
a score, each person received a "satisfying" piece. His guests were most
appreciative of his hospitality, and I once heard General Scott say that
he would be willing to walk at least ten miles to be present at a dinner
at Gouverneur Kemble's. His wines were always well selected as well as
abundant. I have often known him to have a house party of many guests
who had the privilege of remaining indefinitely if they so desired. The
actress Fanny Kemble and her father, though not related to the New York
family, were guests in his home during one of their visits to America.
She was a great pedestrian, and I recall having a small stream of water
in the vicinity of Cold Spring called to my notice where, during her
rambles, she was known to stop and bathe her feet.

Long before the War of the Revolution, Mr. Kemble's aunt, Margaret
Kemble, married General Thomas Gage, Commander-in-Chief of the British
forces in that conflict, and resided with him in England. While I was
living in Frederick, Maryland, I sent "Uncle Gouv"--he was then an old
man and very appreciative of any attention--a photograph of Whittier's
heroine, Barbara Frietchie. He in turn sent it to Viscount Henry Gage, a
relative of the British General. The English nobleman who was familiar
with the Quaker poet seemed highly pleased to own the picture and
commented favorably upon the firm expression of the mouth and chin of
this celebrated woman.

Army officers were frequently stationed at Cold Spring to inspect the
guns cast at the Kemble foundry. Among these I recall with much pleasure
Major Alfred Mordecai of the Ordnance Corps. He was a highly efficient
officer and previous to the Civil War rendered conspicuous service to
his country. He was a Southerner and at the beginning of the war is said
to have requested the War Department to order him to some duty which did
not involve the killing of his kinsmen. His request was denied and his
resignation followed.

In the midst of the Civil War, after a protracted absence from the
country in China, I arrived in New York, and one of the first items of
news that was told me was that the West Point foundry was casting guns
for the Confederacy. I speedily learned that this rumor was altogether
unfounded. It seems that some time before the beginning of hostilities
the State of Georgia ordered some small rifled cannon from the West
Point foundry with the knowledge and consent of the Chief of the
Ordnance Department, General Alexander B. Dyer. Colonel William J.
Hardee, then Commandant-of-Cadets, was selected to inspect these guns
before delivery; but when they were finished the war-cloud had grown to
such proportions that Robert P. Parrott, the head of the foundry at the
time, Gouverneur Kemble having retired from active business eight or ten
years previously, refused to forward them. They lay at the foundry for
some time, and were afterwards bought by private parties from New York
City and presented to the government, thereby doing active service
against the Confederacy. In his interesting book recently published
entitled "Retrospections of an Active Life," Mr. John Bigelow refers to
this unfortunate rumor. He says: "On the 21st of January, 1861, I met
the venerable Professor Weir, of the West Point Military Academy, in the
cars on our way to New York, when he told me that Colonel Hardee, then
the Commandant-of-Cadets at the Academy, was buying arms for his native
state of Georgia, and that the Kembles, whose iron works were across the
river from West Point at Cold Spring, were filling a large order for
him." I knew Professor Weir very well, and Mr. Bigelow's statement, I
think, is a mistake, as all of the professors at West Point were too
loyal to Mr. Gouverneur Kemble to allow wild rumors engendered by war to
remain uncontradicted.

This seems a fitting place to recall the pleasant friendship I made with
General Robert E. Lee long before he became the Southern chieftain. I
have already stated that when I visited Cold Spring in other days he was
Superintendent of the U.S. Military Academy. He was a constant visitor
at the Kembles, and his imposing presence and genial manner are so well
known as to render a description of them altogether superfluous. Some
years later when I was visiting at the home of General Winfield Scott in
Washington I renewed my pleasing friendship with him. There existed
between these two eminent soldiers a life-long attachment, and when the
Civil War was raging it seemed almost impossible to realize that Scott
and Lee represented opposite political views, as hitherto they had
always seemed to be so completely in accord.

The Cold Spring colony was decidedly sociable, and a dinner party at one
of the many cottages was almost a daily occurrence. Captain and Mrs.
Robert P. Parrott entertained most gracefully, and their residence was
one of the show-places of that locality. I have heard Captain Parrott
facetiously remark that he had "made a loud noise in the world" by the
aid of his guns.

The first time I ever saw Washington Irving, with whom I enjoyed an
extended friendship, was when he was a guest of Gouverneur Kemble. The
intimate social relations existing between these two friends began in
early life, and lasted throughout their careers, having been fostered by
a frequent interchange of visits. In his earlier life Mr. Kemble
inherited from his relative, Nicholas Gouverneur, a fine old estate near
Newark, New Jersey, which bore the name of "Mount Pleasant." Washington
Irving, however, rechristened the place "Cockloft Hall," and in a vein
of mirth dubbed the bachelor-proprietor "The Patroon." Irving described
this retreat in his "Salmagundi," and the characters there depicted
which have been thought by many to be fanciful creations were in reality
Gouverneur Kemble and his many friends. His place was subsequently sold,
but the intimacy between the two men continued, and it has always seemed
to me that there was much pathos connected with their friendship. Both
of them were bachelors and owned homes of more than passing historic
interest on the Hudson. Irving called Kemble's residence at Cold Spring
"Bachelor's Elysium," while to his own he applied the name of "Wolfert's
Roost." In the spring of 1856 in writing to Kemble he said: "I am happy
to learn that your lawn is green. I hope it will long continue so, and
yourself likewise. I shall come up one of these days and have a roll on
it with you"; and Kemble, upon another occasion, in urging Irving to
visit him added as an inducement, "come and we will have a game of
leap-frog." Referring to their last meeting Irving said of Kemble: "That
is my friend of early life--always unchanged, always like a brother, one
of the noblest beings that ever was created. His heart is pure gold."
That was in the summer of 1859, and in the following November Irving
died, at the ripe old age of seventy-six. Constant in life, let us hope
that in death they are not separated, and that in the Silent Land

    No morrow's mischief knocks them up.

Let the cynic who spurns the consoling influences of friendship ponder
upon the life-intimacy of these two old men who, throughout the cares
and turmoils of a long and engrossing existence, illustrated so
beautifully the charm of such a benign relationship.

Irving impressed me as having a genial but at the same time a retiring
nature. He was of about the average height and, although quite advanced
in years when I knew him, his hair had not changed color. His manner was
exceeding gentle and, strange to say, with such a remarkable vocabulary
at his command, in society he was exceedingly quiet. In his early life
Irving was engaged to be married to one of his own ethereal kind, but
she passed onward, and among his friends the subject was never broached
as it seemed too sacred to dwell upon. Her name was Matilda Hoffman and
she was a daughter of the celebrated jurist of New York, Judge Josiah
Ogden Hoffman. She died in 1809 in her eighteenth year.

My last meeting with Irving is vividly impressed upon my memory as the
occasion was quite memorable. I was passing the winter in Washington as
the guest of my elder sister, Mrs. Eames, who a few years before had
married Charles Eames, Esq., of the Washington Bar. Irving, who was then
seventy-two years old, was making a brief visit to the Capital and
called to see me. This was in 1855, when William M. Thackeray was on his
second visit to this country and delivering his celebrated lectures upon
"The Four Georges." I had scarcely welcomed Mr. Irving into my sister's
drawing-room when Thackeray was announced, and I introduced the two
famous but totally dissimilar men to each other. Thackeray was a man of
powerful build and a very direct manner, but to my mind was not an
individual to be overpowered by sentiment. I can not remember after the
flight of so many years the nature of the conversation between Irving
and Thackeray apart from the mutual interchange that ordinarily passes
between strangers when casually presented.

Later I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Thackeray quite a number of
times during his sojourn in Washington where he was much lionized in
society. One evening we were all gathered around the family tea table
when he chanced to call and join us in that cup which is said to cheer.
He entered into conversation with much enthusiasm, especially when he
referred to his children. He seemed to have a special admiration for a
young daughter of his, and related many pleasing anecdotes of her
juvenile aptitude. I think he referred to Anne Isabella Thackeray (Lady
Richie), who gave to the public a biographical edition of her father's
famous works. I remember we drifted into a conversation upon a recently
published novel, but the title of the book and its author I do not
recall. At any rate, he was discussing its heroine, who, under some
extraordinary stress of circumstances, was forced to walk many miles in
her stocking-feet to obtain succor, and the whole story was thrilling in
the extreme; whereupon the author of "Vanity Fair" exclaimed, "She was
shoeicidal." Although he was an Englishman, he was not averse to a
pun--even a poor one! I remember asking Mr. Thackeray whether during his
visit to New York he had met Mrs. De Witt Clinton. His response was
characteristic: "Yes, and she is a gay old girl!"

James K. Paulding, the distinguished author who married the sister of
Gouverneur and William Kemble and lived at Hyde Park, farther up the
Hudson, frequently formed one of the pleasant coterie that gathered
around "Uncle Gouv's" board. "The Sage of Lindenwald," as ex-President
Martin Van Buren was frequently called by both friend and foe, also
repeatedly came from his home in Kinderhook to dine with Mr. Kemble, and
these memories call to mind a dinner I attended at "Uncle Gouv's" when
Mr. Van Buren was the principal guest. Although it was many years after
his retirement from the presidential office, the impression he made upon
me was that of a quiet, deliberate old gentleman, who continued to be
well versed in the affairs of state.

A short distance from Cold Spring is Garrison's, where many wealthy New
Yorkers have their country seats. Putnam County, in which both
Garrison's and Cold Spring are located, was once a portion of Philipse
Manor. The house in the "Upper Manor," as this tract of land was called,
was The Grange, but over forty years ago it was burned to the ground. It
was originally built by Captain Frederick Philips about 1800, and was
the scene of much festivity. The Philipses were tories during the
Revolution, and it is said that this property would doubtless have been
confiscated by the government but for the fact that Mary Philips, who
was Captain Frederick Philips' only child, was a minor at the close of
the war in 1783. Mary Philips, whose descendants have spelled the name
with a final _e_, married Samuel Gouverneur, and their eldest son,
Frederick Philipse Gouverneur, dropped the name Gouverneur as a surname
and assumed that of Philipse in order to inherit a large landed estate
of which The Grange was a conspicuous part.

When I first visited Garrison's the Philipse family was living at The
Grange in great elegance. Frederick Philipse was then a bachelor and his
maiden sister, Mary Marston Gouverneur, presided over his establishment.
Another sister, Margaret Philipse Gouverneur, married William Moore, a
son of the beloved physician, Dr. William Moore of New York, a nephew of
President Benjamin Moore of Columbia College and a first cousin of
Clement C. Moore who wrote the oft quoted verses, "'Twas the Night
before Christmas," which have delighted the hearts of American children
for so many decades.

Frederick Philipse subsequently married Catharine Wadsworth Post, a
member of a prominent family of New York. It was while Mr. and Mrs.
Philipse were visiting her relatives that The Grange was destroyed by
fire. Miss Mary Marston Gouverneur had ordered the chimneys cleaned, in
the manner then prevalent, by making a fire in the chimney place on the
first floor, in order to burn out the debris. The flames fortunately
broke out on the top story, thus enabling members of the family to save
many valuable heirlooms in the lower apartments. Among the paintings
rescued and now in the possession of Frederick Philipse's daughters, the
Misses Catharine Wadsworth Philipse and Margaret Gouverneur Philipse of
New York, was the portrait of the pretty Mary Philipse, Washington's
first love. Tradition states she refused his offer of marriage to become
the bride of Roger Morris, an officer in the British Army. It is
generally believed that she was the heroine of Cooper's "Spy;" but she
had then laid aside the belleship of early youth and had become the
intellectual matron of after years. Some of the other portraits rescued
were those of Adolphus Philipse, second son of the first Lord of the
Manor; Philip Philipse, and his wife, Margaret Marston, whose second
husband was the Rev. John Ogilvie, for many years assistant minister of
Trinity Church of New York; Margaret Philipse, younger sister of Mary,
who married Roger Morris; Captain Frederick Philips, by Gilbert Stuart;
Mrs. Samuel Gouverneur; Nathaniel Marston and his wife, Mary Crooke; and
Mrs. Abraham Gouverneur who was the daughter of Jacob Leisler, at one
time the Acting Governor of the Province of New York.

One visit I made to the Philipses at Garrison's is especially fresh in
my memory, as Eleanor Jones Duer, a daughter of President William A.
Duer of Columbia College, who subsequently married George T. Wilson of
Georgia, was their guest at the same time. She was a woman of much
culture and refinement, and in every way a delightful companion. A great
intimacy existed for many years between the Gouverneurs and Philipses of
Garrison's and the Duer family of New York. The Philipses, who at this
time lived very much in the old-fashioned style, were the last of the
old families with which I was familiar to have the cloth removed after
the dessert was served; and in doing this an elegant mahogany table
always kept in a highly polished condition was displayed. Upon it were
placed the fruits, nuts and wine. Another custom in the Philipse family
which, as far as I know, was unique in this country was that of having
four meals a day. Breakfast was served at eight, luncheon at one, dinner
at six and supper at nine o'clock.

During another visit I made at The Grange I had the pleasure of meeting
Mr. and Mrs. Henry Sheaffe Hoyt (Frances Maria Duer), who were house
guests there and who had just returned from an extended European tour.
She was another daughter of President Duer of Columbia College and died
not long ago in Newport, R.I., at a very advanced age. Mrs. John King
Van Rensselaer, a daughter of Mrs. Archibald Gracie King (Elizabeth
Denning Duer), is her niece.

Before leaving the banks of the Hudson River I must speak of my former
associations with Newburgh. From my earliest life we children were in
the habit of making frequent visits to my mother's relatives, the Roe
family, who resided there. We all eagerly looked forward to these trips
up the Hudson which were made upon the old _Thomas Powell_ and later
upon the _Mary Powell_. My mother's relative, Maria Hazard, married
William Roe, one of the most highly respected and prosperous citizens of
Newburgh. They lived in a stately mansion surrounded by several acres
of land in the heart of the city. Mrs. Roe was a remarkable woman. I
knew her only as an elderly matron; but, like women of advanced age in
China, where I spent a number of years of my early married life, she
controlled everyone who came within her "sphere of influence." I
remember, for example, that upon one occasion when I was visiting her,
Thomas Hazard Roe, her elder son, who at the time was over sixty years
of age and a bachelor and who desired to go upon some hunting
expedition, said to her: "Mother, have I your permission to go to the
Adirondacks?" She thought for a few moments and replied: "Well, Hazard,
I think you might go."

About the year 1840 Newburgh was recommended by two of the earliest
prominent homeopathic physicians of New York City, Doctors John F. Gray
and Amos G. Hull, as a locality well-adapted to people affected with
delicate lungs, and upon their advice many families built handsome
residences there. In my early recollection Newburgh had a fine hotel
called the Powelton, which bade fair to become a prominent resort for
New Yorkers. In the zenith of its prosperity, however, it was burned to
the ground and was never rebuilt. I hardly think that anyone will have
the assurance to dispute the healthfulness of this place when I state
that my cousin, Thomas Hazard Roe, of whom I have just spoken, died
there in 1907 after having more than rounded a full century of years. He
was in many ways a remarkable man with a mind well stored with
knowledge, and he retained all of his mental faculties unclouded until
the end of his life. His sister, Mary Elizabeth, the widow of the late
William C. Hasbrouck, a prominent Newburgh lawyer and a few years his
junior, also died quite recently in Newburgh at the age of ninety-seven.
Her son, General Henry C. Hasbrouck, U.S.A., also died but a short time
since, but her daughter, Miss Maria Hasbrouck, whose whole life has been
devoted to her family, still resides in the old homestead. The third
and youngest member of this interesting trio, Miss Emily Maria Roe, is
now living in Newburgh at an advanced age, surrounded by a large
connection and beloved by everyone.

One of the most prominent families in Newburgh in years gone by was that
of Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Powell, from whom the celebrated river boats were
named. Mrs. Powell's maiden name was Mary Ludlow, and she belonged to a
well-known New York family. Her brother, Lieutenant Augustus C. Ludlow,
who was second in command on board the _Chesapeake_, under Captain James
Lawrence of "Don't give up the ship" fame, is buried by the latter's
side in old Trinity church-yard in New York. Mrs. Powell took great
pride and pleasure in the boat named in her honor, the _Mary Powell_,
and I have frequently seen her upon my trips up the Hudson, sitting upon
the deck of her namesake and chatting pleasantly with those around her.

Newburgh was also the home of Andrew Jackson Downing, the author of
"Landscape Gardening," "Cottage Residences," and other similar works. I
received my first knowledge of horticulture from a visit I made to his
beautiful residence, which was surrounded by several acres. It was my
earliest view of nature assisted by art, and to my untutored eye his
lawn was a veritable Paradise. Some years later, when I was visiting the
Scotts in Washington, Mr. Downing called and during our conversation
told me that he had come to the Capital, upon the invitation of the
government, to lay out the Smithsonian grounds. His wife was Miss
Caroline De Wint of Fishkill, New York, a granddaughter of Mrs. Henry
William Smith (Abigail Adams), the only daughter of President John Adams
who reached maturity. After spending some months in Washington, Mr.
Downing was returning to his Newburgh home when the _Henry Clay_, a
Hudson River steamboat upon which he had taken passage, was destroyed
by fire and he perished while attempting to rescue some of the
passengers. This was in 1852.

There are some persons still living who will readily recall, in
connection with social functions, the not uncommon name of Brown. The
particular Brown to whom I refer was the sexton of Grace Episcopal
Church, on the corner of Broadway and Tenth Street, where many of the
_soi-disant creme de la creme_ worshiped. He must have possessed a
christian name, but if so I never heard it for he was only plain Brown,
and Brown he was called. He was born before the days when spurious
genealogical charts are thrust at one, _nolens volens_; but probably
this was lucky for him and the public was spared much that is
uninteresting. In connection with his duties at Grace Church he came in
contact with many fashionable people, and was enabled to add materially
to his rather small income by calling carriages from the doorsteps for
the society folk of the great metropolis. In this and other ways his
pursuits gradually became so varied that in time he might have been
safely classed among the _dilettanti_. The most remarkable feature of
his career, however, was the fact that, in spite of his humble calling,
he became a veritable social dictator, and many an ambitious mother with
a thousand-dollar ball upon her hands (this being about the usual sum
spent upon an evening entertainment at that time), lacked the courage to
embark upon such a venture without first seeking an interview with
Brown. I knew but little about his powers of discrimination, as we as a
family never found his services necessary, but when requested I know he
furnished to these dependent hostesses lists of eligible young men whom
he deemed proficient in the polka and mazurka, the fashionable dances of
the day. Strange as it may appear, I can vouch for the truth of the
statement that many an exclusive hostess was glad to avail herself of
these lists of the accommodating Brown. The dances just mentioned were,
by the way, introduced into this country by Pierro Saracco, an Italian
master who taught me to dance, and who was quite popular in the
fashionable circles of his day. Many years later, when I was residing in
Maryland, he came to Frederick several times a week and gave dancing
lessons to my two older daughters.

Brown was a pleasant, genial, decidedly "hail-fellow-well-met" man, as I
remember him, and was in a way the precursor of Ward McAllister, though
of course on a decidedly more unpretentious plane. One cannot but
express surprise at the consideration with which Brown's _proteges_ were
treated by the _elite_, nor can one deny that the social destinies of
many young men were the direct result of his strenuous efforts. I
remember, for example, one of these who at the time was "a youth to
fortune and to fame unknown," whom Brown took under his sheltering wing
and whose subsequent social career was shaped by him. He is of foreign
birth, with a pleasing exterior and address and, through the
instrumentality of his humble friend who gave him his first start, is
to-day, although advanced in life, one of the most conspicuous
financiers in New York, and occasionally has private audiences with
presidents and other magnates. Moreover, I feel certain that he will
welcome this humble tribute to his benefactor with much delight, as the
halo which now surrounds his brow he owes in a large degree to his early
introduction into the smart set by the sexton of Grace Church. The last
I ever heard of Brown, he visited Europe. After his return from his
well-earned holiday he died and was laid to rest in his own native soil.
Peace to Brown's ashes--his work was well done! It cannot be said of
him, as of many others, that he lived in vain, as he was doubtless the
forerunner of the later and more accomplished leader and dictator of New
York's "Four Hundred."

A poetaster paid him the following facetious tribute:

    Oh, glorious Brown, thou medley strange
      Of churchyard, ballroom, saint, and sinner,
    Flying by morn through fashion's range
      And burying mortals after dinner.
    Walking one day with invitations,
    Passing the next at consecrations,
    Tossing the sod at eve on coffins,
    With one hand drying tears of orphans,
    And one unclasping ballroom carriage,
    Or cutting plumcake up for marriage;
    Dusting by day the pew and missal,
    Sounding by night the ballroom whistle,
    Admitted free through fashion's wicket,
    And skilled at psalms, at punch, and cricket.

An amusing anecdote is told of Brown's financial _protege_ whose name I
have withheld. When he was still somewhat uncertain of his social status
he received an invitation to a fancy ball given by a fashionable matron.
This recognition he regarded as a conspicuous social triumph, and in his
desire to do the proper thing he sought William R. Travers--"Bill
Travers," as he was generally called--to ask his advice in regard to the
proper costume for him to wear. The inquiring social aspirant had a head
well-denuded of hair, and Mr. Travers, after a moment's hesitation,
wittingly replied: "Sugarcoat your head and go as a pill!"

Though not a professional wit, Brown was at least capable of making a
pun quite equal to those inflicted upon society by some of his
superiors. As sexton of Grace Church, he officiated at the wedding of
Miss Phoebe Lord, a daughter of Daniel Lord, whose marriage to Henry
Day, a rising young lawyer, was solemnized in this edifice. At the close
of the reception following the marriage ceremony someone laughingly
called upon Brown for a toast. He was equal to the occasion as he
quickly replied: "This is the Lord's Day!"




CHAPTER VII

FASHION AND LETTERS


One of the show places of New York State, many years ago, was the
residence of John Greig, a polished Scotch gentleman who presided with
dignity over his princely estate in Canandaigua in central New York, and
there dispensed a generous hospitality. Mr. Greig was the agent for some
of the English nobility, many of whom owned extensive tracts of land in
America. The village of Canandaigua was also the home of the Honorable
Francis Granger, a son of Gideon Granger, Postmaster General under
Jefferson and Madison. Francis Granger was the Postmaster General for a
brief period under President William Henry Harrison, but the latter died
soon after his inauguration and his successor did not retain him in his
cabinet. It is said of Francis Granger that he was a firm believer in
the words of ex-Governor William L. Marcy in the United States Senate in
1832 that "to the victors belong the spoils of the enemy," and that
during his month of cabinet service eighteen hundred employees in his
department were dismissed. The Democrats evidently thought that "turn
about was fair play," as a few years later, under President Polk, the
work of decapitation was equally active. Ransom H. Gillett, Register of
the Treasury at that time, became so famous at head-chopping, that he
was soon nicknamed "Guillotine."

Mr. Granger, with his fine physique and engaging manner (he was often
called "the handsome Frank Granger"), was well adapted to the
requirements of social life and especially to those of the National
Capital, where the _beaux esprits_ usually congregated. His only
daughter, Adele Granger, often called "the witty Miss Granger," was at
school at Madame Chegaray's with my elder sister Fanny, and in my
earlier life was frequently a guest in our Houston Street home, prior to
her sojourn in Washington, where her father for many years represented
his district in Congress. We looked forward to her visits as one
anticipates with delight a ray of sunshine. She was always assured of
the heartiest of welcomes in Washington, where she was the center of a
bright and intellectual circle. She finally married Mr. John E. Thayer,
a Boston capitalist, and after his death became the wife of the Hon.
Robert C. Winthrop of the same city. She presided with grace over a
summer home in Brookline and a winter residence in Boston, at both of
which she received hosts of distinguished guests. To illustrate the
importance with which she was regarded, one of her guests remarked to
me, during one of my visits at the Brookline home, that Mrs. Winthrop
was more than one woman--that in that locality she was considered an
"institution." In the latter part of Mr. Winthrop's life I received a
very graceful note from him enclosing the following ode written by him
in honor of the golden jubilee of Queen Victoria:

     BOSTON, MASS.
          90 Marlborough Street, 20 Feb'y 1888.

     Dear Mrs. Gouverneur:

     Your kind note and the pamphlet reached me this morning. I
     thank you for them both.

     I have lost no time in hunting up a spare copy of my little
     Ode on the Queen's Jubilee.

     I threw it into a newspaper with not a little misgiving. I
     certainly did not dream that it would be asked for by a lady
     seven or eight months after its date. I appreciate the
     compliment.

          Yours truly,

               ROBT. C. WINTHROP.

     Mrs. M. Gouverneur.

         ODE.

         Not as our Empress do we come to greet thee,
               Augusta Victoria,
           On this auspicious Jubilee:
         Wide as old England's realms extend,
               O'er earth and sea,--
         Her flag in every clime unfurled,
         Her morning drum-beat compassing the world,--
         Yet here her sway Imperial finds an end,
           In our loved land of Liberty!

         Nor is it as our Queen for us to hail thee,
               Excellent Majesty,
           On this auspicious Jubilee:
         Long, long ago our patriot fathers broke
         The tie which bound us to a foreign yoke,
               And made us free;
         Subjects thenceforward of ourselves alone,
         We pay no homage to an earthly throne,--
           Only to God we bend the knee!

         Still, still, to-day and here, thou hast a part,
               Illustrious Lady,
         In every honest Anglo-Saxon heart,
           Albeit untrained to notes of loyalty:
         As lovers of our old ancestral race,--
         In reverence for the goodness and the grace
           Which lends thy fifty years of Royalty
         A monumental glory on the Historic page,
         Emblazoning them forever as the Victorian Age;

         For all the virtue, faith and fortitude,
               The piety and truth
         Which mark thy noble womanhood,
               As erst thy golden youth,--
         We also would do honor to thy name,
         Joining our distant voices to the loud acclaim
           Which rings o'er earth and sea,
         In attestation of the just renown
         Thy reign has added to the British Crown!

         Meanwhile no swelling sounds of exultation
               Can banish from our memory,
               On this auspicious Jubilee,
         A saintly figure standing at thy side,
         The cherished consort of thy power and pride,
         Through weary years the subject of thy tears,
             And mourned in every nation,--
         Whose latest words a wrong to us withstood,
         The friend of peace,--Albert, the Wise and Good!

         Boston, June, 1887.        ROBERT C. WINTHROP.

At Geneseo, in the beautiful Genesee Valley, and a few miles from
Canandaigua, in one of the most fertile portions of the State of New
York, resided a contemporary and friend of Mrs. Robert C. Winthrop, Miss
Elizabeth Wadsworth, a daughter of James Wadsworth, a well-known
philanthropist and one of the wealthiest landed proprietors in the
state. He was also the father of Major General James S. Wadsworth, a
defeated candidate for Governor of New York, who was killed in 1864 at
the battle of the Wilderness. Miss Wadsworth was celebrated for her
grace of manner. I had the pleasure of knowing her quite well in New
York, where she generally passed her winters. Quite early in life and
before the period when the fair daughters of America had discovered, to
any great extent, the advantages of matrimonial alliances with foreign
_partis_, she married the Honorable Charles Augustus Murray, a member of
the English Parliament and of a Scotch family, the head of which was the
Earl of Dunmore. She lived but a few years, and died in Egypt, where her
husband was Consul General, leaving a young son. Her husband's ancestor,
John Murray, Lord Dunmore, was the last Colonial Governor of Virginia.
It has been asserted that but few, if any, Colonial Governors, not even
the sportive Lord Cornbury of New York who, upon state occasions,
dressed himself up in female attire in compliment to his royal cousin,
Queen Anne, had quite as eventful a career. Lord Dunmore originally came
to America as Governor of the Province of New York, but was subsequently
transferred to Virginia. While in New York he was made President of the
St. Andrew's Society, a Scotch organization which had been in existence
about twenty years and whose first President was Philip Livingston, the
Signer. In an old New York directory of 1798 I find the following names
of officers of this society for the preceding year: Walter Ruturfurde
(sic), President; Peter M'Dougall and George Turnbull, Vice Presidents;
George Douglass, Treasurer; George Johnson, Secretary; John Munro,
Assistant Secretary; the Rev. John M. Mason and the Rev. John Bisset,
Chaplains; Dr. James Tillary, Physician; and William Renwick, James
Stuart, John Knox, Alexander Thomson, Andrew D. Barclay, and John
M'Gregor, Managers.

It was not at all flattering to the pride of Virginia that Lord Dunmore
lingered so long in New York after his order of transfer to the Old
Dominion. He also greatly incurred the displeasure of the Virginians by
occasionally dissolving their Assembly, and they found him generally
inimical to their interests. Finally matters were brought to an issue,
and Dunmore, in defense of his conduct, issued a proclamation against "a
certain Patrick Henry and his deluded followers." His final act was the
burning of Norfolk in 1776, which at that time was the most flourishing
city in Virginia. During Lord Dunmore's life in Colonial Virginia, a
daughter was born to him and at the request of the Assembly was named
"Virginia." It is said that subsequently a provision was made by the
Provincial Legislature, by virtue of which she was to receive a very
large sum of money when she became of age. Meanwhile, the War of the
Revolution severed the yoke of Great Britain, and Lord Dunmore returned
to England with his family. Time passed and the little girl born in the
Virginia colony grew into womanhood. Her father had died and as her
circumstances became contracted she addressed a letter to Thomas
Jefferson, then President of the United States, under the impression
that he was Governor of Virginia. Jefferson sent the letter to James
Monroe, who was then Governor of Virginia, and he in turn referred it
to the Legislature of that State. This letter is now in my possession
and is as follows:

     Sir:

     I am at a loss how to begin a letter in which I am desirous
     of stating claims that many long years have been forgotten,
     but which I think no time can really annihilate until
     fulfilment has followed the promise. I imagine that you must
     have heard that during my father Dunmore's residence in
     America I was born and that the Assembly, then sitting at
     Williamsburg, requested that I might be their God-daughter
     and christened by the name of Virginia; which request being
     complied with, they purposed providing for me in a manner
     suitable to the honor they conferred upon me and to the
     responsibility they had taken on themselves. I was
     accordingly christened as the God-daughter of that Assembly
     and named after the State. Events have since occurred which
     in some measure may have altered the intentions then
     expressed in my favor. These were (so I have understood)
     that a sum of money should be settled upon me which,
     accumulating during my minority, would make up the sum of
     one hundred thousand pounds when I became of age. It is true
     many changes may have taken place in America, but that fact
     still remains the same. I am still the God-daughter of the
     Virginians. By being that, may I not flatter myself I have
     some claims upon their benevolence if not upon their
     justice? May I not ask that State, especially you, sir,
     their Governor, to fulfil in some respects the engagements
     entered into by their predecessors? Your fathers promised
     mine that I should become their charge. I am totally
     unprovided for; for my father died without making a will. My
     brothers are married, having families of their own; and not
     being bound to do anything for me, they regard with
     indifference my unprotected and neglected situation. Perhaps
     I ought not to mention this circumstance as a proper
     inducement for you to act upon; nor would I, were it not my
     excuse for wishing to remind you of the claims I now
     advance. I hope you will feel my right to your favor and
     protection to be founded on the promises made by your own
     fathers, and in the situation in which I stand with regard
     to the State of Virginia. You will ask, sir, why my appeal
     to your generosity and justice has been so tardy. While my
     father lived, I lived under his protection and guidance. He
     had incurred the displeasure of the Virginians and he feared
     an application from me would have seemed like one from him.
     At his decease I became a free agent. I had taken no part
     which could displease my God-fathers, and myself remained
     what the Assembly had made me--their God-daughter,
     consequently their charge. I wish particularly to enforce my
     dependence upon your bounty; for I feel hopes revive, which
     owe their birth to your honor and generosity, and to that of
     the State whose representative I now address. Now that my
     father is no more, I am certain they and you will remember
     what merited your esteem in his character and conduct and
     forget that which estranged your hearts from so honorable a
     man. But should you not, you are too just to visit what you
     deem the sins of the father upon his luckless daughter.

          I am, sir, your obt. etc.

In 1831 the small but pretty Gramercy Park in New York was established
by Samuel B. Ruggles. I have heard that this plot of ground was
originally used as a burying ground by Trinity parish. As I first
recollect the spot, there were but four or five dwellings in its
vicinity. One of the earliest was built by James W. Gerard, a prominent
lawyer, who was regarded as a most venturesome pioneer to establish his
residence in such a remote locality. Next door to Mr. Gerard, a few
years later, lived George Belden, whose daughter Julia married Frederick
S. Tallmadge. Mr. Tallmadge died only a few years ago, highly respected
and esteemed by a large circle of friends.

In 1846 I was one of the guests at a fashionable wedding in a residence
on the west side of this park, which was possibly the first ceremony of
the kind to take place in this then remote region. The bride's mother,
the widow of Richard Armistead of New Bern, N.C., who habitually spent
her winters in New York, had purchased the house only a few months
previously. The bride, Susan Armistead, was an intimate friend of mine,
and a well-known belle in both the North and the South. The groom, a
resident of New York, was John Still Winthrop, of the same family as the
Winthrops of Massachusetts. The guests composed an interesting
assemblage of the old _regime_, many of whose descendants are now in the
background. I met on that occasion many old friends, among whom the
Kings, Gracies, Winthrops and Rogers predominated. Mrs. De Witt Clinton
honored the occasion, dressed in the fashion of a decade or two
previous. Her presence was a very graceful act as she then but seldom
appeared in society, her only view of the gay world being from her own
domain. Her peculiarity in regard to dress was very marked as she
positively declined to change it with the prevailing style but clung
tenaciously to the old-fashioned _modes_ to the end of her life. Miss
Armistead was an ideal-looking bride in her white dress and long tulle
veil and carried, according to the custom then prevalent, a large flat
bouquet of white japonicas with white lace paper around the stems. In
the dining-room, a handsome collation was served, with a huge wedding
cake at one end of the table and pomegranates, especially sent from the
bride's southern home, forming a part of the repast. The health of the
newly wedded couple was drunk in champagne and good cheer prevailed on
every side. The whole house bore a happy aspect with its floral
decorations and its bright Liverpool coal fires burning in the grates.
Furnaces, by the way, were then unknown. In New York there was at that
time a strong prejudice against anthracite coal, and Liverpool coal was
therefore generally used, the price of which was fifteen dollars a ton.
I have many close and tender associations connected with this bride of
so many years ago, especially as our friendship, formed in our early
life, still extends to her descendants. Some years after Mrs. Winthrop's
marriage, and in her earlier widowhood, four generations traveled
together, and then, as at other times, dwelt under the same roof. They
were Mrs. Nathaniel Smith, Mrs. Richard Armistead, Mrs. John S. Winthrop
and her son, John S. Winthrop, who, with his interesting family, now
resides in Tallahassee.

In 1841, Lord Morpeth, the seventh Earl of Carlisle and a worthy
specimen of the English nobility, visited the United States, and while
here investigated the subject of the inheritance of slaves by English
subjects. His report seems to have been favorably received, as a law was
passed subsequent to his return declaring it illegal for Englishmen to
hold slaves through inheritance. England's sympathetic heart about this
time was in a perennial throb for "the poor Africans in chains,"
apparently quite oblivious to the fact that the "chains" had been
introduced and cemented by her fostering hand.

I recall with unusual pleasure an entertainment where Lord Morpeth was
the guest of honor, at the residence of William Bard on College Place,
at that time a fashionable street in the vicinity of old Columbia
College. I have always remembered the occasion as I was then introduced
to Lord Morpeth and enjoyed a long and pleasant conversation with him.
Our host was a son of Dr. Samuel Bard, physician to General Washington
during the days when New York was the seat of government.

[Illustration: MRS. JOHN STILL WINTHROP, NEE ARMISTEAD, BY SULLY

_From a portrait owned by John Still Winthrop of Tallahassee._]

Mr. and Mrs. John Austin Stevens lived on Bleecker Street and had a
number of interesting daughters. They were an intellectual family and I
attended an entertainment given by them in honor of Martin Farquhar
Tupper, the author of "Proverbial Philosophy." Mr. Stevens' sister,
Lucretia Ledyard Stevens, married Mr. Richard Heckscher of
Philadelphia.

Another gentlewoman of the same period was Mrs. Laura Wolcott Gibbs,
wife of Colonel George Gibbs of Newport. The first Oliver Wolcott, a
Signer, Governor of Connecticut and General in the Revolutionary War,
was her grandfather; while the second of the same name, Secretary of the
Treasury under Washington and Adams, Governor of his State and United
States Judge, was her father. I am in the fullest sympathy with the
following remarks concerning her made at her funeral by the Rev. Dr.
Henry W. Bellows: "I confess I always felt in the presence of Mrs. Gibbs
as if I were talking with Oliver Wolcott himself, and saw in her
self-reliant, self-asserting and independent manner and speech an
unmistakable copy of a strong and thoroughly individual character,
forged in the hottest fires of national struggle. The intense
individuality of her nature set her apart from others. You felt that
from the womb she must have been just what she was--a piece of the
original granite on which the nation was built.... The force, the
courage, the self-poise she exhibited in the ordinary concerns of our
peaceful life would in a masculine frame have made, in times of national
peril, a patriot of the most decided and energetic character--one able
and willing to believe all things possible, and to make all the efforts
and sacrifices by which impossibilities are accomplished."

Mrs. Gibbs was literally steeped and moulded in the traditions of the
past; in fact, she was a reminder of the noble women of the
Revolutionary era, many of whom have left records behind them. She was
gifted with a keen sense of humor, and her talent in repartee was
proverbial. Although many years my senior, I found delightful
companionship in her society, and her home was always a great resource
to me. Her accomplished daughter, the wife of Captain Theophile
d'Oremieulx, U.S.A., was particularly skilled in music. Her son, Wolcott
Gibbs, the distinguished Professor of Harvard University, maintained to
the last the high intellectual standard of his ancestors. He died
several years ago. I was informed by his mother that at one period of
its history Columbia College desired to secure his services as a
professor, but that the Hon. Hamilton Fish, one of its trustees and an
uncompromising Episcopalian, objected on the ground of his Unitarian
faith and was sustained by the Board of Trustees. It seemed a rather
inconsistent act, as at another period of its history a Hebrew was
chosen as a member of the same faculty.

As nearly as I can remember, it was in the summer of 1845 that I spent
several weeks as the guest of the financier and author, Alexander B.
Johnson, in Utica, New York. Mrs. Johnson's maiden name was Abigail
Louisa Smith Adams, and she was the daughter of Charles Adams, son of
President John Adams. During my sojourn there her uncle, John Quincy
Adams, came to Utica to visit his relatives, and I had the pleasure of
being a guest of the family at the same time. He was accompanied upon
this trip by his daughter-in-law, Mrs. Charles Francis Adams, a young
grandson whose name I do not recall, and the father of Mrs. Adams, Peter
C. Brooks, of Boston, another of whose daughters was the wife of Edward
Everett. Upon their arrival in Utica, the greatest enthusiasm prevailed,
and the elderly ex-President was welcomed by an old-fashioned torchlight
procession. In response to many urgent requests, Mr. Adams made an
impromptu speech from the steps of the Johnson house, and proved himself
to be indeed "the old man eloquent." Although he was not far from eighty
years old, he was by no means lacking in either mental or physical
vitality. Mrs. Charles Francis Adams impressed me as a woman of unusual
culture and intellectuality, while her father, Peter C. Brooks, was a
genial old gentleman whom everyone loved to greet. He was at that time
one of Boston's millionaires; and many years later I heard his grandson,
the late Henry Sidney Everett, of Washington, son of Edward Everett,
say of him that when he first arrived in Boston he was a youth with
little or no means.

After the Adams party had rested for a few days a pleasure trip to
Trenton Falls, in Oneida County, was proposed. A few prominent citizens
of Utica were invited by the Johnsons to accompany the party, and among
them several well-known lawyers whose careers won for them a national as
well as local reputation. Among these I may especially mention the
handsome Horatio Seymour, then in his prime, whose courteous manners and
manly bearing made him exceptionally attractive. Mr. Adams bore the
fatigue of the trip remarkably well and his strength seemed undiminished
as the day waned. His devoted daughter-in-law remained constantly beside
him while at the Falls to administer to his comfort and attend to his
wants; in fact, she was so solicitous concerning him that she requested
that she might, in going and coming, occupy a carriage as near him as
possible. I cannot but regard her as a model for many of the present
generation who fail to be deeply impressed by either merit or years.

The Adamses were charming guests, and I have always felt that I was
highly privileged to visit under the same roof with them, and especially
to listen to the words of wisdom of the venerable ex-President. I have
heard it stated, by the way, that during his official life in
Washington, Mr. Adams took a daily bath in the Potomac. This luxury he
must have missed in Utica, as at this time it offered no opportunities
for a plunge except in the "raging canal." Mrs. Charles Francis Adams
accompanied her husband when he went to England, during our Civil War,
to represent the United States at the Court of St. James. The consummate
manner in which he conducted our relations with Great Britain at that
critical period marked him as an accomplished statesman and a
diplomatist of the rarest skill. The nature of his task was one of
extreme delicacy, and it is highly probable that, but for his masterly
efforts, England would have recognized the independence of the Southern
Confederacy. The energy and fidelity with which he met the requirements
of his mission undermined his health and, returning to this country, he
retired to his old home in Quincy.

While in Utica I drove in the family carriage with Mrs. Johnson and her
sister, Mrs. John W. King, to Peterboro, about twenty-five miles
distant, to visit Mr. and Mrs. Gerrit Smith. Mr. Smith had already
commenced his crusade against slavery, and the family antipathy to the
institution was so strong that two of his nieces, sisters of General
John Cochrane, who later became President of the Society of the
Cincinnati, refused to wear dresses made of cotton because it was a
Southern staple. As I remember this great anti-slavery agitator, he was
a remarkably handsome man with an air of enthusiasm which seemed to
pervade his whole being. From 1853 to 1855 he was in Congress, and I had
the pleasure of listening to one of his scathing speeches on the floor
of the House of Representatives in denunciation of slavery. I recall his
unusual felicity in the use of Scriptural quotations, one of which still
lingers in my ears: "Where the spirit of the Lord is there is liberty."
His daughter Elizabeth married Charles Dudley Miller, a prominent
citizen of Utica. She was a woman of very pronounced views, as may be
judged, in part, by the fact that some years after my marriage, and
while living in Washington, I met her by accident one day at the Capitol
and to my surprise discovered that she was wearing bloomers!

In September, 1849, I was returning to my home in New York from another
visit to the Johnsons in Utica, when, upon the invitation of Mrs.
Hamilton Fish, whose husband was then Governor of the Empire State, I
stopped in Albany and visited them. They were of course occupying the
gubernatorial mansion, but its exact location I cannot exactly recall.
Life was exceedingly simple in the middle of the last century, even in
the wealthiest families, and through all these years I seem to remember
but a single incident connected with the family life of these early
friends--the trivial fact that the breakfast hour was seven o'clock.
Mrs. Fish was a model mother and was surrounded by a large and
interesting family of children, some of whom are among the highly
prominent people of the present time.

_Apropos_ of the Fish children, an amusing story is told of the keen
sense of humor of the late William M. Evarts, who presented in every-day
life such a stern exterior. When, on one occasion, he was a guest of the
Fish family at their summer home on the Hudson, his attention was called
to a large and beautifully executed painting of a group of children
which, as was quite apparent, was greatly treasured by the ex-Governor.
Mr. Evarts gazed upon the portrait for some minutes in silence and then
exclaimed in a low tone, "little Fishes." Mr. Fish stood near his guest
but, not catching the exact drift of his remark, replied: "Sir, I do not
understand." The bright response was: "Yes, I said little fishes,
_sardines_,"--reminding one of Artemus Ward's definition of sardines,
"little fishes biled in ile."

Another witticism of Mr. Evarts's which seems to me deserving of
preservation is said to have been uttered during his residence in
Washington, when he was Secretary of State under President Hayes. A
party of distinguished Englishmen was visiting the National Capital and
Mr. Evarts escorted it to Mount Vernon. After inspecting the mansion and
the grave of Washington the party walked to the end of the lawn to view
the attractive scenery of the Potomac River. One of the Englishmen who
seemed decidedly more conversant with certain phases of American
history than the others asked Mr. Evarts whether it were really true
that Washington could throw a shilling across the Potomac. "Yes," said
Mr. Evarts, in a diplomatic tone, "it is quite true." The same evening
at a dinner, the Secretary of State repeated the conversation to a
mutual friend and added: "He could do even better than that; he could
toss a Sovereign across the Atlantic!"

The day after my arrival in Albany, President Zachary Taylor and his
suite were the guests of Governor and Mrs. Fish, and the same day a
dinner was given in his honor which was attended by prominent State
officials. Meanwhile, a concourse of people had surrounded the mansion,
anxious to see the President and to demand a speech. Old "Rough and
Ready" appeared at an open window and faced the multitude, but was not
as "ready" in speech as with his sword. He made a brave attempt,
however, to gratify the people, but he seemed exceedingly feeble and his
voice was decidedly weak. In the course of his remarks his aide and
son-in-law, Colonel William W. S. Bliss, came to his rescue and prompted
him, as it were, from behind the scenes; so that everything passed off,
as I understood the next day, to the satisfaction of his audience.
Possibly this was one of Taylor's last appearances in public, as he died
the following summer.

Although Mrs. Fish was at this time a comparatively young woman, she
presided over the Governor's mansion with the same grace and ease so
characteristic of her career in Washington when her husband was
Secretary of State under President Grant. In my opinion, and I know but
few who had a better opportunity of judging, Mrs. Fish was in many
respects a remarkable woman. For eight years her home was a social
center, and she was regarded as the social dictator of the Grant
administration. When any perplexing questions of a social nature arose
during her _regime_, the general inquiry was: "What does Mrs. Fish
say?" This in time became a standing joke, but it illustrates the fact
that her decisions usually were regarded as final.

One of the social leaders in New York during my younger life was Mrs.
Isaac Jones, who, in her own set, was known as "Bloody Mary." Why this
name was applied to her I cannot say, as she was not in the least either
cruel or revengeful, as far as I knew, but on the contrary was suave and
genial to an unusual degree. She lived on Broadway, directly opposite
the site where the New York Hotel formerly stood, and her entertainments
were both numerous and elaborate. She was one of the daughters of John
Mason, who began life as a tailor but left at his death an estate valued
at a million dollars, which was a large fortune for those days. Isaac
Jones was president of the Chemical Manufacturing Company and later
became prominently connected with the Chemical Bank of New York. A
brother of Mrs. Jones married Miss Emma Wheatley, a superior young woman
who, unfortunately for her father-in-law's peace of mind, was an
actress. This alliance was most distasteful to the whole Mason
connection, and when John Mason was approaching death George W. Strong,
a prominent lawyer, was hastily summoned by his daughters to draft his
will. Almost immediately following Mr. Mason's funeral a legal battle
was commenced over his estate. He left outright to his three daughters
their proportionate share of his fortune, but to his son who had
displeased him by his marriage he devised an annuity of only fifteen
hundred dollars. Charles O'Conor, the counsel for the son, in his
argument in behalf of his client, said that Mr. Mason's daughters,
instead of sending for a clergyman to console his dying moments, had
demanded the immediate presence of a respectable lawyer, "a lawyer so
respectable that throughout his entire practice he never had a poor
client." Mr. O'Conor succeeded in breaking this will, and young Mason
was given his proper share in his father's estate.

One of John Mason's daughters became the wife of Gordon Hammersley,
whose son Louis married the beautiful Miss Lilly Warren Price of Troy,
the daughter of Commodore Cicero Price of the United States Navy. She
subsequently married the Duke of Marlborough, and afterwards Lord
William Beresford. The Marlborough-Hammersley ceremony was performed in
this country by a justice of the peace, and the new Duchess of
Marlborough went to England to live upon her husband's depleted estates.
It is said that she was allowed by her late husband's family an annual
income of one hundred and fifty thousand dollars; and Blenheim, which
had long felt the strain of "decay's effacing fingers," began again,
through the agency of the Hammersley wealth, to resemble the structure
once occupied by that tyrant of royalty, the imperious Sarah Jennings.

Very little seemed to be known about Louis Hammersley, as he lived a
retired life, and when seen in public was almost invariably accompanied
by his father, Gordon Hammersley. When the two appeared upon the street,
they were sometimes facetiously dubbed "Dombey and Son." They were
familiar figures on Broadway, where they invariably walked arm in arm.
John Hammersley, a brother of Gordon, was the aesthetic member of this
well-known family. One of his pet diversions was the giving of unusual,
and sometimes sensational, dinners. To celebrate the completion of the
trans-continental railroad, he planned what he called a Roman dinner.
His guests were furnished with togas and partook of the meal in a
reclining position, like the Romans of old. This unique entertainment
was, of course, thoroughly enjoyed, but did not become _a la mode_ as
the flowing toga could hardly compete with trim waistcoats and clinging
trousers, even on festive occasions.

Fifty years ago, more or less, a house was erected in New York on the
southwest corner of Fifth Avenue and Fifteenth Street by Mrs. Charles
Maverick Parker, and, to the astonishment of Gothamites, it was said to
have cost one hundred thousand dollars! Later it became the home of the
Manhattan Club. Many old residents visited it on its completion, as such
a costly structure was regarded with nothing short of amazement. I
remember it was an _on dit_ of the town that upon one occasion, when
Mrs. Parker was personally escorting some unusually prominent person
through the mansion, she pointed to a pretty little receptacle in her
bedroom and exclaimed as she passed: "That is where I keep my old shoes.
I wear old shoes just as other people do." The cost and pretentiousness
of her establishment caused her to be nicknamed "Mrs. House Parker." Her
residence was built of brown stone, which so strongly appealed to the
taste of New Yorkers that in time the same material was largely employed
in the erection of dwellings. High ceilings were then much in vogue and
were greatly admired. In our house in Houston Street, where I passed my
late childhood and early womanhood, the ceilings were unusually high,
while all of the doors were of massive mahogany set in ornamental white
frames. In subsequent years I met so many persons who in former days had
been our neighbors in Houston Street that I was conceited enough to
designate that locality as "the cradle of the universe." Anthony
Bleecker Neilson was our next-door neighbor in this famous old street,
and during my life in China twin sons of his, William and Bleecker, were
again my neighbors in Foo Chow, where they were both employed in the
_Hong_ (firm) of Oliphant & Company.

A rival to Mrs. Parker's fine house was not long in appearing. Directly
opposite a stately residence was built by Mrs. Richard K. Haight which
subsequently became the New York Club. A great rivalry existed between
these two matrons which even extended to hats, feathers, gowns and all
the furbelows so dear to the feminine heart. In fact, the far-famed
houses of Montague and Capulet could not have maintained more skillful
tactics; and all the while the Gothamites looked on and smiled. A few
years later Eugene Shiff, who had spent the greater portion of his life
in France, built a large house on Fifth Avenue which he surmounted with
a mansard roof. These pioneers having set the pace, imposing residences
were erected in rapid succession, and the process has been continued
until the present day.

In December, 1851, New York was agog over the arrival upon the shores of
America of Louis Kossuth. As everyone knows, he was the leader of the
Hungarian revolution of 1848-9, and became the first governor of the
short-lived Hungarian Republic. When this was overthrown by Austria and
other countries, Kossuth fled to Turkey and subsequently sailed for this
country on the U.S. Frigate _Mississippi_. When his arrival became
known, thousands of people thronged the streets anxious to catch a first
glimpse of the distinguished foreigner. One might have fancied from the
enthusiasm displayed that he was one of our own conquering heroes
returning home. Americans were even more sympathetic then than now with
all struggles for political freedom, as the history of our own trying
experiences during the Revolution was, from a sentimental point of view,
even more of a controlling influence than it is to-day. Several months
later I heard Kossuth deliver an address at the National Hotel in
Washington before a large assembly chiefly composed of members of
Congress, when his subject was "Hungary and her woes." I vividly recall
the impression produced upon his audience when, in his deeply melodious
tones, he invoked the "Throne of Grace" and closed with the appealing
words: "What is life without prayer?" I have never before or since
observed an audience so completely under the sway of an orator, as it
seemed to me that there was not a person in the room who at the moment
would not have been willing to acquiesce in whatever demands or appeals
he might present. Kossuth's countenance suggested such profound
depression that one could readily credit the assertion he made during
his remarks, "I have been trained to grief." He wore during the delivery
of his address the picturesque costume of the Magyars of his country.

New York had an unusually large coterie of _litterateurs_, many of whom
it was my good fortune to know. Some of these had only recently returned
from Brook Farm "sadder but wiser" and, at all events, with more
practical views concerning "the world's broad field of battle." Brook
Farm had its origin in 1841, and completely collapsed in 1847. It was
chiefly intended to be the fulfillment of a dream of the Rev. Dr.
William Henry Channing of "an association in which the members, instead
of preying upon one another and seeking to put one another down, after
the fashion of this world, should live together as brothers, seeking one
another's elevation and spiritual growth." It was essentially
socialistic in its conception and execution and, although professedly
altruistic in its nature, was in reality a visionary scheme which
reflected but little credit upon the judgment of either its originators
or its patrons. Its company was composed of "members" and "scholars," to
whom may be added a celebrated list of those who sojourned at the Farm
for brief periods and were known as "visitors." The whole scheme was
without doubt one of the most visionary expressions of New England
transcendentalism, and it failed because in the nature of things no such
ventures ever have succeeded and, until human nature is essentially
revolutionized, probably never can. Among its most distinguished members
were Nathaniel Hawthorne, Charles A. Dana, later the brilliant and
accomplished editor of _The New York Sun_, and George Ripley. George
William Curtis was one of its scholars, and among its visitors were the
Rev. William Henry Channing, Margaret Fuller, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Amos
Bronson Alcott, Orestes Augustus Bronson, Theodore Parker and Elizabeth
P. Peabody--forming together one of the most brilliant intellectual
galaxies that were ever associated in a single enterprise.

Of this number I especially recall George William Curtis, a genius of
the first brilliancy and remarkable withal for his versatile
conversational powers. I was talking to him on one occasion when someone
inquired as to his especial work in the co-operative fold of Brook Farm.
His laughing reply was, "Cleaning door knobs." George Ripley was a
distinguished scholar and a prominent journalist. His wife, a daughter
of Francis Dana, became a convert to Catholicism and is said to have
found much to console her in that faith until her death from cancer in
1861. Margaret Fuller, though not possessed of much outward grace, was a
prolific votary of the pen. I occasionally met her in society before she
started on an European tour where she met her destiny in the person of
the Marquis Giovanni Angelo Ossoli, to whom she was secretly married in
1847. Some years later she embarked with her husband and little boy upon
a sailing vessel for America, and all were lost off the coast of New
York in July, 1850. Horace Sumner, a younger brother of the
distinguished Massachusetts statesman, also perished at the same time.

About 1845 I met Anne C. Lynch of Providence, who came to New York to
promote her literary ambitions, and was a pleasing addition to this same
intellectual circle. She was the author of several prose works and also
of some poetical effusions which were published in 1848 and received
high commendation. She married Vincenzo Botta, a learned Italian who at
one time was a professor in the University of Turin. Their tastes were
similar and the marriage was a very happy one. They lived for many
years on Thirty-seventh Street in New York, where they maintained a
charming _salon_. On Sunday evenings their home was the rendezvous of
many of the literary lights of the metropolis as well as of
distinguished strangers. Some years before her marriage, Mrs. Botta was
visiting in Washington, where she formed a friendship with Henry Clay.
Upon her return to New York he committed to her care a valuable gold
medal, but upon arriving at her home she discovered to her dismay that
it was missing from her trunk. It was the general impression that it had
been stolen from her on her way to New York. About the same time I also
knew Donald G. Mitchell ("Ik Marvel"), but this was before he had
entered upon his active and distinguished literary career, and when he
was a temporary sojourner in New York. He was contributing at that time
some much appreciated letters to various magazines under the signature
of "The Lorgnette," which were subsequently republished as a volume
bearing the same title.

N. P. Willis was another literary genius of the same period whom I had
the pleasure of knowing. He was cordially welcomed into the social world
of New York; but, unfortunately for his popularity, he wrote a prose
effusion entitled, "Those Ungrateful Blidgimses," which was generally
recognized as a direct attack upon two old ladies who were held in high
esteem in New York. It was known to many persons that he had had a
misunderstanding with them and that he had employed this manner of
taking his revenge. New York society frowned upon what was generally
considered his ungallant conduct, and for many years the doors of some
of the most prominent houses in the city were closed against him. As I
remember reading his story at the time, I thought its title was but a
poor disguise, as the sisters were named Bridgens, the christian name of
one of them being Cornelia. This name was distorted into "Crinny," who,
by the way, was a woman of decided ability. It was against her that the
author's animosity was chiefly directed. It seems that the Misses
Bridgens and Mr. Willis chanced to be sojourning at the same time in
Rome, where the scene of his narrative is laid. Miss Crinny was a
sufferer from an attack of Roman fever and, under these dire
circumstances, Mr. Willis represents himself as her attendant, and in
this capacity refuses to condone the peculiarities of the poor old
lady's sick-room. His patience in gratifying her morbid fancies is
graphically described in a vein of ridicule and he tells how by the hour
he threaded what he terms her "imaginary locks." He also dwells at
length upon her conversational powers and likens her tongue to the
elasticity of an eel's tail, which would wag if it were skinned and
fried. Charles Dudley Warner has described this writing of Mr. Willis as
"funny but wicked"; it was more than that--it was cruel! Willis made
another reference to the two sisters in his "Earnest Clay" where he
speaks of "two abominable old maids by the names of Buggins and
Blidgins, representing the _scan. mag._ of Florence."

The New York public was in no hurry to reopen its doors to Mr. Willis;
indeed, it was not until after his marriage to Miss Cornelia Grinnell,
his second wife, that he was again kindly received. I recall with much
pleasure a visit I made at Mrs. Winfield Scott's in New York, after that
city had ceased to be my home, when we went together to dine with Mr.
and Mrs. N. P. Willis at Idlewild, their country home on the Hudson.
These were the days when Mrs. Scott was sometimes facetiously called
_Madame la General_. This charming residence of Mr. Willis was several
miles south of Newburgh, on high ground overlooking the river, and from
its porches there was an enchanting view of West Point. Mr. Willis told
us that when he first came to that vicinity he called the attention of
a countryman from whom he had purchased the land to some uncultivated
acres and asked a suggestion regarding them. "That," said the man,
waving his hand in the direction of the trees, "is nothing but an
Idlewild." The word lingered in Mr. Willis's mind, and he subsequently
adopted it as the name of his new home.

While living in New York we frequently attended parties at the
hospitable home of Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin F. Butler in Washington Place.
He was an elegant gentleman of the old school and had served as Attorney
General in the cabinets of Presidents Jackson and Van Buren. They were
people of deep religious convictions, and consequently all their
entertainments were conducted upon the strictest code of the day. For
example, dancing was never permitted and wine was never served. In place
of dancing there was a continuous promenade. I generally attended these
parties accompanied by my father, who enjoyed meeting the legal lights
of the country, some of whom were always there. Exceptionally handsome
suppers were served at these entertainments, and every effort was made
by Mr. and Mrs. Butler to make up, as it were, for the lack of dancing
which was sorely missed by those more gayly inclined.

A hundred thousand dollars was considered a highly respectable fortune
in New York between sixty and seventy years ago. Seven per cent, was the
usual rate of interest, the cost of living was low, and life was, of
course, much simpler in every way. I recall a prominent young man about
this period, Henry Carroll Marx, commonly called "Dandy Marx," who was
said to be the happy possessor of the amount I have named. He was
devoted to horses and from his home on Broadway he could frequently be
seen driving tandem on the cobblestone streets. I do not remember his
entering the social arena; possibly he avoided it in order to escape the
wiles of designing mothers, whom one occasionally encountered even in
those ancient days. His faultless attire, which in elegance surpassed
all his rivals, won for him the nickname of "Dandy." He also rendered
himself conspicuous as the first gentleman in New York to wear the long,
straight, and pointed waxed mustache. His two maiden sisters were
inseparable companions and nearly every day could be seen walking on
Broadway. Miss Lydia Kane, one of the wits of my day and of whom I have
already spoken, facetiously called them "number 11"--two straight marks!

In 1845 Burton's Theater was an unfailing source of delight to the
pleasure-loving public. William E. Burton was an Englishman of rare
cultivation, and was the greatest comedian New York had ever known.
Although so gifted, his expression of countenance was one of extreme
gravity. His presentation of Aminadab Sleek in the "Serious Family" has,
in my opinion, never been surpassed. He frequently acted in minor
comedies, but the "Serious Family" was his greatest _role_. Niblo's
Garden on Broadway, near Houston Street, was a source of great delight
in those days to all Gothamites. It was in this theater that the Ravel
family had its remarkable athletic performances. When I recall their
graceful, youthful physiques, I am reminded of Hamlet's philosophical
musings in the graveyard: "Where be your gibes now, your gambols, your
songs, your flashes of merriment that were wont to set the table on a
roar?" P. T. Barnum was a conspicuous figure about this time. His museum
was on Broadway, at the corner of Ann Street, and not far from the City
Hall. He was considered a prince of humbugs and perhaps gloried in his
reputation as such. I distinctly remember the excitement which he
created over a mummified old <DW52> woman who, he asserted, had been a
nurse of Washington, and to whom he gave the name of Joice Heth. She was
undoubtedly a very aged negress, but she still retained full powers of
articulation and was well coached to reply in an intelligent manner to
the numerous inquiries respecting her pretended charge. It is needless
to add that she was only one of Barnum's numerous fakes.

Philip Kearny, a handsome gentleman of a former school, who lived at the
corner of Broadway and Leonard Street, was a lavish entertainer. He was
a widower when I knew him, but his daughter, the wife of Major Alexander
S. Macomb, U.S.A., the son and aide of Major General Alexander Macomb,
Commander-in-Chief of the Army, lived with him. Major Macomb was
conspicuous for his attractive personality and imposing presence and was
said to bear a striking resemblance to Prince Albert, the father of
Edward VII. His wife was one of the three heirs of John Watts, who owned
a princely estate. The other two were her brother, the gallant General
Philip Kearny, and her cousin, General John Watts de Peyster, a son of
that most accomplished gentleman, Frederick de Peyster, of whom I have
already spoken. Mrs. Macomb was a generous and attractive woman who
dispensed with a liberal hand the wealth she had inherited. Her pretty
cousins, Mary and Nancy Kearny, whom I knew quite well, daughters of her
father's brothers, were her constant guests. Another frequent visitor of
this household was Mrs. "Phil" Kearny, as she was invariably called,
whose maiden name was Diana Moore Bullitt, a famous Kentucky belle,
well-known for her grace and intellectual attractions. Her sister
Eloise, usually called "Lou" Bullitt by her intimate friends, married
Baron Frederick de Kantzow of Sweden, a courtly foreigner who had
commercial relations with the merchant princes of New York. Tradition
states that the Baroness de Kantzow, though not possessed of Mrs.
Kearny's beauty, was a more successful slayer of hearts than her sister,
and it is said that she had adorers by the score. A third Bullitt
sister, Mary, married General Henry Atkinson and after his death Major
Adam Duncan Steuart, both of the United States Army, the latter of whom
was stationed for many years at Fort Leavenworth.

Mrs. Macomb's health failed at an early period of life and to restore it
she sought a foreign clime; but, alas, her many friends were never
gladdened again by her kindly welcome, as she died abroad. In my young
womanhood I frequently attended parties at the Kearny house where
dancing and other social pleasures enlivened the scene. In this
connection it seems proper to refer at greater length to John Watts and
his interesting trio of daughters. I have already spoken of his son
Robert, who died unmarried at an early age. His two older daughters,
Susanna, wife of Philip Kearny, and Mary Justina, wife of Frederick de
Peyster, did not long survive their marriages; but a third daughter,
Elizabeth, the wife of Henry Laight, who never had children, lived many
years with her father and managed the affairs of his household. An
amusing story was told me many years ago regarding Mrs. Laight which is
well worthy of mention. As a young girl she was deeply in love with the
young man who eventually became her husband, but her father was so
devoted to her and so very dependent upon her that he violently opposed
her marrying anyone. Accordingly, a secret marriage was planned by the
young people to take place in Trinity Church. As the youthful pair was
standing in front of the altar, surrounded by a few sympathetic friends,
the rector reached the words, "Who giveth this woman to be married to
this man?" when, to the astonishment of the assembled group, a gruff,
loud voice in the rear of the church shouted "I do." Old John Watts had
opposed his daughter's marriage with all his might, but when he learned
by chance that she was to be married clandestinely, he graciously
accepted the inevitable and without the knowledge of anyone hurried to
the church and, entering it by a side door, duly performed his part as
just related. This anecdote was told me by Arent Schuyler de Peyster, a
distant cousin of General John Watts de Peyster. Many years later, when
I repeated it to Mrs. Diana Bullitt Kearny, she remarked in her
characteristic manner: "He was mean enough not to even allow her the
satisfaction of a runaway marriage." This estimate of his character,
however, does not seem to agree with that given by others. The Laights
were prominent in New York society. One of them, Edward Laight, whom I
knew as a society beau, was remarkably handsome. He was a good deal of a
flirt and transferred his affections with remarkable facility from one
young woman to another. His sister married a Greek, Mr. Eugene Dutilh, a
gentleman of culture and refinement, who owned a beautiful place at
Garrison's-on-the-Hudson which he sold about 1861 to Hamilton Fish.

Philip Kearny and his family lived next door to Peter A. Jay, and I
frequently met the young people of his household at Mrs. Macomb's
parties. Gouverneur Morris, a son of the distinguished statesman, and
Edward Kearny were _habitues_ of this establishment, as were also Ridley
and Essex Watts, both of whom I knew well. General "Phil" Kearny from
his youthful days was an enthusiastic soldier, but he was not a graduate
of West Point, having been appointed to the regular army from civil life
by President Van Buren in 1837. He served throughout the Mexican War,
where he had the misfortune to lose an arm at the battle of Churubusco,
and was killed during the Civil War in 1862 at the battle of Chantilly.

Speaking of General Macomb, I am reminded of a social _on dit_ of many
years ago. Mrs. August Belmont (Caroline Slidell Perry) lived in a fine
house on Fifth Avenue and frequently gave large receptions. His sister,
Sarah Perry, subsequently Mrs. R. S. Rodgers, was an early friend of
mine. The elegant Major Alexander S. Macomb, who was his father's
namesake and aide, on entering Mrs. Belmont's drawing-room was
unfortunate enough to brush against a handsome vase and completely
shatter it. It was generally conceded that his hostess was conscious of
the disaster, but "was mistress of herself though China fall" and
appeared entirely unconscious of the mishap. Some months later at the
house of Lady Cunard (Mary McEvers), a similar accident happened. The
unfortunate guest, however, in this case was immediately approached by
his hostess, who with much elegant grace begged him not to be disturbed
as the damage was trifling. Immediately society began an animated
discussion, when even the judicial powers of Solomon might have found it
embarrassing to decide which of the two women should be accorded the
greater degree of _savoir faire_.

In 1844, accompanied by my father, I attended the wedding of Estelle
Livingston, daughter of John Swift Livingston, to John Watts de Peyster.
At the time of this marriage, Mr. de Peyster was considered the finest
_parti_ in the city; while, apart from his great wealth, he was so
unusually talented that it was generally believed a brilliant future
awaited him. It was a home wedding, and the drawing-room was well filled
with the large family connection and other invited guests. At this time
Mr. Livingston was a widower, but his sister Maria, Mrs. John C. Stevens
of Hoboken, did the honors of the occasion for her brother. The young
bride presented a charming appearance in all her finery, and at the
bountiful collation following the ceremony champagne flowed freely.
This, however, was no unusual thing, as that beverage was generally seen
at every entertainment in those good old days. Mrs. John C. Stevens
lived at one time in Barclay Street, and I have heard numerous stories
concerning her eccentricities. In 1849 she gave a fancy-dress ball but,
as she had failed to revise her visiting list in many years, persons who
had long been dead were among her invited guests. She was especially
peculiar in her mode of dress, which was not always adapted to her
social position. It is therefore not at all surprising that unfortunate
mistakes were occasionally made in regard to her identity. Another of
her eccentricities consisted in the fact that she positively refused,
when shopping, to recognize even her most intimate friends, as she said
it was simply impossible for her to combine business with pleasure. In
spite of her peculiarities, however, she possessed unusual social charm.
Her husband was prominent in society and business circles. He was
founder of the New York Yacht Club as well as its first president, and
commanded the _America_ in the memorable race in England in 1851, which
won the celebrated cup that Sir Thomas Lipton and other English
yachtsmen have failed to restore to their native land. Mary Livingston,
the younger daughter of John Swift Livingston, was a _petite_ beauty.
She married a distant relative, a son of Maturin Livingston. I am told
that her brother, Johnston Livingston, is still living in New York at a
very advanced age.

Joseph Kemmerer's band was an indispensable adjunct to all social
gatherings in the days of which I am speaking. The number of instruments
used was always in proportion to the size of the entertainment. The
inspiring airs of Strauss and Labitzky, then in vogue, were popular with
the younger set. These airs bring back pleasant memories, as I have
frequently danced to them. The waltz in my day was a fine art and its
votaries were numerous. I recall the fact that Edward James of Albany, a
witty young gentleman with whom I occasionally danced, was such a
devotee to the waltz that, not possessing sufficient will power to
resist its charms and having a delicate constitution, he nearly danced
himself into another world. Two attractive young brothers, Thomas H. and
Daniel Messinger, who were general beaux in society, played their parts
most successfully in the social world by their graceful dancing, and no
ball was considered complete without their presence. These brothers
were associated in the umbrella industry, and Miss Lydia Kane, some of
whose witty remarks I have already quoted, dubbed them the "reigning
beaux!" Daniel Messinger eventually married Miss Elizabeth Coles
Neilson, a daughter of Anthony Bleecker Neilson, and became a Lieutenant
Colonel in the Union Army during the Civil War.

The British Consul General in New York from 1817 to 1843 was James
Buchanan. He was Irish by birth, and many young British subjects
visiting the United States made his home their headquarters. He had
several daughters and, as the whole family was social in its tastes, I
often enjoyed meeting these sturdy representatives of John Bull at his
house. Those I knew best came from "the land of brown heath and shaggy
wood," as in our family we were naturally partial to Scotchmen and, as a
rule, regarded them as desirable acquaintances. Many of these were
graduates of Glasgow University and young men of unusual culture and
refinement. I especially remember Mr. McCorquodale, a nephew of Dr.
Thomas Chalmers, the distinguished Presbyterian Divine of Scotland. He
met his future wife in New York in the person of a wealthy and
attractive widow. Her maiden name I do not recall, although I am
acquainted with certain facts concerning her lineage. She was the
granddaughter of Madame de Genlis.

I doubt whether any of these young Scotchmen whom I met remained
permanently in this country, as they always seemed too loyal to the
"Land o' Cakes" to entirely expatriate themselves. Another young
Scotchman, Mr. Dundas, whom I knew quite well through the Buchanans,
embarked for his native land on board the steamer _President_. This ship
sailed in the spring of 1841 and never reached her destination. What
became of her was never known and her fate remains to this day one of
the mysteries of the sea. In the fall of 1860 the U.S. man-of-war
_Levant_, on her voyage from the Hawaiian Islands to Panama, disappeared
in the same mysterious manner in the Pacific Ocean; and, as was the case
with the _President_, no human being aboard of her was ever heard of
again. There were many conjectures in regard to the fate of this ship,
but the true story of her doom has never been revealed. I remember two
of the officers who perished with her. One of them was Lieutenant Edward
C. Stout, who had married a daughter of Commodore John H. Aulick,
U.S.N., and whose daughters, the Misses Julia and Minnie Stout, are well
remembered in Washington social circles; and the other was Purser Andrew
J. Watson, who was a member of one of the old residential families of
the District of Columbia.




CHAPTER VIII

WASHINGTON IN THE FORTIES


My first visit to Washington was in 1845. I started from New York at
eight o'clock in the morning and reached Philadelphia late the same
afternoon. I broke the journey by spending the night at Jones's Hotel in
the lower part of the city, which was the usual stopping place of
travelers who made this trip. A few years later when the journey from
New York to Washington was made in twelve hours, it was thought that
almost a miracle had been performed.

Mrs. Winfield Scott in 1855 characterized the National Capital as "an
ill-contrived, ill-arranged, rambling, scrambling village"; and it was
certainly all of that when I first saw it. It is not improbable that the
cause of this condition of affairs was a general feeling of uncertainty
as to whether Washington would remain the permanent seat of government,
especially as the West was naturally clamoring for a more centrally
located capital. When I first visited the city the ubiquitous
real-estate agent had not yet materialized, and corner lots, now so much
in demand, could be purchased at a small price. Taxation was moderate
and Congress, then as now, held itself responsible for one-half of the
taxes. As land was cheap there was no necessity for economy in its use,
and spacious fronts were built regardless of back-buildings. In other
cases, when one's funds were limited, the rear of the house was first
built and later a more imposing front was added. The contrast between
the houses of New York, built closely together in blocks, and those in
Washington, with the abundant space around them, was a great surprise
to me. Unlike many other cities, land in Washington, then, as now, was
sold and taxed by the square foot.

My elder sister Fanny had married Charles Eames, Esq., of the Washington
Bar, and my visit was to her. Mr. Eames entered Harvard in 1827 when
less than sixteen years of age, and was a classmate of Wendell Phillips
and of John Lothrop Motley, the historian. The distinguished Professor
of Harvard University, Andrew P. Peabody, LL.D., in referring to him
many years after his death said that he was "the first scholar of his
class, and was regarded as a man of unlimited power of acquisition, and
of marked ability as a public speaker." After leaving Harvard he studied
law, but ill health prevented him from practicing his profession. He
accompanied to Washington George Bancroft, President Polk's Secretary of
the Navy, by whom he was made principal correspondence clerk of the Navy
Department. He remained there but a few months when he became associate
editor of _The Washington Union_ under the well-known Thomas Ritchie,
usually known as "Father Ritchie." He was subsequently appointed by Polk
a commissioner to negotiate a treaty with the Hawaiian Islands, and took
passage upon the U.S. Frigate _Savannah_ and sailed, by way of Cape
Horn, for San Francisco. He unexpectedly found awaiting his arrival in
that city Dr. Gerrit P. Judd, Prime Minister of the King, with two young
Hawaiian princes. After the treaty was made, he returned east and for
six months edited _The Nashville Union_, when he again assumed charge of
_The Washington Union_. President Pierce subsequently appointed him
Minister to Venezuela, where he remained until 1859, and then returned
to Washington, where he practiced his profession for the remainder of
his life. It was while arguing an important case before the Supreme
Court that he was stricken, and he died on the 16th of March, 1867. He
sustained a high reputation as an admiralty lawyer as well as for his
knowledge of international jurisprudence. I have now before me a letter
addressed to his widow by Wendell Phillips only three days after his
death. It is one of the valued possessions of Mr. Eames's daughter, who
is my niece and the wife of that genial Scotchman, Alexander Penrose
Gordon-Cumming. It reads:


     QUINCY, Illinois, March 19, 1867.

     My dear friend,

     I have just crossed from the other side of the Mississippi,
     and am saddened by learning from the papers my old and dear
     friend's death.

     The associations that bind us together go back many, many
     years. We were boys together in sunny months full of frolic,
     plans and hopes. The merriment and the seriousness, the toil
     and the ambition of those days all cluster round him as
     memory brings him to me in the flush of his youth. I have
     seen little of him of late years, as you know, but the roots
     of our friendship needed no constant care; they were too
     strong to die or wilt, and when we did meet it was always
     with the old warmth and intimacy. I feel more alone in the
     world now he has gone. One by one the boy's comrades pass
     over the river and life loses with each some of its
     interest.

     I was hoping in coming years, as life grew less busy, to see
     more of my old playmate, and this is a very unexpected blow.
     Be sure I sympathize with you most tenderly, and could not
     resist the impulse to tell you so. Little as we have met, I
     owe to your kind and frank interest in me a sense of very
     warm and close relation to you--feel as if I had known you
     ever so many years. I hope our paths may lead us more
     together so that I may learn to know you better and gather
     some more distinct ideas of Eames' later years. All his
     youth I have by heart.

          With most affectionate regards believe me

               Very faithfully yours,

               WENDELL PHILLIPS.

     Mrs. Eames.

     I think women never fully realize the strange tenderness
     with which men cling to college mates. No matter how much
     opinions or residence separate grown-up men, to have been
     classmates is a tie that like blood never loosens. Any man
     that has a heart feels it thrill at the sight of one of
     _those_ comrades. Later friendships may be close, never so
     tender--this makes boys of us again at any moment.
     Unfamiliar tears obey its touch, and a singular sense of
     loneliness settles down on survivors--Good-bye.

The young Hawaiian princes to whom I have just referred and who, by the
way, were mere boys, accompanied Dr. Judd to New York where my younger
brother, Malcolm, thinking he might make the acquaintance of some genial
playmates, called to see them. Upon his return from his visit his only
criticism was, "those dusky princes certainly give themselves airs."

My sister, Mrs. Eames, lived in a house on G Street near Twenty-first
Street in what was then known as the First Ward. This general section,
together with a part of Indiana Avenue, some portions of Capitol Hill,
Sixth and Seventh Streets, and all of that part of the city bounded on
the north by K Street, on the south by Pennsylvania Avenue, and westward
of Fourteenth Street to Georgetown, was at this time the fashionable
section of the city. Like many other places in its formative period,
Washington then presented the picture of fine dwelling houses and
shanties standing side by side. I remember, for example, that as late as
1870 a fine residence on the corner of I and Fifteenth Streets was
located next to a small frame house occupied by a  undertaker.
The latter's business was prosperous, but his wealthy neighbor objected
to the constant reminder of death caused by seeing from his fine bay
window the numerous coffins carried in and out. He asked the undertaker
to name his price for his property, but he declined, and all of his
subsequent offers were ignored. Finally, after several years' patient
waiting, during which offer after offer had been politely but positively
rejected, the last one being an almost princely sum, the owner sold his
home and moved away, leaving his humble neighbor in triumphant
possession. This is simply a fair example of the conditions existing in
Washington when I first knew it.

Two rows of houses on Pennsylvania Avenue, known as the "Six and Seven
Buildings," were fashionable dwellings. Admiral David D. Porter, then a
Lieutenant in the Navy, occupied one of them. Miss Catharine L. Brooke
kept a girls' school in another, while still another was the residence
of William Lee of Massachusetts. I have been informed that while serving
in a consular office abroad, under the appointment of President Monroe,
Mr. Lee was commissioned by him to select a dinner set for the White
House.

Architects, if I remember correctly, were almost unknown in Washington
at this time. When a person was sufficiently venturesome to build a
house for himself, he selected a residence suited to his tastes and
directed a builder to erect one like it. Speculative building was
entirely unknown, and if any resident of the District had embarked upon
such a venture he would have been regarded as the victim of a vivid but
disordered fancy.

Mrs. C. R. Latimer kept a fashionable boarding house in a large brick
dwelling facing Lafayette Square where the Belasco Theater now stands.
Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton Fish boarded with her while the former was a
Representative in Congress, and Mr. and Mrs. Sanders Irving, so well and
favorably known to all old Washingtonians, also made this house their
home. Many years later it was the residence of William H. Seward, and he
was living there when the memorable attempt was made in 1865 to
assassinate him. As is well known, it subsequently became the home of
James G. Blaine. When Hamilton Fish was elected to the Senate, he
purchased a house on H Street, between Seventeenth and Eighteenth
Streets, which was afterwards known as the "Porter house." Previously
it had been owned and occupied by General "Phil" Kearny.

The shops of Washington in 1845 were not numerous, and were located
chiefly upon Pennsylvania Avenue, Seventh Street then being a
residential section. The most prominent dry-goods store was kept by
Darius Clagett at the corner of Ninth Street and Pennsylvania Avenue.
Mr. Clagett, invariably cordial and courteous, always stood behind his
counter, and I have had many pleasant chats with him while making my
purchases. Although he kept an excellent selection of goods, it was
usually the custom for prominent Washington folk to make their larger
purchases in Baltimore. A little later Walter Harper kept a dry-goods
store on Pennsylvania Avenue, near Eighth Street, and some years later
two others appeared, one kept by William M. Shuster on Pennsylvania
Avenue, first between Seventh and Eighth Streets, and later between
Ninth and Tenth; and the other by Augustus and Thomas Perry on the
corner of Ninth Street and Pennsylvania Avenue. Charles Demonet, the
confectioner, made his appearance a little later on Pennsylvania Avenue,
between Seventeenth and Eighteenth Streets; but Charles Gautier, on
Pennsylvania Avenue, between Twelfth and Thirteenth Streets, was his
successful rival and was regarded more favorably in aristocratic
circles. Madame Marguerite M. Delarue kept a shop on the north side of
the same avenue, also between Twelfth and Thirteenth Streets, where
small articles of dress dear to the feminine heart could be bought.
There were several large grocery stores on the south side of
Pennsylvania Avenue, between Sixth and Seventh Streets. Benjamin L.
Jackson and Brother were the proprietors of one and James L. Barbour and
John A. Hamilton of another, although the two latter had their business
house at an earlier day on Louisiana Avenue. Louis Vavans was the
accomplished cook and caterer, and sent to their rooms the meals of
many persons temporarily residing in Washington. Joseph Redfern, his
son-in-law, kept a grocery store in the First Ward. Franck Taylor, the
father of the late Rear Admiral Henry C. Taylor, U.S.N., was the
proprietor of a book store on Pennsylvania Avenue, near Four-and-a-Half
Street, where many of the scholarly men of the day congregated to
discuss literary and current topics. His store had a bust of Sir Walter
Scott over its door, and he usually kept his front show-windows closed
to prevent the light from fading the bindings of his books. The Center
Market was located upon the same site as at present, but of course it
has since been greatly enlarged and improved. All the stores on
Louisiana Avenue sold at retail. I remember the grocery store of J.
Harrison Semmes on Ninth Street and Louisiana Avenue, opposite the
Center Market; and the hardware store kept by Joseph Savage on
Pennsylvania Avenue, between Sixth and Seventh Streets, and at another
time between Third and Fourth Streets.

On Fifteenth Street opposite the Treasury was another well-known
boarding house, conducted by Mrs. Ulrich and much patronized by members
of the Diplomatic Corps. Willard's Hotel was just around the corner on
the site of the New Willard, and its proprietor was Caleb Willard.
Brown's Hotel, farther down town, on Pennsylvania Avenue and Sixth
Street, was a popular rendezvous for Congressional people. It was first
called the Indian Queen, and was kept by that prince of hosts, Jesse
Brown. After his death the name was changed to the Metropolitan.

The National Hotel on the opposite corner was the largest hostelry in
Washington. It boasted of a large Southern _clientele_, and until
President Buchanan's administration enjoyed a very prosperous career.
Subsequent to Buchanan's inauguration, however, a mysterious epidemic
appeared among the guests of the house which the physicians of the
District failed to satisfactorily diagnose. It became commonly known as
the "National Hotel disease," and resulted in numerous deaths. A notice
occasionally appeared in the current newspapers stating that the
deceased had died from this malady. Mrs. Robert Greenhow, in her book
published in London during the Civil War, entitled "My Imprisonment and
the First Years of Abolition Rule at Washington," attributes the
epidemic to the machinations of the Republicans, who were desirous of
disposing of President Buchanan. John Gadsby was its proprietor at one
time, from whom it usually went by the name of "Gadsby's." President
Buchanan was one of its guests on the eve of his inauguration.

When I first knew Washington, slavery was in full sway and, with but few
exceptions, all servants were . The wages of a good cook were
only six or seven dollars a month, but their proficiency in the culinary
art was remarkable. I remember once hearing Count Adam Gurowski, who had
traversed the European continent, remark that he had never anywhere
tasted such cooking as in the South. The grace of manner of many of the
elderly male slaves of that day would, indeed, have adorned a court.
When William L. Marcy, who, although a master in statesmanship and
diplomacy, was not especially gifted in external graces, was taking
final leave of the clerks in the War Department, where as Secretary he
had rendered such distinguished services under President Polk, he shook
hands with an elderly  employee named Datcher, who had formerly
been a body servant to President Monroe, and said: "Good-bye, Datcher;
if I had had your manners I should have left more friends behind me."
Some years later, and after my marriage into the Gouverneur family, I
had the good fortune to have passed down to me a venerable <DW52> man
who had served my husband's family for many years and whose name was
"Uncle James." His manner at times was quite overpowering. On entering
my drawing-room on one occasion to greet George Newell, brother-in-law
and guest of ex-Governor Marcy, I found him seated upon a sofa and
apparently engaged in a "brown study." Referring at once to "Uncle
James," he inquired: "Who is that man?" Upon my replying, "An old family
servant," he remarked: "Well, he is the most polite man I have ever
met."

Some years later my sister, Mrs. Eames, moved into a house on the corner
of H and Fourteenth Streets, which she and her husband had built and
which she occupied until her death in 1890. I naturally shrink from
dwelling in detail upon her charm of manner and social career, and
prefer rather to quote an extract from a sketch which appeared in one of
the newspapers just after her death:

     ... During the twenty-eight years of her married life in
     Washington Mrs. Eames's house was one of the favorite
     resorts of the most conspicuous and interesting men of the
     nation; it was a species of neutral ground where men of all
     parties and shades of political opinion found it agreeable
     to foregather. Though at first in moderate circumstances and
     living in a house which rented for less than $300 a year,
     there was no house in Washington except, perhaps, the
     President's, where one was sure of meeting any evening
     throughout the year so many people of distinction.

[Illustration: MRS. CHARLES EAMES, NEE CAMPBELL, BY GAMBADELLA.

_Owned by Mrs. Gordon-Cumming._]

     Mr. and Mrs. Marcy were devoted to Mrs. Eames; her _salon_
     was almost the daily resort of Edward Everett, Rufus Choate,
     Charles Sumner, Secretary [James] Guthrie, Governor [John
     A.] Andrews of Massachusetts, Winter Davis, Caleb Cushing,
     Senator Preston King, N.P. Banks, and representative men of
     that ilk. Mr. [Samuel J.] Tilden when in Washington was
     often their guest. The gentlemen, who were all on the most
     familiar terms with the family, were in the habit of
     bringing their less conspicuous friends from time to time,
     thus making it quite the most attractive _salon_ that has
     been seen in Washington since the death of Mrs. Madison, and
     made such without any of the attractions of wealth or
     luxury.

     The relations thus established with the public men of the
     country at her fireside were strengthened and enriched by a
     voluminous correspondence. Her father, who was a very
     accomplished man, had one of the largest and choicest
     private libraries in New York, of which, from the time she
     could read, Mrs. Eames had the freedom; in this library she
     spent more time than anyone else, and more than anywhere
     else, until her marriage. As a consequence, it is no
     disparagement to any one else to say that during her
     residence there she was intellectually quite the most
     accomplished woman in Washington. Her epistolary talent was
     famous in her generation.

     Her correspondence if collected and published would prove to
     have been not less voluminous than Mme. de Sevigne's and, in
     point of literary art, in no particular inferior to that of
     the famous French woman.

After three or four months spent in Washington, I returned to my home in
New York; and several years later, in the spring of 1848, suffered one
of the severest ordeals of my life. I refer to my father's death. No
human being ever entered eternity more beloved or esteemed than he, and
as I look back to my life with him I realize that I was possibly more
blessed than I deserved to be permitted to live with such a well-nigh
perfect character and to know him familiarly. From my earliest childhood
I was accustomed to see the sorrowing and oppressed come to him for
advice. He was especially qualified to perform such a function owing to
his long tenure of the office of Surrogate. Widows and orphans who could
not afford litigation always found in him a faithful friend. With a
capacity of feeling for the wrongs of others as keenly as though
inflicted upon himself, his sympathy invariably assumed a practical form
and he accordingly left behind him hosts of sorrowing and grateful
hearts. A short time before his death I visited a dying widow, a devoted
Roman Catholic, whom from time to time my father had assisted. When I
was about to leave, she said: "Say to your father I hope to meet him
among the just made perfect." This remark of a poor woman has been to me
through all these years a greater consolation than any public tribute or
imposing eulogy. Finely chiseled monuments and fulsome epitaphs are not
to be compared with the benediction of grateful hearts.

The funeral services were conducted, according to the custom of sixty
years ago, by the Rev. Dr. William Adams and the Rev. Dr. Philip
Milledoler. Members of the bar and many prominent residents of New York,
including his two physicians, Doctors John W. Francis and Campbell F.
Stewart, walked behind the coffin, which, by the way, was not placed in
a hearse but was carried to the Second Street Cemetery, where his
remains were temporarily placed. There were six clergymen present at his
funeral--the Rev. Doctors Thomas De Witt, Thomas E. Vermilye, Philip
Milledoler, William Adams, John Knox and George H. Fisher, all ministers
of the Reformed Dutch Church except the Rev. Dr. Adams, the
distinguished Presbyterian divine.

I find myself almost instinctively returning to the Scott family as
associated with the most cherished memories of some of the happiest days
of my life. During my childhood I formed a close intimacy with Cornelia
Scott, the second daughter of the distinguished General, which continued
until the close of her life. When I first knew the family it made its
winter home in New York at the American Hotel, then a fashionable
hostelry kept by William B. Cozzens, on the corner of Barclay Street and
Broadway. In the summer the family resided at Hampton, the old Mayo
place near Elizabeth in New Jersey, where they kept open house. Colonel
John Mayo of Richmond, whose daughter Maria was the wife of General
Scott, had purchased this country seat many years before as a favor to
his wife, Miss Abigail De Hart of New Jersey, and Mrs. Scott
subsequently inherited it. Colonel John Mayo, who was a citizen of
large wealth and great prominence, was so public-spirited that not long
subsequent to the Revolutionary War, and entirely at his own expense, he
built from his own plans a bridge across the James River at Richmond. I
have heard Mrs. Scott graphically describe her father's trips from
Richmond to Elizabeth in his coach-of-four with outriders and grooms,
and his enthusiastic reception when he reached his destination.

I have frequently heard it said that Mrs. Scott as a young woman refused
the early offers of marriage from the man who eventually became her
husband because his rank in the army was too low to suit her taste, but
that she finally relented when he became a General. I am able to
contradict this statement as Mrs. Scott told me with her own lips that
she never made his acquaintance until he was a General, in spite of the
fact that they were both natives of the same State. This did not by any
means, however, indicate a marriage late in life, as General Scott
became a Brigadier General on the 9th of March, 1814, when he was
between twenty-seven and twenty-eight years of age. In the _Sentinel_,
published in Newark, New Jersey, on the 25th of March, 1817, the
following marriage notice appears:

     Married--at Belleville, Virginia, at the seat of Col. Mayo,
     General Winfield Scott of the U.S. Army to Miss Maria D.
     Mayo.

Mrs. Scott's record as a belle was truly remarkable, and in the latter
years of her life when I knew her very intimately she still retained
traces of great beauty. Her accomplishments, too, were extraordinary for
that period. She was not only a skilled performer upon the piano and
harp, but also a linguist of considerable proficiency, while her grace
of manner and brilliant powers of repartee added greatly to her social
charms. On one occasion during Polk's administration she attended a
levee at the White House, and as she passed down the line with the other
guests she received an enthusiastic welcome and was soon so completely
surrounded by an admiring throng that for a while Mrs. Polk was left
very much to herself. It was Mrs. Scott who wrote in the album of a
friend the verse entitled, "The Two Faults of Men." Two other verses
were written under it several years later by the Hon. William C.
Somerville of Maryland, at one time our Minister to Sweden, and the
author of "Letters from Paris on the Causes and Consequences of the
French Revolution."

    Women have many faults,
      The men have only two;
    There's nothing right they say,
      And nothing right they do.

    _Reply_

    That men are naughty rogues we know,
      The girls are roguish, too.
    They watch each other wondrous well
      In everything they do.

    But if we men do nothing right,
      And never say what's true,
    What precious fools you women are
      To love us as you do.

Many years ago General and Mrs. Scott traveled with their youthful
family through Europe, and while at the French Capital Mrs. Scott
attended a fancy-dress ball where she represented Pocahontas and was
called _La belle sauvage_. I have talked to two elderly officers of our
Army, Colonel John M. Fessenden and General John B. Magruder, the latter
subsequently of Confederate fame, and both of them told me that at this
entertainment she was an object of general admiration. Many years later,
long after Mrs. Scott's death, I was visiting her daughter, Mrs. Henry
L. Scott, for the last time at the old Elizabeth home, accompanied by my
young daughter Maud, when the latter was invited to a fancy-dress ball
given to children at the residence of General George Herbert Pegram. At
first I was at my wits' end to devise a suitable gown for her to wear,
when Mrs. Scott brought out the historic fancy dress worn by her mother
so many years before in Paris and gave it to me. It seems almost
needless to add that the child wore the dress, and that I have it now
carefully put away among my treasured possessions. Many years subsequent
to Mrs. Scott's visit to Paris, her sister, Mrs. Robert Henry Cabell of
Richmond, published for the benefit of a charity her letters written
from abroad to her family in Virginia, containing many interesting
recollections of Paris.

At the beginning of the Mexican War the Scotts were living in New York
but, for a reason I do not now recall, Mrs. Scott decided to spend a
winter during the General's absence in Philadelphia. She secured a
portion of a furnished house at 111 South Sixth Street, and in the
spring of 1847 I was invited to be her guest. The evening of the day of
my arrival I attended a party at the residence of Judge John Meredith
Read, a descendant of George Read, a Signer from Delaware. Upon the
urgent request of Mrs. Scott I went to this entertainment entirely
alone, as she and her daughter Cornelia were indisposed and she wished
her household to be represented. Judge Read was a widower and some years
later I renewed my acquaintance with him in Washington. During my visit
in Philadelphia, Mrs. Scott was suddenly called away and hesitated about
leaving us two young girls in the house alone, her younger daughters
being absent at school. Finally, she made arrangements for us to spend
the days of her absence in Burlington, New Jersey, with Miss Susan
Wallace, a friend of hers and a niece of the Hon. William Bradford,
Attorney-General during a portion of Washington's last administration.
This, however, was not altogether a satisfactory arrangement for us
young people and we became decidedly restless, but to Burlington we went
just the same. Meanwhile, news came from Mexico of a great American
victory and the public went wild with enthusiasm. Philadelphia made
plans to celebrate the glad event on a certain evening, and Cornelia
Scott and I decided to return to Philadelphia for the festivities. We
carefully planned the trip and took as our protector a faithful <DW52>
man named Lee. Arabella Griffith, an adopted daughter of Miss Wallace,
also accompanied us, and as another companion we took Mrs. Scott's pet
dog _Gee_ whom, before the evening was over, we found to be very
troublesome. We made the trip to Philadelphia by water and landed in an
out-of-the-way portion of the city. Owing to the dense crowds assembled
to view the decorations, illuminations and fireworks, we were unable to
procure a carriage and consequently were obliged to walk, while, to cap
the climax, in pushing through the crowd we lost Miss Griffith. General
Scott's name was upon the lips of everyone, and his pictures were seen
hanging from many windows; yet the daughter of the hero who was the
cause of all the enthusiasm was a simple wayfarer, rubbing elbows with
the multitude, unrecognized and entirely ignored. I may state, by the
way, that Arabella Griffith subsequently became the wife of General
Francis C. Barlow and that, while her husband was fighting the battles
of his country during the Civil War, she did noble service in the Union
hospitals as a member of the United States Sanitary Commission, and died
in the summer of 1864 from a fever contracted in the hospitals of the
Army of the Potomac.

I remained in Philadelphia much longer than I had originally
anticipated, and unexpected warm weather found me totally unprepared. I
immediately wrote to my sister Margaret and asked her to send me some
suitable apparel. Her letter in reply to mine, which I insert, gives
something of an idea of New York society of that period. As she was
quite a young girl her references to Miss Julia Gerard whom she knew
quite well and "Old Leslie Irving," who, by the way, was only a young
man, must be regarded merely as the silly utterances of extreme youth:--

     Dear Sister,

     I received your letter and as it requires an immediate
     answer, I shall commence writing you one. I believe in my
     last I mentioned to you that I was going to Virginia Wood's
     [Mrs. John L. Rogers] the following evening. I went with
     [William B.] Clerke [a young broker] and had quite a
     pleasant time. There were two young ladies there from
     Virginia whose names I do not know, Dr. Augustine Smith's
     daughter, myself, Mr. Galliher, Mr. Rainsford, Mr. Bannister
     and Mr. Pendleton [John Pendleton of Fredericksburg,
     Virginia]. I was introduced to the latter and liked him
     quite well. I had a long talk with him. His manners are
     entirely too coquettish to suit me; he does nothing but
     shrug his shoulders and roll up his eyes--perhaps it is a
     Virginia custom. He seems to think Miss Gerard [Julia,
     daughter of James W. Gerard] his _belle_ ideal or _beau_
     ideal of everything lovely, etc. I told him that I thought
     her awful, that she had such an inanimate sickly expression,
     and I abused her at a great rate! I expect he thinks I am a
     regular devil!

     Tonight I am going to the opera. "Lucretia Borgia" is to be
     performed. I have learned a song from Lucia. So you can
     imagine how much the rooster has improved!

     On Thursday evening I was at the Moore's [Dr. William
     Moore]. Frank Bucknor came for me and brought me home. His
     sister [Cornelia Bucknor, subsequently the wife of Professor
     John Howard Van Amringe of Columbia College] was there, Beek
     Fish [Beekman Fish], Bayard Fish, Dr. [Adolphus] Follin, old
     Leslie Irving and Frank Van Rensselaer. Miss Moore told me
     that May came for us that evening to go to the Academy. I am
     dreadfully sorry that you will not be able to go to the
     Kemble [Mrs. William Kemble] ball; they are going to have
     it on Monday. I dare say it will be very pleasant and old
     Chrystie will be there. Emily B. [Emily Bucknor] and Frank
     [Bucknor] are going.

     My hat has come home, and it is very pretty; it is a sherred
     blue crape, without any ribbon--trimmed very simply with
     blue crape and illusion mixed and the same inside.

     Mrs. William Le Roy has been to see you. Ma thinks that you
     had better come home when you first expected--on Tuesday or
     Wednesday. I am very much disappointed that you are not here
     to go to the Kembles as you have a dress to wear.

     You can tell Adeline [Adeline Camilla Scott], if you please,
     that Mr. Pendleton wants to know the use of sending her to
     school when her head is filled with beaux and parties. I
     told him her mother did it to keep her out of mischief.
     Bucknor says he thinks it is time for you to come home. If
     you stay much longer my spring fever will come on and I
     shall get so many things there will be no money left for
     you. Besides Mr. Pendleton is going to the Bucknor's some
     day next week and I am going to get him to stop for me, and
     if you are home I shall invite you to go along. Beek Fish
     will be there the same evening with his flute. He told Emily
     B. that his sister [Mrs. Thomas Pym Remington of
     Philadelphia] had written them that you had been in
     Philadelphia and that she was so delighted to see you.

     Leslie Irving told me that he had seen a letter in the
     Commercial Advertiser from Thomas Turner [subsequently Rear
     Admiral Turner, U.S.N.] to Hamilton Fish. He thought of
     sending it to you, but he thought some one else had probably
     done so. I hear that they [the Fishes] are to have a party.
     The Bankheads [General James Bankhead's daughters] are going
     to spend the summer at West Point. Pa and Jim are better. Pa
     rode out yesterday and walked out to-day. He has been in a
     great state of excitement about General Scott. It was
     reported two days ago that he was killed and he was afraid
     it was true. Vera Cruz, I believe, is taken. I cannot write
     any longer, I'm so tired. I will send Cornelia's [Cornelia
     Scott] purse by H. Forbes [Harriet Forbes, Mrs. Colhoun of
     Philadelphia].

          M. CAMPBELL.

     Saturday April 10th.

     Pa thinks it is time for you to come home. Do you know of
     any opportunity? I shall not send anything to you. You see
     you never will take my advice in anything. I told you to
     bring your pink dress with you but you would not. I suppose
     I shall not hear from you again. Pa says you can do as you
     please about staying longer.

Elizabeth, New Jersey, was a quaint old town whose inhabitants seemed
almost exclusively made up of Barbers, Ogdens and Chetwoods, with a
sprinkling of De Harts. There was a steamboat plying between
Elizabethport (now a part of the City of Elizabeth) and New York, and we
were its frequent patrons. Ursino, the country seat of the Kean family,
then as now was one of the historic places of the neighborhood. As I
remember the beautiful old home, it was occupied by John Kean, father of
the late senior U.S. Senator from New Jersey. At an earlier period the
latter's great-grandfather had married Susan Livingston, a daughter of
Peter Van Brough Livingston of New York, and resided at Ursino. After
the death of her husband she married Count Julian Niemcewicz, who was
called the "Shakespeare of Poland" and who came to America with
Kosciusco, upon whose staff he had served. She was also the grandmother
of Mrs. Hamilton Fish. Another noted estate in the same general
neighborhood, was "Abyssinia," owned and occupied for a long period by
the Ricketts family, whose walls were highly decorated by one of its
artistic members. I am informed that it still stands but that it is
used, alas, for mechanical purposes!

I recall with intense pleasure another of my visits to New Jersey when I
was a guest at the home of General and Mrs. Scott in Elizabeth. Isabella
Cass of Detroit, daughter of General Lewis Cass, was also there at the
same time. She attended school in Paris while her father was Minister to
France and received other educational advantages quite unusual for women
at that time. While residing in Washington at a subsequent period she
was regarded as one of the reigning belles. She married a member of the
Diplomatic Corps from the Netherlands and lived and died abroad. A
constant visitor of the Scott family whom I recall with great pleasure
was Thomas Turner, subsequently an Admiral in our Navy. He was a
Virginian by birth and a near relative of General Robert E. Lee; but,
though possessing the blood of the Carters, he remained during the Civil
War loyal to the national flag. His wife was Frances Hailes Palmer of
"Abyssinia."

Still another guest of the Scotts in Elizabeth was the erratic but
decidedly brilliant Doctor William Starbuck Mayo. Although Mrs. Scott
was a Mayo, they were not related. He was from the northern part of the
State of New York, while Mrs. Scott, as is well known, was from
Virginia. Doctor Mayo, however, was an ardent admirer of Mrs. Scott and
made the fact apparent in much that he said and did. He was the author
of several works, one of which was a romance entitled "Kaloolah," which
he dedicated to Mrs. Scott. When I met him in Washington he was on his
first bridal tour, although pretty well advanced in years. His bride was
Mrs. Henry Dudley of New York, whose maiden name was Helen Stuyvesant.
She was the daughter of Nicholas William Stuyvesant and one of the heirs
of the large estate of Peter G. Stuyvesant. During Van Buren's
administration, Doctor Mayo was a social light in Washington.

There was another Dr. Mayo--Robert Mayo of Richmond--who, in some
respects, created a temporary commotion in public life in Washington and
elsewhere. He was a Virginian by birth, and at one time figured
prominently as a politician. He engaged in the presidential campaign of
1828 as an ardent partisan of General Jackson and during that period
edited in Richmond the _Jackson Democrat_. He subsequently, however,
parted company with his presidential idol, and in 1839 published a
volume entitled, "Political Sketches of Eight Years in Washington,"
which is almost exclusively devoted to an arraignment of General
Jackson's administration. In an original letter now before me, written
by Martin Van Buren to Governor William C. Bouck, of New York, which has
never before appeared in print, he speaks in an amusing manner of Dr.
Mayo. I insert the whole letter, as his allusions to General Jackson are
of exceptional interest. No one can well deny that the parting
admonition of Polonius to his son Laertes is a masterpiece of human
wisdom, but this letter of the "Sage of Lindenwald" to Governor Bouck
reveals ability by no means inferior to that of this wise councilor of
Denmark.

     [EX-PRESIDENT VAN BUREN TO GOV. WILLIAM C. BOUCK OF N.Y.]

     Confidential.

     Lindenwald,
     Jan^y. 17th 1843.

     My dear Sir,

     I embrace the occasion of a short visit of my son Major Van
     Buren to Albany before he goes South to drop you a few
     lines. Although I have not admitted it in my conversations
     with those who are given to croaking, and thus alarm our
     friends, I have nevertheless witnessed with the keenest
     regret the distractions among our friends at Albany; & more
     particularly in relation to the state printing. It is
     certainly a lamentable winding up of a great contest
     admirably conducted &, as we supposed, gloriously
     terminated. Without undertaking to decide who is right or
     who is wrong, and much less to take any part in the
     unfortunate controversy, I cannot but experience great pain
     from the eying of so bitter a controversy in the face of the
     enemy among those who once acted together so honorably & so
     usefully, and for all of whom I have so much reason to
     cherish feelings of respect & regard. Permit me to make one
     suggestion, & that relates to the importance of a speedy
     decision, one way or the other. Nothing is so injurious in
     such cases as delay. It is almost better to decide wrong
     than to protract the contest. Every day makes new enemies &
     increases the animosities of those who have already become
     so, & extends them to other subjects; and yet nothing is so
     natural as to desire to put off the decision of
     controversies among friends. Most happy would I be to find
     that you had been able to mitigate, if not altogether to
     obviate, existing difficulties by providing places for one
     or more of the competitors in other branches of the public
     service to which they are adapted & with which they would be
     as well satisfied.

     It has afforded me unfeigned satisfaction to learn, as I do
     from all quarters, that you keep your own secrets in regard
     to appointments, & don't feed every body with promises or
     what they construe into promises--a practice which so many
     public men are apt to fall into, & by which they make
     themselves more trouble & subject themselves to more
     discredit than they dream of. Persevere in that course,
     consider carefully every case & make the selection which
     your own unbiassed judgment designates as the best, & above
     all let the people see as clear as day that you do not yield
     yourself to, or make battle against, any cliques or sections
     of the party, but act in good faith and to the best of your
     ability for the good of the whole, and you may be assured
     that the personal discontents which you would to some extent
     occasion, if you had the wisdom of Solomon & were pure as an
     angel, will do you no harm & be exceedingly evanescent in
     their duration. The Democratic is a reasonable & a just
     party & more than half of the business is done when they are
     satisfied that the man they have elected means to do right.
     The difficulty with a new administration is in the
     beginning. At the start little matters may create a distrust
     which it will take a series of good acts to remove. But once
     a favourable impression is made & the people become
     satisfied that the right thing is intended, it takes great
     errors, often repeated, to create a counter current. Will
     you excuse me if, from a sincere desire for your success, I
     go farther & touch upon matters not political, or at least
     not wholly so? Your situation of course excites envy &
     jealousy on the part of some. It is impossible from the
     character of man that it should be otherwise, bear yourself
     ever so meekly & you cannot avoid it. There will therefore
     in Albany, as well as elsewhere, be people who will make ill
     natured remarks & there will be still more who will make it
     their business, in the hope of benefitting themselves, to
     bring you exaggerated accounts of what is said, and if they
     lack materials they will tell you, if they find that you
     like to listen to small things, a great deal that never has
     been said. It is my deliberate opinion that these
     mischievous gossips cause public men more vexation, yes, ten
     fold, than all the cares & anxieties of office taken
     together. I have seen perhaps as much of this as any man of
     my age, & claim to be a competent judge of the evil & its
     remedies. The greatest fault I ever saw in our excellent
     friend Gen^l. Jackson, was the facility with which (in
     carrying out his general principle that it was the duty of
     the President to hear all) he leant his ear, though not his
     confidence, to such people. Though very sagacious & very apt
     to put the right construction upon all such revelations, it
     was still evident that he was every day more or less annoyed
     by them. I endeavored to satisfy him of the expediency of
     shutting their mouths, but did not succeed, & I am as sure
     as I can be of any such thing that if the truth could be
     known it would appear that he had experienced more annoyance
     from such sources than from all the severe trials through
     which he had to pass & did pass with such unfading glory.
     Having his case before me, I determined to profit by the
     experience I had acquired in so good a school. I had no
     sooner taken possession of the White House than I was beset
     by these harpies. The way in which I treated the whole crew,
     with variations of course according to circumstances, will
     appear from the following dialogue in a single case. The
     celebrated Dr. Mayo called upon me & in his stuttering &
     mysterious way commenced by asking when he could have a few
     minutes very private conversation with me. Knowing the man,
     I anticipated his business & told him now, I will hear you
     now. He then told me he had discovered a conspiracy to
     destroy me politically the particulars of which he felt it
     to be his duty to lay before [me]. I replied instantly, &
     somewhat sternly, Dr., I do not wish to hear them. I have
     irrefragable proof, he replied. I don't care, was the
     response. It is in writing, Sir, said he. I won't look at
     it, Sir. What, said he, don't you want to see it if it is in
     writing & genuine? An emphatic No, Sir, closed the
     conversation. The Dr. raised his eyes and hands as if he
     thought me demented, & making a low bow & ejaculating a long
     Hah-hah retreated for the door. The story about the Dr. got
     out and, partly by mine & I believe in part also by his
     means, & alarmed all the story tellers who heard of it. A
     few repetitions of the same dose to others impressed the
     whole crew with a conviction that nothing was to be gained
     by bringing such reports to me. The consequence was that
     although Washington is perhaps the most gossiping place in
     the world, I escaped its contamination altogether, and had
     no trouble except such as unavoidably grew out of my public
     duties; and although I had perhaps a more vexatious time
     than any of my predecessors in that respect I was the only
     man, they all say, who grew fat in that office.

     I was happy to learn from my son John by a letter received
     yesterday the high opinion he entertains of your discreet &
     honorable bearing in the midst of the difficulties by which
     you are beset. I hope he & Smith, [another son of Martin Van
     Buren], exercise the discretion by which their course has
     heretofore been governed, in meddling as little with things
     political that do not belong to them as possible. They know
     that such is my wish, as any contest there must necessarily
     be more or less between my friends; and I shall be obliged
     to you to give them from time to time such advice upon the
     subject as you may think proper. Be assured that they will
     take it in good part. You may, if you please, at your
     convenience, return me the suggestions I sent you, as I may
     have occasion to weave some parts of them into letters that
     I am frequently obliged to write; the rough draft was made
     with a pencil & is now illegible. Be assured that your not
     using them occasioned me no mortification, as I before told
     you it would not. You had a nearer & could take a safer view
     of things than myself. Don't trouble yourself to answer this
     letter as it requires none; only excuse me for writing you
     one so unmercifully long.

     Remember me kindly to Mrs. Bouck, & believe me to be

          Very sincerely your friend,

               M. VAN BUREN.

     His Excellency,
     Wm. C. Bouck.

In 1850 General and Mrs. Scott moved to Washington and Hampton was
closed for many years. They lived in one of the houses built by Count De
Menou, French Minister to this country from 1822 to 1824, on H Street,
between Thirteenth and Fourteenth Streets, on the present site of the
Epiphany Parish House. These residences were commonly called the "chain
buildings," owing to the fact that their fences were made almost
entirely of iron chains. Two of them, thrown into one, were occupied by
the Scotts and were owned by my father-in-law, Samuel L. Gouverneur,
senior. In the third, the property of Mrs. Beverly Kennon, lived the
venerable Mrs. Alexander Hamilton and her only daughter, Mrs. Hamilton
Holly.




CHAPTER IX

SOCIAL LEADERS IN WASHINGTON LIFE


I passed many delightful hours in the Washington home of General Scott
and had a standing invitation to come and go as I pleased. Upon his
return from the war with Mexico, crowned with the laurels of victory, he
immediately became one of the most prominent lions of the day. He had
successfully invaded a practically unknown country reeking with the
terrible _vomito_, a disease upon which the Mexicans relied to kill
their foes more expeditiously than ammunition, and had well earned for
himself the plaudits of a grateful country. I distinctly remember that
he received flattering letters from the Duke of Wellington and other
distinguished foreigners congratulating him upon his military success.
His headquarters were now established in Washington, and his house
became one of the most prominent social centers of the National Capital.
About this time Mrs. Scott was much in New York, where her third
daughter, Marcella, subsequently Mrs. Charles Carroll McTavish, was
attending school, and consequently her daughter Cornelia, who not long
before had married her father's aide, Henry Lee Scott of North Carolina,
was virtually mistress of the establishment. Mrs. Henry Lee Scott's
social sway in Washington was almost unprecedented. She was as grand in
appearance as she was in character, and during one of her visits to Rome
she sat for a distinguished artist as a model for his pictures of the
Madonna. General Scott seemed to derive much pleasure and satisfaction
from the society of his former companions in arms, who were always
welcomed to his hospitable board. Among those I especially recall were
Colonels John Abert, Roger Jones, William Turnbull and Ichabod B. Crane,
whose son, Dr. Charles H. Crane, later became Surgeon General of the
Army. These occasions were especially delightful to me as a young woman,
and I always regarded it as an exceptional privilege to be present.

The Whig party meanwhile nominated General Scott for the presidency. The
opposing candidate was Franklin Pierce. One day during the campaign
Scott, in replying to a note addressed to him by William L. Marcy,
Secretary of War in Polk's cabinet, began his note: "After a hasty plate
of soup"--supposing that his note would be regarded as personal. Marcy,
who was a keen political foe, was too astute a politician, however, not
to take advantage of the chance to make Scott appear ridiculous. He
classified the note as official, and the whole country soon resounded
with it. I saw General Scott when he returned from his Mexican campaign,
covered with glory, to confront his political enemies at home, and I was
also with him in 1852 when the announcement arrived that he had been
defeated as a presidential candidate. Were I called upon to decide in
which character he appeared to the greater advantage, that of the victor
or the vanquished, I should unhesitatingly give my verdict to the
latter. There was a grandeur in his bearing under the adverse
circumstances with which the success and glamour of arms could not
compare.

The Rev. Dr. Smith Pyne, the beloved rector of St. John's Episcopal
Church, often mingled with the distinguished guests gathered at the
residence of General Scott. He was full of life and fun and good cheer
and would even dare, when occasion offered, to aim his jokes and puns at
General Scott himself. At one of the General's dinners, for example,
while the soup was being served, he addressed him as "Marshal
_Turenne_." It is said that upon one occasion, when the good rector
failed by polite efforts to dismiss a book-agent, he was regretfully
compelled to order him from his house. "Your cloth protects you," said
the offended agent. "The cloth protects _you_," replied Dr. Pyne, "and
it will not protect you long if you do not leave this instant." In spite
of this incident, it was well known that the Doctor had a tender and
sympathetic nature. After he had officiated at the funerals of his
parishioners it is said that his wife was frequently compelled to exert
all her efforts to arouse him from his depression. About this same
period, Ole Bull, the great Norwegian violinist who was second only to
Paganini, was receiving an enthusiastic reception from audiences
"panting for the music which is divine." Upon this particular evening
Dr. Pyne sat next to me, when he suddenly exclaimed: "If honorary
degrees were conferred upon musicians, Ole Bull would be Fiddle D.D." At
another time, when Dr. Edward Maynard, a well-known Washington dentist,
was remodeling his residence on Pennsylvania Avenue, now a portion of
the Columbia Hospital, Dr. Pyne was asked to what order of architecture
it belonged and replied: "_Tusk-can_, I suppose,"--a pretty poor pun,
but no worse, perhaps, than most of those one hears nowadays. The Rev.
Dr. Pyne performed the marriage ceremony, at the "chain buildings," of
General Scott's second daughter, Adeline Camilla, and Goold Hoyt of New
York. It was a quiet wedding and only the members of the family were
present. I remember the bride as one of the most beautiful women I have
ever known; her face reminded me of a Roman cameo.

General Scott was something of an epicure. I have seen him sit down to a
meal where jowl was the principal dish, and have heard his exclamation
of appreciation caused in part, possibly, by his recollection of similar
fare in other days in Virginia. He did the family marketing personally,
and was very discriminating in his selection of food. Terrapin, which
he insisted upon pronouncing t_a_rrapin, was his favorite dish, and he
would order oysters by the barrel from Norfolk. On one occasion he
attended a banquet where all the States of the Union were represented by
a dish in some way characteristic of each commonwealth. Pennsylvania was
represented by a bowl of sauer-<DW62>; and in speaking of the fact the
next morning the General remarked: "I partook of it with tears in my
eyes."

New Year's day in Washington was a festive occasion, especially in the
home where I was a guest. General and Mrs. Scott kept open house and of
course most of the Army officers stationed in Washington, and some from
the Navy, called to pay their respects. All appeared in full-dress
uniform, and a bountiful collation was served. I was present at several
of these receptions and recall that after the festivities of the day
were nearly over General Scott, who of course had paid his respects to
the President earlier in the day, always called upon two venerable
women--Mrs. "Dolly" Madison, who then lived in the house now occupied by
the Cosmos Club, and Mrs. Alexander Hamilton, his next door neighbor.
During the winter of 1850, which I spent with the Scotts, I participated
with them in the various social enjoyments of the season.

Early in the month of January, 1851, and not long after the
re-assembling of Congress, that genial gentleman, William W. Corcoran,
gave his annual ball to both Houses of Congress, and it was in many ways
a notable entertainment. As this was long previous to the erection of
his public art gallery, his house was filled with many paintings and
pieces of statuary. Powers's "Greek slave," which now occupies a
conspicuous place in the Corcoran Art Gallery, stood in the
drawing-room. General Scott did not care especially for large evening
entertainments, but he always attended those of Mr. Corcoran. In this
instance I was the only member of the household who accompanied him,
and the ovation that awaited his arrival was enthusiastic; and as I
entered the ballroom with him I received my full share of attention.
Among the prominent guests was General "Sam" Houston, arrayed in his
blue coat, brass buttons and ruffled shirt. His appearance was patrician
and his courtesy that of the inborn gentleman. I once laughingly
remarked to General Scott that General Houston in some ways always
recalled to me the personal appearance of General Washington. His
facetious rejoinder was: "Was ever the Father of his Country so
defamed?" I met at this entertainment for the first time Charles Sumner,
who had but recently taken his seat in the U.S. Senate and of whom I
shall speak hereafter. Caleb Cushing was also there, and Cornelia Marcy,
the beautiful daughter of William L. Marcy, was one of the belles of the
ball. I have stated that General Scott did not generally attend evening
entertainments; in his own way, however, he took great interest in all
social events, and upon my return from parties, sometimes at a very late
hour, I have often found him awaiting my account of what had transpired.

I have spoken of General Houston's appearance. I now wish to refer to
his fine sense of honor. He was married on the 22d of January, 1829, to
Miss Eliza Allen, daughter of Colonel John Allen, from near Gallatin,
the county town of Sumner county in Tennessee, and separated from her
directly after the marriage ceremony under, as is said, the most painful
circumstances. The wedding guests had departed and General Houston and
his bride were sitting alone by the fire, when he suddenly discovered
that she was weeping. He asked the cause of her tears and was told by
her that she had never loved him and never could, but had married him
solely to please her father. "I love Doctor Douglas," she added, "but I
will try my best and be a dutiful wife to you." "Miss," said Governor
Houston, even waiving the fact that he had just married her, "no white
woman shall be my slave; good-night." It is said that he mounted his
horse and rode to Nashville where he resigned at once his office as
Governor and departed for the Cherokee country, where and elsewhere his
subsequent career is well known. Having procured a divorce from his
wife, he married Margaret Moffette in the spring of 1840.

During the same winter I attended a party given by Mrs. Clement C. Hill,
as a "house-warming," at her residence on H Street. Many years later
George Bancroft, the historian, occupied this residence and it is still
called the "Bancroft house." Mr. Hill was a member of a prominent
Maryland family which owned large estates in Prince George County, and
his wife was recognized as one of the social leaders in Washington.

Another ball which I recall, which I attended in company with the
Scotts, was given by Colonel and Mrs. William G. Freeman at their
residence on F Street, near Thirteenth Street, the former of whom was at
one time Chief of Staff to General Scott. I well remember that General
Scott accompanied his daughter and me and that he wore at the time the
full-dress uniform of his high rank. As he measured six feet four in his
stocking-feet, the imposing nature of his appearance cannot well be
described. Mrs. Freeman, whose maiden name was Margaret Coleman, was one
of the joint owners of the Cornwall coal mines in Pennsylvania. Her
sister, Miss Sarah Coleman, shared her house for many years, and old
Washingtonians remember her as the "Lady Bountiful" whose whole life was
devoted to good works. Colonel and Mrs. Freeman's two daughters, Miss
Isabel Freeman and Mrs. Benjamin F. Buckingham, still reside in
Washington.

The first guest whom I recall at this ball was the sprightly Mary Louisa
Adams. She made her home with her grandfather, John Quincy Adams, who
lived in one of the two white houses on F Street, between Thirteenth
and Fourteenth Streets, now called the "Adams house." She was the
venerable ex-President's principal heir, and subsequently married her
relative, William Clarkson Johnson of Utica. George B. McClellan was
also a guest at this entertainment as one of the young beaux. His
presence made an indelible impression upon my memory as I was dancing a
cotillion with him when, to my nervous horror, the pictures in the
ballroom began to spin and I made myself conspicuous by nearly fainting.
I did not, however, lose consciousness like the heroines of the old
tragedies, and was conducted to a retired seat where, at the request of
General Scott, I was attended by Dr. Richard Henry Coolidge, Surgeon in
the Army, who was also a guest. General Scott's admiration for this
distinguished gentleman, personally as well as professionally, was very
great. I have often heard the General say that Dr. Coolidge not only
prescribed for the physical condition of his patients but also by the
example of his Christian character elevated their moral tone. He
concluded his eulogy with the words: "Dr. Coolidge walks humbly before
his God." His widow, Mrs. Harriet Morris Coolidge, daughter of Commodore
Charles Morris, U.S.N., one of the distinguished heroes of the War of
1812, is still living in Washington. I occasionally see her in her
pleasant home on L Street where she welcomes a large circle of friends,
giving one amid her pleasant surroundings a pleasing picture of a serene
old age.

During my many visits to the Scott household after the Mexican War, I
always occupied a comfortable brass camp bedstead which had formerly
belonged to the Mexican General, Santa Anna. It seems that just after
the battle of Cerro Gordo this warrior made a hasty flight, leaving
behind him his camp furniture and even, it is said, his wooden leg. This
bedstead was captured as a trophy of war, and finally came into General
Scott's possession. The memory of this man's brutal deeds, however,
never disturbed my midnight repose. Texas history tells the story of the
Alamo and of the six brave men there put to death by his orders,
suggesting in a certain degree the atrocities of the Duke of Cumberland
of which I have already spoken. Santa Anna, however, had Indian blood in
his veins--an extenuating circumstance that cannot be offered in defense
of the "Butcher of Culloden."

There was always more or less gossip afloat concerning the alleged
strained relations existing between General and Mrs. Scott, owing
largely to the fact that the conditions attending and surrounding their
respective lives were fundamentally different and often misunderstood.
General Scott was a born commander while _Madame la General_ from her
earliest life had had the world at her feet. Such a combination
naturally resulted in an occasional discordant note, which unfortunately
was usually sounded in public. Their private life, however, was serene,
and they were invariably loyal to each other's interests. When Mrs.
Scott, for example, learned that James Lyon of Richmond, an intimate
friend of the General and herself and a trustee for certain of her
property, had, although a Whig, voted against her husband when a
presidential candidate, she at once revoked his trusteeship. At another
time she wrote some attractive lines which she feelingly dedicated to
her husband.

I recall an amusing incident related by General Scott just after a
journey to Virginia that well illustrates the exigencies that awaited
persons traveling in those days in carriages. For a brief period before
the inauguration of President Harrison, General Scott was in Richmond,
and in due time, as he thought, started for the station to catch a train
for Washington to be present when the President-elect should take his
oath of office. He missed the train, however, and immediately secured a
carriage to convey him to Washington, as his presence there was
imperative; but after a hard day's journey the horses could go no
further, and he was obliged to seek shelter for the night. Stopping at a
house near the roadside and inquiring whether he could be accommodated,
he was told that there was but one vacant room and that it had been
engaged some days in advance by a German butcher, accompanied by his
wife and daughter. This party meanwhile arrived and upon being informed
of General Scott's predicament generously offered to share the room with
him. It was arranged that the women should occupy one of the beds and
General Scott and the butcher the other. The women, after retiring
early, gave the signal, "All right," when the men took possession of the
second bed. After some pretty fast traveling the next morning, General
Scott reached his destination. While he was relating this laughable
experience to us some years later, I inquired whether he had enjoyed a
comfortable rest. "No," was his emphatic response, "the butcher snored
the whole night." During this visit to Richmond, General Scott was
invited by an old friend to accompany her and her two sisters to a Roman
Catholic church to hear some fine music. Upon arriving at the door they
were met by the sexton, who, somewhat flurried by seeing General Scott,
announced in stentorian tones the advent of the strangers--"three cheers
(chairs) for the Protestant ladies."

[Illustration: BRIGADIER GENERAL WINFIELD SCOTT, U.S.A., BY INGHAM.

_The original portrait was burned many years ago_.]

While I am relating Scott anecdotes, I must not omit to speak of an
amusing experience the old General was fond of relating which occurred
while he was traveling in the West. In his official capacity he was a
sojourner for a short period in Cincinnati, and, upon leaving that now
prosperous city, he directed that P.P.C. cards be sent to all persons
who had called upon him. It seems that the social _convenances_ had not
yet dawned upon this city, now the abode of arts and sciences, as the
town wiseacre, learned in many things as well as social lore, was
called upon for an elucidation of the three mysterious letters.
Apparently he was not as able an exponent as was Daniel at Balshazzar's
feast, who so readily deciphered "the handwriting on the wall." He
construed the letters to signify _pour prendre cafe_, an invitation
which was gladly accepted, much to General Scott's astonishment, who
decided then and there to confine himself in future to plain English.

The charming old resident society predominated in those days in the
District of Columbia, and wealth was not a controlling influence in
social life. The condition of society was, therefore, different from
that of to-day, when apparently the

    ... strongest castle, tower or town,
    The golden bullet beateth down.

The old Washingtonians are now sometimes designated as "cave dwellers,"
and, generally speaking, the public bows to the golden calf. The term
"old Washingtonians," as now used, applies to residents descended from
the original settlers of Maryland and Virginia, as well as to
Presidential families and the representatives of Army and Navy officers
of earlier days. Their social code is, in some respects, entirely
different and distinct from that of any other city, and was formed many
decades ago by the ancestors of the "cave dwellers," who were so
peculiarly versed in the varied requirements and adornments of social
life that to-day no radical innovations are acceptable to their
descendants.

Speaking of the Army and Navy, I am reminded of an amusing anecdote
which has been generally circulated regarding the wife of a wealthy
manufacturer from a small western town who, after building a handsome
home in the heart of a fashionable section of the city, announced that
her visiting list was growing so large that she must in some way reduce
it and that she had decided to "draw it" on the Army and Navy. It seems
almost needless to say that this remark created much unfavorable
comment, as Washington is especially proud of the Army and Navy officers
she has nurtured.

Among the families who were socially prominent at the National Capital
when I first knew it, were the Seatons, Gales, Lees, Freemans, Carrolls,
Turnbulls, Hagners, Tayloes, Ramsays, Millers, Hills, Gouverneurs,
Maynadiers, Grahams, Woodhulls, Jesups, Watsons, Nicholsons,
Warringtons, Aberts, Worthingtons, Randolphs, Wilkes, Wainwrights, Roger
Jones, Pearsons, McBlairs, Farleys, Cutts, Walter Jones, Porters,
Emorys, Woodburys, Dickens, Pleasantons, McCauleys, and Mays.

I often recall with pleasure the days spent by me at Brentwood, a fine
old country seat near Washington, and picture to my mind those forms of
"life and light" arrayed in the charms of simplicity which were there
portrayed. The far West had not then poured its coffers into the
National Capital, and the mining element of California was then unknown.
It is true that Washington, with its unpaved streets and poorly lighted
thoroughfares, was then in a primitive condition, but it is just as true
that its social tone has never been surpassed. Brentwood was the
residence of Mrs. Joseph Pearson, who dispensed its hospitalities with
ease and elegance. For many years it was a social _El Dorado_, where
resident society and distinguished strangers were always welcome.
Although it was then remote from the heart of the city, most of its
numerous visitors were inclined to linger, once within its walls, to
enjoy the charmed circle which surrounded the Pearson family. Both the
daughters of this house, Eliza, who married Carlisle P. Patterson,
Superintendent of the U.S. Coast Survey, and Josephine, who became the
wife of Peter Augustus Jay of New York, were Washington beauties. Their
social arena, however, was not confined to this city, as they made
frequent visits to New York, where they were regarded as great belles.
Christine Kean, an old friend of mine who was a younger sister of Mrs.
Hamilton Fish, both of whom were daughters of Peter Philip James Kean of
New Jersey, was intimate with the "Pearson girls," and made frequent
visits to Brentwood, where she shared in their social reign. Christine
Kean married William Preston Griffin, a naval officer from Virginia, who
survived their marriage for only a few years. I was accustomed to call
her "sunshine" as she carried joy and gladness to every threshold she
crossed. She was superintendent of nurses in the sanitary corps during
the Civil War, and as such rendered conspicuous service in the State of
Virginia. She still resides in New York, admired and beloved by a large
circle of friends, and those charming traits of character which have
always made her so universally beloved are now hallowing the declining
years of her life.

I often met Joseph C. G. Kennedy at General Scott's, usually called
"Census" Kennedy. One day we were shocked to learn that Solon Borland,
U.S. Senator from Arkansas, standing high in political circles but
called by General Scott "a western ruffian," had assaulted Mr. Kennedy
and broken his nose. I knew both Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy in after life. He
was a gentleman of the old school, beloved and respected by everyone.
His death in 1887 was a shocking tragedy. A lunatic with a fancied
grievance met him on the corner of Pennsylvania Avenue and Fifteenth
Street, and stabbed him. Mr. Kennedy was a grandson of Andrew Ellicott,
who, his descendants claim, conceived the original plans of the city of
Washington instead of Pierre Charles l'Enfant, to whom they are
generally attributed.

While visiting in Washington I had the pleasure of renewing my
acquaintance with Isaac Hull Adams of the Coast Survey. He was a
bachelor, and his sister, Miss Elizabeth Combs Adams, always lived with
him. They were children of Judge Thomas Boylston Adams, a son of
President John Adams, and resided in the old Adams homestead in Quincy,
Massachusetts. I had originally known both of them in earlier life in
New York, and it was a sincere pleasure to meet them again. Miss Adams
was a generous and broad-minded woman who inherited the intellectuality
of her ancestors. Her reminiscences of the White House during the Monroe
administration, when her uncle, John Quincy Adams, was Secretary of
State, were of the deepest interest. She also loved to dwell upon the
days of the administration which followed, when she was a constant
visitor at the White House as the guest of her uncle, the President. I
called upon her a few years ago in Quincy, while I was visiting in
Boston, and found her living quietly in the old home, surrounded by her
many household gods. She died soon after I saw her, but the memory of
her friendship is enduring.

Before making my visit to Quincy I wrote to Miss Adams asking her
whether she was equal to seeing me. She was then nearly ninety-two years
old, having been born on the 9th of February, 1808. In a few days I
received the following letter from her own pen:

    21 ELM STREET, QUINCY, MASS., November 16, 1899.

    My dear Mrs. Gouverneur:

    I was very glad to receive your note saying that you would
    come to see us in a few days. I am a very poor writer, not
    holding the old pen of the "ready writer," and my brother
    Isaac Hull is a great invalid and not able to get about, so
    lame.

    I began two or three notes to you but my fingers are so stiff
    I do not hold the pen, but wish to tell you that we shall be
    glad to see you. We are both tired of being invalids. We do
    not forget good old times far back in the century. The steam
    cars leave Boston at the South Station. I think I sent you a
    letter yesterday, but if you fail to get it, I shall be very
    sorry.

    I have so many letters to write and can but just keep the pen
    going. It is a lovely day, but I never go out now and Isaac
    Hull is suffering all sorts of pains. Comes down when he can.
    Sorry to send such a poor sample. I have not been at Jamaica
    Plain for two years.

    We live in the oldest house and are the oldest couple in "all
    Connecticut," as Hull used to sing.

         Very truly yours,

              E. C. ADAMS.

    As I say, the very oldest and the head of five generations. I
    am so forgetful.

"Hull" Adams, as he was generally called, had a fine tenor voice and I
have frequently heard him sing in duet with Archibald Campbell, who sang
bass. Adams and Campbell were lifelong friends and were fellow students
at West Point. The latter was graduated from West Point in 1835 and
resigned from the Army in 1838. He subsequently became a civil engineer
and was a Commissioner to establish the boundaries between the United
States and Canada. His wife was Miss Mary Williamson Harod of New
Orleans, and a niece of Judge Thomas B. Adams. Her father, Charles
Harod, who was president of the Atchafalaya Bank of New Orleans, was an
aide-de-camp to General Jackson at the battle of New Orleans and, with
Commodore Daniel T. Patterson in command of our naval forces, met and
arranged with the pirate Jean Lafitte to bring in his men to fight on
the American side. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell were lifelong residents of the
District, where she is especially remembered for her many pleasing
traits. Their son, Charles H. Campbell, still resides in Washington and
married a daughter of the late Admiral David D. Porter, U.S.N. For many
years, the Archibald Campbells lived on H Street in a house which is now
a portion of The Milton.

I remember when Commander Matthew F. Maury, U.S.N., the distinguished
author of "The Geography of the Sea," was stationed in the old Naval
Observatory and preparing those charts of the ocean which so gladdened
the hearts of mariners, quite unconscious meanwhile of the sensational
career which awaited him. He and Mrs. Maury resided in Washington and,
aided by their daughters, dispensed a lavish hospitality. A few years
later, however, when Virginia seceded from the Union, Maury resigned
from the Navy and linked his destiny with his native State. I learned
much of his subsequent career from General John Bankhead Magruder, a
distant relative of my husband, who also resigned from the service and
espoused the Southern cause. At the time of General Lee's surrender,
Maury was in England and the following May sailed for St. Thomas, where
he heard of Lincoln's assassination. He then went to Havana, whence he
sent his son to Virginia, and took passage for Mexico. He had approved
of the efforts of the Archduke Maximilian to establish his empire in
America and had already written him a letter expressive of his sympathy.
Without waiting, however, for a reply he followed his letter, and upon
his arrival in Mexico in June was warmly welcomed by Maximilian, by whom
he was asked to accept a place in his Ministry; but the flattering offer
was declined and in its place he received an appointment as Director of
the Imperial Observatory. It seems superfluous to add what everyone
knows, or ought to know, that Maury was a Christian gentleman of rare
accomplishments and one of the most proficient scientists of his day.

General Magruder was with Maury when they learned of Lincoln's
assassination, and accompanied him to Mexico, where he served as Major
General in Maximilian's army until the downfall of the usurping Emperor.
In referring to his experiences in Mexico he dwelt with much emphasis
upon the Empress Carlota and her interesting personality. He described
her as especially kind and sympathetic and as treating Maury and himself
with distinguished consideration at her court. This pleasing
experience, however, was not of long duration. A cloud hung over the
Mexican throne and it became apparent that Maximilian's reign was
drawing to a close. Realizing this state of affairs, Magruder and Maury
left Mexico, the former returning to the United States while the latter
sailed for Europe. The Empress Carlota returned to Austria, leaving
Maximilian to fight alone a hopeless cause. Louis Napoleon's vision of
an European Empire on American soil soon vanished, and Maximilian's
tragic death and Carlota's subsequent derangement caused a throb of
sympathy which was felt throughout the civilized world.

During the Mexican War, General Magruder, though a good officer and one
of the bravest and most chivalrous of men, never lost sight of his
position in the _beau monde_. He never went into battle, however
pressing the emergency, without first brushing his hair well, smoothing
his mustache and arranging his toggery after the latest and most
approved style. Often during the rage of the battle, while the shot were
raining around him like hail and his men and horses and guns were
exposed to a destructive and merciless fire, he would stand up with his
tall, straight figure in full view of the Mexicans and, assuming the
most impressive and fashionable attitudes, would eye the enemy through
his glass with all the coolness and grace suited to a glance through an
opera glass at a beautiful woman in an opposite box. I have always heard
that he could not be provoked by any circumstances to commit an impolite
or an ungenteel act. But he came very near forfeiting his reputation in
this respect at the battle of Contreras. Upon being ordered to take a
certain position with his battery, he found himself exposed to a
terrible fire from the enemy's big guns. In the midst of this hot fire,
an aide of one of the generals, from whom Magruder had not received his
order to occupy this position, rode up to the gallant officer and told
him that he had orders for him from General ----. "But, my dear fellow,"
interrupted the polite Captain, "you must dismount and take a glass of
wine with me; do--I have some excellent old Madeira." The aide
dismounted and the wine was hastily drunk by the impatient young
Lieutenant, who did not enjoy it very much as there was a constant fire
of grape and canister rattling about them all the time. But Captain
Magruder desired very much to have a little agreeable chat over his
wine, as, he remarked, it was no use popping away with his diminutive
pieces against the heavy guns of the enemy. "But I am ordered by General
---- to direct you to fall back, abandon your position, and shelter your
pieces," was the impatient response. "My dear fellow," replied the
Captain, "do take another sip of that wine--it is delicious!" "But you
are ordered by General ---- to retire, Captain; and you are being cut
up." "Much obliged to you, my dear friend, but if you will only make
yourself comfortable for a few minutes, I will get some sardines and
crackers." "I must go," impatiently remarked the Lieutenant, mounting
his horse; "what shall I report to the General?" "Well, my dear fellow,
if you are determined to go, please present my compliments to General
---- and tell him that, owing to a previous engagement with General
----, I am under the necessity of informing him that before I leave this
spot I will see him in the neighborhood of a certain gentleman whose
name is not to be mentioned in polite society." So, at all events, goes
the story, and I presume we may believe as much or as little of it as we
please.

General Magruder, while our guest in our country home near Frederick, in
Maryland, related to me many interesting incidents connected with
Maury's career. The General seemed to possess an unusual appreciation of
the good things of life and told me with much gusto about the numerous
delicacies with which Mexico abounded. His descriptions served to
recall to my mind the fact that when he was in our regular army he had
the reputation of "faring sumptuously every day." When in command at
Newport, Rhode Island, he gave a ball, during which he employed the
services of some of the soldiers under his command for domestic
purposes, and for this act was reprimanded by the War Department. After
the Civil War he went to Texas and died in Houston in the winter of
1871. He was a brave soldier and was twice brevetted for gallantry and
meritorious conduct on the battlefields of the Mexican War.

General John B. Magruder and his brother, Captain George A. Magruder of
the Navy, who early in life became orphans, were brought up by their
maternal uncle, General James Bankhead, U.S.A. General "Jack" Magruder,
as he was usually called, developed rather lively traits of character,
while his younger brother George was so deeply religious that, during
his naval career, his nickname was "St. George of the Navy." When both
young men had reached manhood, General Bankhead read them a homily,
having special reference, however, to his nephew "Jack." "I have reared
you both with the utmost care and circumspection," he said, "but you,
John, have not my approval in many ways." Jack's response was
characteristic. "Uncle," he said, "I can account for it in the following
manner--George has followed your precepts, but I have followed your
example." At the outbreak of the Civil War, Captain Magruder resigned
from the Navy and went with his family to Canada, where his daughter
Helen married James York MacGregor Scarlett, whose title of nobility was
Lord Abinger, his father having been raised to the peerage as a "lower
Lord."

Another Virginia family of social prominence, whose members mingled much
in Washington society while I was still visiting the Winfield Scotts,
was that of the Masons of "Colross," the name of their old homestead
near Alexandria in Virginia. Mrs. Thomson F. Mason was usually called
Mrs. "Colross" Mason to distinguish her from another family by the same
name, that of James M. Mason, United States Senator from Virginia. The
family thought nothing of the drive to Washington, and no entertainment
was quite complete without the "Mason girls," who were especially bright
and attractive young women. Open house was kept at this delightful
country seat and many were the pleasant parties given there. One of the
daughters, Matilda, married Charles H. Rhett, a representative South
Carolinian, and my friend, Cornelia Scott, was one of her bridesmaids.
Florence, another sister, who was generally called "Folly," married
Captain Thomas G. Rhett of the Army, a brother of her sister's husband.
He resigned at the beginning of the Civil War, as a South Carolinian
would indeed have been a _rara avis_ in the Federal Army in 1861, and
became an officer in the Confederate Army; while from 1870 to 1873 he
was a Colonel of Ordnance in the Army of the Khedive. Miss Betty Mason,
the oldest of these sisters, was a celebrated beauty and became the wife
of St. George Tucker Campbell of Philadelphia.

It was about this time I first made the acquaintance of Emily Virginia
Mason, who recently died in Georgetown after a long and active life. We
were accustomed to have long conversations over the tea table concerning
bygone days, and I sadly miss her bright presence. Her memories of a
varied life both in Washington and Paris were highly entertaining and as
one of her auditors I never grew weary while listening to her graphic
descriptions of persons and things. She was a daughter of John T. Mason
and a sister of Stevens Thompson Mason, the first governor of Michigan,
often called the "Boy Governor." She was very active during the Civil
War as a Confederate nurse and continued her kindly acts thereafter in
other fields of benevolence. She wrote a life of General Robert E. Lee
and several other books, and made a compilation of "Southern Poems of
the War," which was subsequently published under that title.

One may readily turn from Emily Virginia Mason to her life-long friend,
the daughter of Senator William Wright of New Jersey. It was during her
father's official life in Washington that Miss Katharine Maria Wright
met and married Baron Johan Cornelis Gevers, _Charge d'affaires_ from
Holland to the United States. After her marriage she seldom visited her
native country but made her home in Holland until her death a few years
ago. Her son also entered the diplomatic service of his country and a
few years ago was living in Washington.

After my father's death we continued as a family to live in our Houston
Street home in New York, but in 1853 we found the character of the
neighborhood, which had been so pleasant in years gone by, changing so
rapidly that we sold our house and moved to Washington. We secured a
pleasant old-fashioned residence on G Street, between Seventeenth and
Eighteenth Streets, which in subsequent years became the Weather Bureau.
Next door to us lived Mrs. Graham and her daughter, Mrs. Henry K.
Davenport, the grandmother and mother respectively of Commodore Richard
G. Davenport, U.S.N. Mrs. Graham was the widow of George Graham, who,
for a time during Monroe's administration, acted as Secretary of War.
While he was serving in this capacity, his brother, John Graham, was a
member of the same cabinet, serving as Secretary of State. Mrs.
Davenport was the mother of a family of sons known familiarly to the
neighborhood as Tom, Dick and Harry. In the same block lived Mr.
Jefferson Davis, who was then in the Senate from Mississippi. I remember
hearing Mrs. Davis say that it was worth paying additional rent to live
near Mrs. Graham, as she had such an attractive personality and was such
a kind and attentive neighbor. A few doors the other side of us resided
Captain and Mrs. Henry C. Wayne, the former of whom was in the Army and
was the son of James M. Wayne of Georgia, a Justice of the Supreme
Court; while across the street was the French Legation. Next door, at
the corner of G and Eighteenth Streets, lived Edward Everett. Mr. and
Mrs. Robert D. Wainwright lived on the next block in a house now
occupied by General and Mrs. A. W. Greely. I attended the wedding of
Miss Henrietta Wainwright, soon after we arrived in Washington, to
William F. Syng of the British Legation. She was the aunt of
Rear-Admiral Richard Wainwright, U.S.N., who, as Commanding Officer of
the _Gloucester_, rendered such conspicuous service at the battle of
Santiago. Not far away, on the corner of Twenty-first and G Streets,
lived Lieutenant Maxwell Woodhull of the Navy and his wife; and their
children still reside in the same house. On F Street, near Twenty-first
Street, was the home of Colonel William Turnbull, U.S.A., whose wife was
a sister of General George Douglas Ramsay, U.S.A., who was so well known
to all old Washingtonians. General Ramsay was very social in his tastes,
and many years before this time he and Columbus Monroe were the
groomsmen at the wedding at the White House when John Adams, the son of
John Quincy Adams, married his first cousin, Miss Mary Hellen. General
and Mrs. Ramsay lived on Twenty-first Street, not far from his sister,
Mrs. William Turnbull. Mrs. John Farley (Anna Pearson), a half-sister of
Mrs. Carlisle P. Patterson, lived on F Street, near Twenty-first Street,
and the latter's sister, Mrs. Peter Augustus Jay (Josephine Pearson),
began her matrimonial life on the northwest corner of F and Twenty-first
Streets.

William Thomas Carroll's residence on the corner of Eighteenth and F
Streets witnessed a continuous scene of hospitality. Mrs. Carroll was
never happier than when entertaining. She lived to an advanced age, and
until almost the very last, remained standing while receiving her
guests. I have heard that she retained two sets of servants, one for the
daytime and the other for the night. In her drawing-room hung many
portraits of family ancestors arrayed in the antique dress of olden
times. She was a daughter of Governor Samuel Sprigg of Maryland and was
a handsome and accomplished woman. Her four daughters, who materially
assisted her in dispensing hospitality, were very popular young women.
Violetta Lansdale, the oldest, married Dr. William Swann Mercer of the
well-known Virginia family; Sally is the present Countess Esterhazy;
Carrie married the late T. Dix Bolles of the Navy; and Alida is the wife
of the late John Marshall Brown of Portland, Maine. The Carroll house is
still standing and became the residence of the late Chief Justice
Melville Fuller of the U.S. Supreme Court. I have always heard that the
Carroll house, a substantial structure with large rooms, was built by
Tench Ringgold, who was U.S. Marshal of the District of Columbia longer
than any of his predecessors. He occupied this position during the whole
of President Monroe's administration, and I have heard it related in the
Gouverneur family that, when Monroe was retiring from office, he asked
his successor, John Quincy Adams, on personal grounds, to retain Mr.
Ringgold. This request was granted and Mr. Monroe made the same appeal
to Andrew Jackson shortly after the latter's inauguration, and received
the cordial response, "Don't mention it, don't mention it." On the
strength of this interview, Ringgold naturally assumed he was safe for
another term, but, to the surprise of many, he was succeeded two years
later by Henry Ashton, who retained the office for about three years.
"Old Hickory," as everybody knows, had a mind of his own.

It was often very pleasant in my new surroundings to welcome to
Washington some of my early New York friends; and among these none were
more gladly received than Frances and Julia Kellogg of Troy. My
intimacy with these sisters goes back as far as my school days at Madame
Chegaray's, where Frances Kellogg was a boarding pupil and in a class
higher than mine when I was a day-scholar. It was the habit of these
sisters to spend their winters in Washington and their summers at West
Point; and it was during their sojourn at the latter place that Frances
became engaged to George H. Thomas of the Army who, although a Virginian
by birth, rendered such distinguished services during our Civil War as
Commander of the Army of the Cumberland. Many years after General
Thomas's death, his widow built a house on I Street, where she and Miss
Kellogg presided during the remainder of their lives. During one of our
many conversations, Mrs. Thomas told me that when her husband was
informed that a house was about to be presented to him by admiring
friends, in recognition of his conspicuous services during the Civil
War, he at once declined the offer, saying that he had been sufficiently
remunerated, and requested that the money raised for the purpose should
be given in charity. A distinguished Union General, who had already
accepted a house, remonstrated with him and said: "Thomas, if you refuse
to accept that house it will make it awkward for us." General Thomas's
characteristic response was: "You may take as many houses as you please,
but I shall accept none."

At this time the house 14 Lafayette Square, now Jackson Place, still
standing but very much altered, was owned and occupied by Purser and
Mrs. Francis B. Stockton and the latter's sister, daughters of Captain
James McKnight of the Marine Corps and nieces of Commodore Stephen
Decatur. Purser Stockton once told me that he had purchased this home
for seven thousand dollars. The house prior to his ownership had been
the residence of a number of families of distinction, among others the
Southards and Monroes.

After giving up our home in New York I made a visit of some weeks to my
friends, the family of William Kemble, who was still residing on St.
John's Park in New York. While there we were invited to an old-fashioned
supper at the home of Mr. Peter Goelet, a bachelor, on the corner of
Nineteenth Street and Broadway, presided over by his sister, Mrs. Hannah
Greene Gerry. Upon the lawn of this house Mr. Goelet indulged his
ornithological tastes by a remarkable display of various species of
turkeys with their broods, together with peacocks and silver and golden
pheasants. As can be readily understood, this was a remarkable sight in
the heart of a great city, and caused much admiration from passers-by.

It has been said that at one time William W. Corcoran's father kept a
shoe store in Georgetown, and that the son, one of the most conspicuous
benefactors of the city of Washington, was very proud of the fact. I
have also heard it said, although I cannot vouch for the truth of the
statement, that the son cherished his father's business sign as one of
his valued possessions. Whether or not these allegations agree or
conflict with the explicit statement concerning his father made by
William W. Corcoran himself, is left for others to judge. The latter
wrote concerning his father: "Thomas Corcoran came to Baltimore in 1783,
and entered into the service of his uncle, William Wilson, as clerk,
beginning with a salary of fifty pounds sterling a year.... He brought
his family to Georgetown and commenced the shoe and leather business on
Congress Street," etc., etc. Be the facts as they may, a witticism of
William Thomas Carroll was a _bon mot_ of the day many years ago in
Washington. Upon being asked upon one occasion whether he knew the elder
Mr. Corcoran, he replied: "I have known him from first to _last_ and
from _last_ to first." Mr. Carroll for thirty-six years was Clerk of the
Supreme Court of the United States, and Chief Justice Roger B. Taney
paid him a well-earned tribute when he stated that he was "an
accomplished and faithful officer, prompt and exact in business, and
courteous in manner, and during the whole period of his judicial life
discharged the duties of his office with justice to the public and the
suitors, and to the entire satisfaction of every member of the Court."

At the period of which I am speaking, some of the clerical positions in
the various departments of the government were filled by members of
families socially prominent. Francis S. Markoe and Robert S. Chew, for
example, were clerks in the State Department, and Archibald Campbell and
James Madison Cutts held similar positions. For many years women were
not employed by the government. It is said that the first one regularly
appointed was Miss Jennie Douglas, and that she received her position
through the instrumentality of Salmon P. Chase, Secretary of the
Treasury, at the request of General Francis E. Spinner, Treasurer of the
United States. She was assigned to the duty of cutting and trimming
treasury-notes, a task that had hitherto been performed with shears by
men. General Spinner subsequently stated that her first day's work
"settled the matter in her and in women's favor." James Madison Cutts,
at one time Second Comptroller of the Treasury under Buchanan, married
Ellen Elisabeth O'Neill, who, with her sister Rose, subsequently Mrs.
Robert Greenhow, resided in the vicinity of Washington. Both sisters
possessed much physical beauty. Madison Cutts, as he was generally
called, was a nephew of "Dolly" Madison, and his father, Richard Cutts,
was once a Member of Congress from New Hampshire.

It is to the kindness of Mrs. Madison Cutts that I owe the memory of a
pleasant visit to Mrs. Madison. She took me to call upon her one
afternoon, and I shall never forget the impression made upon me by her
turban and long earrings. Her surroundings were of a most interesting
character and her graceful bearing and sprightly presence, even in
extreme old age, have left a lasting picture upon my memory. Her niece,
"Dolly" Paine, was living with her at her residence on the corner of H
Street and Madison Place, now forming a part of the Cosmos Club. Todd
Paine, her son, unfortunately did not prove to be a source of much
satisfaction to her. He survived his mother some years and eventually
the valuable Madison manuscripts and relics became his property. At the
time of his death in Virginia this interesting collection was brought to
Washington, where, I am informed, some of it still remains as the
cherished possession of the McGuire family. Mr. and Mrs. Madison Cutts
were devotees of society and consequently they and Mrs. Madison met upon
common ground. The afternoon of my memorable visit to this former
mistress of the White House I remember meeting quite a number of
visitors in her drawing-room, as temporary sojourners at the National
Capital were often eager to meet the gracious woman who had figured so
conspicuously in the social history of the country.

I knew Madison Cutts's daughter, Rose Adele Cutts, or "Addie" Cutts, as
she was invariably called, when she first entered society. Her
reputation for beauty is well known. I always associate her with
japonicas, which she usually wore in her hair and of which her numerous
bouquets were chiefly composed. Her father frequently accompanied her to
balls, and in the wee small hours of the night, as he became weary, I
have often been amused at his summons to depart--"Addie, _allons_." As
quite a young woman, Addie Cutts married Stephen A. Douglas, the "Little
Giant," whom Lincoln defeated in the memorable presidential election of
1860. It is said that her ambition to grace the White House had much to
do with the disruption of the Democratic party, as it was she who urged
Douglas onward; and everyone knows that the division of the Democratic
vote between Stephen A. Douglas and John C. Breckenridge resulted in the
election of Lincoln. Some years after Douglas's death, his widow married
General Robert Williams, U.S.A., by whom she had a number of children,
one of whom is the wife of Lieutenant Commander John B. Patton, U.S.N.

Mrs. Madison Cutts's sister, Mrs. Robert Greenhow, was a woman of
attractive appearance and unusual ability. Her husband was a Virginian
by birth and a man of decided literary tastes. When I first knew her she
was a widow, and but few romances can excel in interest one period of
her career. She was a social favorite and her house was the rendezvous
of the prominent Southern politicians of the day. This, of course, was
before the Civil War, during a portion of which she made herself
conspicuous as a Southern spy. At the commencement of the struggle her
zeal for the Southern cause became so conspicuous and offensive to the
authorities in Washington that she was arrested and imprisoned in her
own house on Sixteenth Street, near K Street. Later she was confined in
the "Old Capitol Prison." General Andrew Porter, U.S.A., whose widow
still resides in Washington and is one of my cherished friends, was
Provost Marshal of the District of Columbia at this time, and as such
Mrs. Greenhow was in his charge during her imprisonment. This duty was
made so irksome to him that, upon one occasion, he exclaimed in
desperation that he preferred to resign his position rather than to
continue such an uncongenial task. It has been stated that information
conveyed by her to the Confederates precipitated the Battle of Bull Run,
which was so disastrous to the Union Army. Her conduct, even in prison,
was so aggressive that the government officials decided she was
altogether too dangerous a character to remain in Washington. They
accordingly sent her, accompanied by her young daughter Rose, within the
Southern lines, fearing that even behind prison bars her ingenuity
might devise some method of communicating with the enemy. From the South
she went to London, where she published, in 1863, a volume entitled, "My
Imprisonment and the First Years of Abolition Rule at Washington," to
which I have already referred. I have heard that this book had quite a
circulation in Great Britain, but that an attempt was made to suppress
it in the United States. The last year of the war, Mrs. Greenhow was
returning to America with considerable money acquired by the sale of her
book, which she carried with her in gold. She took passage upon a
blockade-runner which, after pursuit, succeeded in reaching the port of
Wilmington, North Carolina. She was descending from her ship into a
small boat to go on shore when she made a false step and fell into the
water. Her gold tied around her neck held her down and she was drowned.
Her remains were recovered and brought to the town hall, where they laid
in state prior to an imposing funeral service. She was regarded
throughout the South as a martyr to its cause.

Old Washingtonians who recall Mrs. Greenhow's eventful career will
associate with her, in a way, Mrs. Philip Phillips, who was also active
in the Southern cause, and whose husband represented Alabama with much
ability for one term in Congress. He subsequently remained in
Washington, where he was known as a distinguished advocate before the
Supreme Court. Mrs. Phillips's enthusiastic friendship for the South
made serious trouble for herself and family. The first year of the war,
all of them were sent across the Union lines, and went to New Orleans,
where General Benjamin F. Butler was in command. A few days after her
arrival she Was brought before him charged with "making merry" over the
passing funeral of Captain George Coleman De Kay of New York, an officer
in the Union Army. When General Butler inquired why she laughed, she
replied: "Because I was in a good humor." Unable longer to suppress his
indignation, Butler exclaimed: "If such women as you and Mrs. Greenhow
are let loose, our lives are in jeopardy." Mrs. Phillips's reply was:
"We of the South hire butchers to kill our swine." Another day a search
was made in Mrs. Phillips's house for information concerning the
Confederacy which she was thought to have. When personally searched and
compelled to remove her shoes, she suggested that it was impossible for
a Northern man to get his hand inside a Southern woman's shoe. General
Butler finally ordered Mrs. Phillips to be confined on an island near
New Orleans, and placed over her a guard whose duty it was to watch her
night and day. I have often heard her give an account of her life under
these trying circumstances. She said she lived in a large "shoe
box"--whatever that meant--and that her meals were served to her three
times a day upon a tin plate. From what I have already said, it is
apparent that she was an exceedingly witty woman. One day, while walking
on the streets in Washington, she was joined by a distinguished prelate
of the Roman Catholic Church, and inquired whether he could lay aside
his cloth long enough to listen to a conundrum? Upon receiving a
favorable response, she asked: "Why is His Holiness, the Pope, like a
goose?" The reply was: "Because he sticks to his Propaganda!"

I shall always recall with pleasure a dinner party I attended at the
residence of Edward Everett. As Mrs. Everett was in very delicate health
and seldom appeared in public, Mr. Everett presided alone. The
invitations were for six o'clock, and dinner was served promptly at that
hour. I was taken into the dining-room by Mr. Philip Griffith, one of
the Secretaries of the British Legation. We had just finished our second
course when, to the surprise of everyone, a tall and gaunt gentleman was
ushered into the dining-room. It was Alexander H. Stephens of Georgia,
then a member of Congress and subsequently Vice-President of the
Southern Confederacy. Mr. Everett at once arose and shook hands with Mr.
Stephens and with an imperturbable expression of countenance motioned
the butler to provide another seat at the table. For a moment there was
a slight confusion, as the other guests were obliged to move in order to
make room for the new comer; but everything was speedily arranged and
Mr. Stephens began his dinner with the third course. No explanation was
offered at the moment, but later, while we were drinking our coffee in
the drawing-room, I noticed Mr. Everett and Mr. Stephens engaged in
conversation.

A few days later, through Mr. Colin M. Ingersoll, a Representative in
Congress from Connecticut, the cause of Mr. Stephens' late appearance at
the dinner was made clear to me. It seems that Mr. Everett and the
French Minister, the Count Eugene de Sartiges, his next door neighbor,
were giving dinner parties the same evening. The dinner hour at the
French Legation was half-past six o'clock, while Mr. Everett's was half
an hour earlier. Through the mistake of a stupid coachman, Mr. Stephens
was landed at the door of Count de Sartiges's home and entered it under
the impression that it was Mr. Everett's residence. He walked into the
drawing-room and suspected nothing, as nearly all the guests were
familiar to him. Count de Sartiges, however, surprised at the presence
of an unbidden guest, anxiously inquired of Mr. Ingersoll the name of
the stranger, and upon being informed remarked: "I'll be very polite to
him." Seating himself by Mr. Stephens' side, an animated conversation
followed. Meanwhile other guests arrived and the Count de Sartiges
became diverted, while Mr. Stephens, still unconscious of his mistake,
turned to Mr. Ingersoll, who stood near, and in an irritated tone of
voice said: "Who is this Frenchman who is tormenting me, and where is
Mr. Everett?" Mr. Ingersoll explained that the Frenchman was the Count
de Sartiges, and that Mr. Everett was probably presiding over his own
dinner in the adjoining house.

My _vis a vis_ at Mr. Everett's table was Miss Ann G. Wight, a woman
with an unusual history. She was born in Montgomery County, Maryland,
and as a child was placed in a convent. She eventually became a nun and
an inmate of the Convent of the Visitation in Georgetown, where she
assumed the name of "Sister Gertrude." She was an intellectual woman and
was deeply beloved by her associates. Without any apparent cause,
however, she planned an escape from the convent and sought the residence
of her relative, General John P. Van Ness, dropping her keys, as I have
understood, in Rock Creek as she passed over the Georgetown bridge. Mrs.
Charles Worthington, a Catholic friend of mine who was educated at this
same convent, gave me the following explanation of her conduct: There
was an election for Mother Superior, and Miss Wight, deeply disappointed
that she was not chosen to fill the position, was dissatisfied and when
it became her turn to answer the front-door bell, suddenly determined to
leave. She was, however, recognized by one of the priests, who followed
her to General Van Ness's residence, where he insisted upon seeing her.
At first she refused to meet him, but, upon informing the General that
he must learn from her own lips whether her departure was voluntary, she
consented to see him in the presence of her relative. She admitted that
she had in no way been influenced. When I first met Miss Wight she was
more devoted to "the pride, pomp and circumstance" of the world than
many who had not led such deeply religious lives. She was still living
at the residence of General Van Ness, and I have heard that she always
remained a Roman Catholic. During the Everett dinner my escort, Mr.
Philip Griffith, remarked to me in an undertone: "We have an escaped nun
here; are we going to have an _auto da fe_?" I responded that I believed
it to be a matter of record that _autos da fe_ were solely a courtly
amusement.

Mrs. Sidney Brooks, formerly Miss Fanny Dehon of Boston, was another of
Mr. Everett's guests. She was a relative of our host, and it was her
custom to make prolonged visits to the Everett home. Her presence in
Washington was always hailed with delight. She was a pronounced blonde,
and her reputation as a brilliant conversationalist was widely extended.

Rufus Choate was an occasional visitor in Washington subsequent to his
brilliant senatorial career which ended in 1845. That I had the pleasure
of intimately knowing this man of wit and erudition is one of the
brightest memories of my life. His quaint humor was inexhaustible and
some of his bright utterances will never perish. When a younger sister
of mine was lying desperately ill in Washington in 1856 he called to
inquire about her condition, and the tones of his sympathetic voice
still linger in my ear. It has been fittingly said of Mr. Choate that
even one's name uttered by him was in itself a delicate compliment. It
is to him we owe the inspiring quotation, "Keep step to the music of the
Union," which he uttered in his speech before the Whig convention of
1855. I have heard some of Mr. Choate's clients dwell upon his mighty
power as an advocate, and it seems to me that words of law flowing from
such lips might have been suggestive of the harmony of the universe. The
chirography of Mr. Choate was equal to any Chinese puzzle; it was even
more difficult to decipher than that of Horace Greeley. I once received
a note from him and was obliged to call upon my family to aid me in
reading it. He had a fund of humor which was universally applauded by an
admiring public. Once, in replying to a toast on Yale College at the
"Hasty-Pudding" dinner, he said that "everything is to be irregular this
evening." He followed this remark by poking a little fun at the expense
of the College by reading a portion of the will of Lewis Morris, one of
the Signers and the father of Gouverneur Morris. This document was
executed in 1760 in New York, and in it he expresses his "desire that my
son, Gouverneur Morris, may have the best education that is to be had in
Europe or America, but my express will and directions are that he be
never sent for that purpose to the Colony of Connecticutt, lest he
should imbibe in his youth that low craft and cunning so incident to the
People of that Colony, which is so interwoven in their Constitutions
that all their art cannot disguise it from the World; though many of
them, under the sanctifyed garb of Religion, have endeavored to impose
themselves on the World for honest men." The laughter which followed the
reading of this extract was as _regular_ as the remarks were
_irregular_. It may be added that Lewis Morris died two years after
making this will, when his son Gouverneur was between ten and eleven
years of age, and that his desires were respected, as his son was
graduated from King's (now Columbia) College in New York in 1768, when
only sixteen years old. His father, cold in the grave, had his revenge
on the "Colony of Connecticutt" and the hatchet, for aught we know to
the contrary, was forever buried, while old Elihu's college still
survives in New Haven.

An anecdote relating to Gouverneur Morris still lingers in my memory.
Before his marriage, quite late in life, to Miss Anne Cary Randolph, his
nephew, Gouverneur Wilkins, was generally regarded as heir to his large
estate. When a direct heir was born, Mr. Wilkins was summoned to the
babe's christening. One of the guests began to speculate upon the name
of the youngster, when Mr. Wilkins quickly said, "Why, _Cut-us-off-sky_,
of course," in imitation of the usual termination of such a large number
of Russian names.

In 1852 John F. T. Crampton was British Minister to the United States
and I had the pleasure of knowing him quite well. He was a bachelor of
commanding presence, and it was rather a surprise to Washingtonians that
he evaded matrimonial capture! He lived in Georgetown in an old-time and
spacious mansion, surrounded by ample grounds. The proverbial
tea-drinking period had not arrived, but Mr. Crampton, notwithstanding
this fact, gave afternoon receptions for which his house, by the way,
was especially adapted. In 1856, during the Crimean War, an
unpleasantness arose between Great Britain and this country in
connection with the charge that Crampton had been instrumental in
recruiting soldiers in the United States for service in the British
Army. Accordingly, in May of the same year, President Pierce broke off
diplomatic relations with him and he was recalled. There was never,
however, any severe reflection made upon him by his home Ministry, and
after his return to England he was made a Knight of the Bath by Lord
Palmerston, and a little later became the British Minister at St.
Petersburg. In the autumn of 1856, while in Russia, he married Victoire
Balfe, second daughter of Michael William Balfe, the distinguished
musical composer, from whom he was divorced in 1863.

I frequently attended receptions at the British Legation, and I
particularly recall those in the spring of the year when they took the
form of _fetes champetres_ upon the well-kept lawn. On these occasions
the Diplomatic Corps was well represented, as well as the resident
society. I have heard a curious story about Henry Stephen Fox, the
English Minister in Washington from 1836 to 1844. He evidently
represented the sporting element of his day, as it was said he was _en
evidence_ all night and seldom visible by daylight. He was, moreover,
exceedingly careless about some of the reasonable responsibilities of
life which rendered it difficult for his creditors to secure an
audience. They, however, surrounded his house in the First Ward one
evening and demanded in clamorous tones that he should name a definite
time when he would satisfy their claims. Fox appeared at a front window
and pleasantly announced that, as they were so urgent in their demands,
he would state a time which he hoped would meet with their satisfaction,
and accordingly named in stentorian voice the "Day of Judgment."

One of the constant visitors at our home on G Street was John
Savile-Lumley, who was appointed in 1854 as the Secretary of the British
Legation under Crampton, and in the following year became the English
_Charge d'affaires_ in Washington. I remember him as a fine looking
gentleman and an especially pleasing specimen of the English race. He
was the natural son of John Lumley-Savile, the eighth Earl of
Scarborough, by a mother of French origin. After leaving Washington, he
represented his country in Rome and other prominent courts of Europe,
and, upon his retirement from the diplomatic service in 1888, was raised
to the peerage as Baron Savile of Rufford in Nottinghamshire. The last I
heard of him was through one of Lord Ronald Gower's charming books of
travel, where it states that he was representing Great Britain at the
court of Leopold I. in Belgium. He died in the fall of 1896. His younger
brother lived in London where, for a period, he acted as a sort of
major-domo in society, and but few entertainments were considered
complete without him.




CHAPTER X

DIPLOMATIC CORPS AND OTHER CELEBRITIES


I have already spoken of the Count de Sartiges, who so ably represented
the French Government in the United States. He had not been very long in
this country when he married Miss Anna Thorndike of Boston, and while
residing in Washington they dispensed a lavish hospitality. Just before
he came to this country, the Count spent several years in Persia, which
was then regarded as an out-of-the-way post of duty. I recall quite an
amusing incident which occurred at an entertainment given by the
Countess de Sartiges to which I was accompanied by George Newell,
brother-in-law of William L. Marcy. Mr. Newell had not been in
Washington long enough to, become acquainted with all the members of the
Diplomatic Corps, and, crossing the room to where I stood, he inquired:
"Who is the Aborigine who has been sitting next to me?" I looked in the
direction indicated and recognized the well-known person of General Juan
Nepomuceno Almonte, the Mexican Minister, whose features strongly
portrayed the Indian type. Some matrimonial alliances in Mexico at this
time, by the way, were more or less complicated; for example, General
Almonte's wife was his own niece.

The first Secretary of the French Legation was Baron Geoffrey Boilleau,
who remained in this country for several years. While stationed in
Washington, he married Susan Benton, a daughter of Thomas H. Benton,
U.S. Senator from Missouri and a political autocrat in his own State,
another of whose daughters, Jessie Ann, was the wife of General John C.
Fremont. At a later day, both Boilleau and Fremont became involved in
difficulties of a serious character in consequence of which the former,
while Minister to Ecuador, was recalled to France, where, as I am
informed, he was convicted and confined for a period in the
_Conciergerie_. I am not fully acquainted with the exact details of the
charges upon which he was tried, but they had their origin in the
negotiation of certain bonds of the proposed Memphis and El Paso
Railroad. In my opinion, however, no one who knew Baron Boilleau well
ever doubted his integrity. He was a man of decidedly literary tastes
and, like many persons of that character, possessed but meager knowledge
of business. It seems that General Fremont had obtained from the
Legislature of Texas a grant of state lands in the interests of the
railroad just referred to, which was to be a portion of a projected
transcontinental line from Norfolk, Virginia, to San Diego and San
Francisco. It has been stated that "the French agents employed to place
the land-grant bonds of this road on the market made the false
declaration that they were guaranteed by the United States. In 1869 the
Senate passed a bill giving Fremont's road the right of way through the
territories, an attempt to defeat it by fixing on him the onus of the
misstatement in Paris having been unsuccessful. In 1873 he was
prosecuted by the French government for fraud in connection with this
misstatement. He did not appear in person, and was sentenced by default
to fine and imprisonment, no judgment being given on the merits of the
case."

Prince Louis de Bearn, Secretary of the French Legation, was a gentleman
of most pleasing personality. He was a strikingly handsome bachelor at
the time I knew him and was much seen in the gay world. He was never
called "Prince" in those days, but "Count"; but in a letter now before
me, written in 1904 by his son, who was recently an attache of the
French Embassy in Washington, he claims that both his father and
grandfather were Princes by right of birth. He also states that the
title was borne by his family before the Revolution of 1789. During his
official life in Washington, Prince de Bearn married Miss Beatrice
Winans, daughter of Ross Winans of Baltimore. Chevalier John George
Hulsemann, the Austrian Minister, was a convivial old bachelor and was
much esteemed at the Capital for his genial qualities. He lived on F
Street, below Pennsylvania Avenue, and was stationed in Washington for
many years.

Chevalier Giuseppe Bertinatti, the Italian Minister, commenced his
diplomatic career in Washington as a bachelor. He did not occupy a house
of his own, but lodged at the establishment of Mrs. Ulrich, which was
the headquarters of many foreigners. Fifty years ago and more, the
members of the Diplomatic Corps, with few exceptions, lived either in
modest residences or in boarding houses, in striking contrast with many
of the imposing mansions now occupied by the official representatives of
foreign lands. His mission was a diplomatic success and while at the
capital he married Mrs. Eugenie Bass, a handsome widow from Mississippi,
and soon departed upon another mission, taking his American bride with
him. Soon after the announcement of his prospective marriage, Count
Bertinatti issued invitations to a large dinner given in honor of his
_fiancee_. When the gala day arrived, Mrs. Bass, though quite
indisposed, was persuaded to be present at the dinner, but, feeling
decidedly ill, she retired from the table and in a short time became
much nauseated. When this state of affairs was explained to General
George Douglas Ramsay, one of the guests of the evening, his quick sally
was, "a Bass relief!"

Baron Frederick Charles Joseph von Gerolt, whom I knew very well and who
represented King William of Prussia, is still affectionately recalled by
his few survivors who cling to early associations. His departure from
Washington with his family was more deeply regretted than that of some
other foreign residents whom I remember, as they had made many friends
and had lived in Washington so long that they were regarded almost as
permanent residents. The Misses Bertha and Dorothea von Gerolt were
graceful dancers and were very popular. Dorothea married into the
Diplomatic Corps and accompanied her husband to Greece. I have heard
that Bertha became deeply attached to the Chevalier A. P. C. Van
Karnabeek, secretary of the Netherlands Legation, but that, owing to
religious considerations, her parents frowned upon the alliance. She
accordingly determined to enter upon a cloistered life and went to the
Georgetown convent where she became a nun, and was known until the day
of her death in 1890 as "Sister Angela." Baron von Gerolt was an
intellectual man and, prior to his career in the United States, his name
was much associated with Baron Alexander von Humboldt; but as neither he
nor Madame von Gerolt were proficient English scholars when they first
arrived they naturally depended upon others for instruction. I can vouch
for the truth of the statement that upon one occasion they were advised
by members of his own legation to greet those whom they met with the
words, "I'm damned glad to see you."

Mr. Alfred Bergmans, Secretary of the Belgian Legation, married Lily
Macalister, a Philadelphia heiress, who, in her widowhood, returned to
this country and made Washington her home. Madame Bergmans was a devotee
to society and was particularly fond of dancing. She was a _petite
blonde_, and, even after it ceased to be fashion, she wore her light
hair down her back in many ringlets. When George M. Robeson, President
Grant's Secretary of the Navy, saw her for the first time one evening
while she was dancing, he exclaimed, "That is the tripping of the light
fantastic toe." She married quite late in life J. Scott Laughton, who
was considerably her junior, but did not long survive the alliance.

Many members of the Diplomatic Corps of this period married American
women. Baron Guido von Grabow, one of the secretaries of the Prussian
Legation whom I knew very well, married Mrs. Edward Boyce, whose maiden
name was Nina Wood. She was a granddaughter of President Zachary Taylor
and was well known and beloved by old Washingtonians. Her marriage to
Baron von Grabow offers strong encouragement to persistent suitors. He
was deeply in love with her prior to her first marriage, but she
rejected him for Edward Boyce, who was a member of a prominent
Georgetown family. Mr. Boyce lived only a few years, and her subsequent
married life with Baron von Grabow was long and happy.

Alexandre Gau, _Chancelier_ of the Prussian Legation, married my younger
sister, Margaret, who was regarded as a remarkable beauty as well as an
accomplished linguist and pianist. Her wedding took place in our G
Street home in the same room where five months later her funeral
services were held. Mr. Gau did not long survive her and was interred by
her side in my father's old burial plot in Jamaica, Long Island.

Don Calderon de la Barca, the Spanish Minister to the United States,
together with his wife, who was Miss Fanny Inglis, and her sister, Miss
Lydia Inglis, were presiding social spirits in Washington for many
years. The latter married a Mr. McLeod, and, becoming financially
embarrassed, established on Staten Island a school for girls which was
ably conducted. These sisters were members of a Scotch family of
distinguished lineage. One of Mrs. McLeod's pupils was Mary E. Croghan,
a prominent heiress from Pittsburgh. She was still attending school on
Staten Island when Captain Edward W. H. Schenley of the Royal Navy, a
Scotch relative of Mrs. McLeod, came to America to visit her. In
inviting him to be her guest she felt that, as he was an elderly man,
he would prove to be quite immune to the attractions of mere school
girls. I met Captain Schenley about this same time in New York, and his
"make up" was of such a remarkable character that it was a favorite _on
dit_ that, when he was dressed for standing, a sitting posture was quite
an impossibility. Young Miss Croghan must have discovered fascinations
in this Scotchman as she eloped with him from Mrs. McLeod's school and
after a brief period accompanied him to England, where she spent the
remainder of her life. Mrs. McLeod was severely criticised by her
patrons for carelessness, and her school was somewhat injured by Miss
Croghan's matrimonial adventure.

Don Leopoldo Augusto De Cueto was another Spanish Minister, whom I
regarded as an agreeable acquaintance. During his _regime_ filibustering
against Spanish possessions, and especially Cuba, was a favorite pastime
of American citizens and rendered the position of the Spanish Minister
in Washington one of delicacy and difficulty. Residing in Washington
during De Cueto's tenure of office was a Cuban named Ambrosio Jose
Gonzales, who, in the Civil War, became Inspector General of Artillery
in the Confederate Army, under General Beauregard. As he was well versed
in music and had a remarkable voice, he frequently, upon request, sang
selections from the popular operas then in vogue. Among the songs
frequently heard in drawing-rooms was "Suoni la Tromba," from Bellini's
opera "I Puritani di Scozia," which had been interdicted by the Spanish
Government. One evening when De Cueto was spending an informal evening
with my sisters and myself at our G Street home, Mr. Gonzales happened
to call and was asked to sing. He seated himself at the piano and for
sometime sang various airs for us. Finally, not knowing that "Suoni la
Tromba" was under the Spanish ban, I asked him to sing it. During the
song De Cueto was politely attentive, and at its conclusion had the
politeness to applaud it. Imagine, however, my surprise when I heard a
few days later, through a mutual friend, that Gonzales had boasted that
he sang the song in De Cueto's presence, proudly adding that he had
looked the Spaniard full in the eye when he uttered the word
_libert[)a]_.

Mr. Jose de Marcoleta, the Nicaraguan Minister to the United States, was
an elderly and punctilious Spaniard. He was indefatigable in the
observance of all social duties, and I met him wherever I went. He was a
bachelor but, soon after his arrival in Washington, announced his
engagement to Miss Mary West of Boston, who unfortunately died before
her wedding day. I am under the impression that he eventually married
another American. I remember once when he called to see us I asked him
to tell me something about Nicaragua, which was then an almost unknown
country. My surprise can hardly be described when he told me he had
never seen the country which he represented, but was a native of Spain.

Baron Waldemar Rudolph Raasloff represented Denmark in a manner
creditable both to his country and our own. He told me that some years
previous to his mission to America he came to New York in the capacity
of an engineer and was engaged on work in New York harbor, "blowing up
rocks." Possibly he was thus employed at "Hell Gate," at that time one
of the most dangerous obstacles to navigation in that vicinity.

The well-known "Octagon," as the old Tayloe home on the corner of New
York Avenue and Eighteenth Street is still called, during my early
residence in Washington was closed. Many superstitious persons regarded
it with fear, as its reputation as a haunted house was then, in their
opinion, well established. I have been told by the daughters of General
George D. Ramsay that upon one occasion their father was requested by
Colonel John Tayloe, the father of Benjamin Ogle Tayloe, to remain at
the Octagon over night, when he was obliged to be absent, as a
protection to his daughters, Anne and Virginia. While the members of the
family were at the evening meal, the bells in the house began to ring
violently. General Ramsay immediately arose from the table to
investigate, but failed to unravel the mystery. The butler, in a state
of great alarm, rushed into the dining-room and declared that it was the
work of an unseen hand. As they continued to ring, General Ramsay held
the rope which controlled the bells, but, it is said, they were not
silenced. The architect of the Octagon was Dr. William Thornton, of the
West Indies, who designed the plans of the first capitol in Washington
and who was the controlling spirit of the three Commissioners appointed
by Congress to acquire a "territory not exceeding ten miles square" for
the establishment of a permanent seat of government. These men were
Daniel Carroll, Thomas Johnson, first Governor of the State of Maryland,
and David Stuart. Most of this land, which included Georgetown and
Alexandria, was primeval forest and was owned chiefly by Daniel Carroll,
Notley Young, Samuel Davidson and David Burns.

The Commissioners had great difficulty in dealing with Burns, who owned
nearly all of what is now the northwestern section of the city, as he
was a closefisted and hardheaded Scotchman, who was unwilling to part
with his lands without being roundly paid for them. When argument with
him proved fruitless, it is said that General Washington, realizing the
gravity of the situation, rode up several times from Mount Vernon to
discuss the situation with "stubborn Mr. Burns." At length, in despair,
he remarked: "Had not the Federal City been laid out here, you would
have died a poor planter." "Ay, mon," was Burns's ready response, "and
had you no married the widder Custis wi' a' her nagres ye'd ha'e been a
land surveyor the noo', an' a mighty poor ane at that!" It is further
related that Washington finally succeeded in winning Burns over to his
way of thinking, and that the canny Scotchman, realizing how largely he
was to profit by the transaction, actually became generous and gave to
the Commissioners, in fee simple, his apple orchard which is now the
beautiful Lafayette Square.

In passing through Lafayette Square, I have often sat down upon a bench
to rest near the "wishing tree," a dwarf chestnut so well known to
residents of the District, and I have been impressed by the many
superstitious persons, both men and women, who have stopped for a moment
and silently stood under its branches. Many are the credulous believers
in its power to satisfy human desires, and the season when its branches
are full of nuts is regarded by these as a specially propitious time for
their realization. With many persons this tree is the basis of their
only superstition.

I remember the case of a young girl who had been working very hard to
obtain a position in one of the departments but without success and who,
thoroughly discouraged, came to the tree early one morning and made the
wish that to her and her family meant the actual necessities of life.
She then sat down to rest upon a near-by bench before going home, and
while there became engaged in conversation with a pleasing looking
woman, to whom she poured forth her heart as she related her hopes and
disappointments about obtaining a government position. As her listener
was a sympathetic person, she asked the young woman her name and
address, and in a few days the poor girl received a notice to go to a
certain department for examination. It seems that her companion under
the tree was the wife of an influential Senator, who was so touched by
the young woman's efforts, as well as by her childish faith in the
"wishing tree," that she took pleasure in seeing that her great desire
was gratified.

At this time Washington was not far behind other large cities in games
of chance, and gambling was frequently indulged in quite openly. Edward
Pendleton's resort, a luxurious establishment down town, was regarded as
quite _a la mode_, and I have heard it said that he had able assistance
from social ranks. I have often wondered why a man who indulged in this
sport was called a gambler, as the term "gamester," used many years ago,
seems decidedly more appropriate. I own two volumes of a very old book,
published in the eighteenth century, entitled "The Gamesters," in which
the heroes are professional gamblers. I have seen Mrs. Pendleton's
costly equipage, drawn by horses with brilliant trappings and followed
by blooded hounds, coursing the length of Pennsylvania Avenue, while its
owner seemed entirely unconscious of the aching hearts which had
contributed to all her grandeur. Cards were universally played in
private homes and whist was the fashionable game, General Scott being
one of its chief devotees. I have often thought how much the old General
would have enjoyed "bridge," as there was nothing that gave him more
pleasure than playing the "dummy hand."

My old friend, Mrs. Diana Bullitt Kearny, the widow of General "Phil"
Kearny, in our many chats in her latter days, gave me many reminiscences
of Washington at a time when I was not residing there. She described a
fancy-dress ball given by her while residing in the old Porter house on
H Street, which must have been about 1848, as General Kearny had just
returned from the Mexican War. She dwelt particularly upon the costume
of Emma Meredith, one of her guests and the daughter of Jonathan
Meredith of Baltimore, who came to Washington to attend the party. She
represented a rainbow and her appearance was so gorgeous that Mrs.
Kearny said the Heavenly vision seemed almost within the grasp of common
mortals. Miss Meredith's supremacy as a belle has never been eclipsed. I
recall a painful incident connected with her life. A young naval
officer was deeply in love with her and, it is said, was under the
impression that she intended to marry him. At a theater party one
evening he discovered his mistake and, taking the affair to heart,
returned to his quarters and the same evening swallowed a dose of
corrosive sublimate. Physicians were immediately summoned and, although
he regretted the act and expressed a desire to live, they were unable to
save him. It is said that about the same time Miss Meredith left her
home in Baltimore to visit her sister, Mrs. Gardiner G. Howland, whose
husband was one of the merchant princes of New York, and that, as she
crossed the Jersey City Ferry, one of the first objects which met her
eyes was the funeral cortege of her disappointed lover _en route_ to his
final resting place. Subsequent to this tragedy, I met Miss Meredith in
Saratoga, surrounded by the usual admiring throng. She never married. I
heard of her in recent years, at a summer resort near Baltimore, and,
although advanced in years, I understood she still possessed exceptional
powers of attraction. Only a short time ago I heard a young man remark
that he knew her very well and that he would rather converse with her
than with women many years her junior.

Mrs. Kearny was said to be the last of the "Lafayette girls." In 1825,
when Lafayette made his memorable visit to the United States as the
guest of the nation, she was living with her parents in Louisville, and
at the tender age of five strewed flowers in the pathway of the
distinguished Frenchman. She remembered the incident perfectly and in
our numerous conversations I have repeatedly heard her allude to it. She
told me that, seated at General Lafayette's side in the carriage which
conveyed him through the city, was the great-uncle, Colonel Richard C.
Anderson, who led the advance of the American troops at the Battle of
Trenton. General Robert Anderson, U.S.A., whose memory the country
honors as the defender of Fort Sumpter, was his son. The General's
widow, a daughter of General Duncan L. Clinch, U.S.A., resided in
Washington until her death a few years ago. She was a woman of rare
intelligence and, although a great invalid for many years, gathered
around her an appreciative circle of friends, who were always charmed by
her attractive personality.

In my earliest recollection of Washington the old Van Ness house was
still sheltered by many trees. The foliage was so dense that it may have
been the desire of the occupants to shield themselves in this manner
from public view. When I first knew the landmark it was occupied by
Thomas Green, an old-time resident of the District. He married, as his
second wife, Ann Corbin Lomax, a daughter of Major Mann Page Lomax of
the Ordnance Department of the Army. During the Civil War, Mr. Green's
sympathies were with the South, but he took no active part in the
conflict. One of his idiosyncrasies was to pick up, on and around his
spacious grounds, scraps of old iron, such as horse shoes, hay rakes and
the like, which were placed in a corner of his capacious cellar.
Suspicion was centered upon his house by information given to the
government by an old family servant who thought he was doing the country
a service, and directions were accordingly given that it should be
searched. While this order was in process of execution, the discovery of
the scrap-iron is said to have played an important part and in some
unaccountable manner to have aroused further suspicion. Whatever the
logic of the situation may have been is not intelligible, but the fact
remains I that Mr. and Mrs. Green and the latter's sister, Miss Virginia
Lomax, were arrested in a summary manner and taken to the Old Capital
Prison, where for a time they were kept in close confinement, during
which Miss Lomax suffered severe indisposition and, as is said, never
entirely recovered from the effects of her incarceration. About
twenty-five years after the War, while staying at the same house with
her in Warrenton, Virginia, I quite longed to hear her reminiscences of
prison life; but when I expressed my desire to a member of her family, I
was requested not to broach the subject as, even at this late day, it
was painful to her as a topic of conversation.

During the War of 1812, Major Lomax was sent upon a mission to Canada by
the U.S. Government and, one day during his brief sojourn, dined in
company with some British officers. During the dinner a toast was
offered by one of the sons of John Bull: "To President Madison, dead or
alive." The responding toast by Major Lomax was: "To the Prince Regent,
drunk or sober." The British officer who had proposed the toast to
Madison immediately sprang to his feet and with much indignation
inquired: "Do you mean to insult me, sir?" The quick rejoinder was: "I
am responding to an insult!"

I met Charles Sumner soon after his first appearance in the United
States Senate as the successor of Daniel Webster, who had become
Secretary of State. He was a man of striking appearance and bore himself
with the dignity so characteristic of the statesmen of that period.
"Sumner is one of them literary fellows," was the facetious criticism of
the Hon. Zachariah Chandler of Michigan, who a few years later became
one of his colleagues in the Senate, and who in earlier life was
accumulating a large fortune while Mr. Sumner, in his Massachusetts
home, was engaged in those intellectual and scholarly pursuits which
eventually made him one of the ripest and most accomplished students in
the land. Chandler, however, in his own way, furnished a conspicuous
example to aspiring youths of the day, both by his earlier and
subsequent life, of what may be accomplished by determined application.

For a decade or more preceding the Civil War the political sentiment of
Washington, especially in reference to the violent anti-slavery
agitation then engrossing the thought of the country, was decidedly in
sympathy with the attitude of the South. It is not, therefore,
surprising that Sumner, whose radical views were known from Maine to
Texas, should have been received at first in Washington society with but
little cordiality. As the years passed along, he was rapidly forging
himself ahead to the leadership of his party in the Senate and, of
course, became strongly inimical to Buchanan's administration. He was
regarded with confidence and esteem by his own party, and, although
naturally both disliked and feared by his political opponents, it could
be truthfully said of him that he was

    A man that fortune's buffets and rewards
    Hast ta'en with equal thanks,

and that no attempts to socially ostracize or to deride him for his
political views and his intense application to his sense of duty
deterred the great Massachusetts statesman from pursuing the "even tenor
of his way."

An anecdote went the rounds of the Capital to the effect that, one
morning when a gentleman called to see Sumner at his rooms on
Pennsylvania Avenue, a  attendant answered the door and after
glancing at his card informed him that it would be impossible to disturb
his master, as he was rehearsing before a looking-glass a speech which
he expected to deliver the following morning. Whether this was
originally told by a friend or foe of Mr. Sumner is not known. Mr.
Sumner once requested me to take him to see a young Washington belle who
combined Parisian grace with Kentucky dash. I refer to Miss Sally
Strother, an acknowledged beauty of decidedly Southern views, who lived
on Seventh Street near F Street, now a commercial center. Mr. Sumner and
I walked to her house from my home on G Street and found several guests
in her drawing-room, where the topic of conversation, in the course of
the evening, drifted to the subject of spiritualism. It was announced
that at a recent _seance_ the spirit of Washington had appeared and
uttered the usual platitudes, whereupon Miss Strother, without a
moment's hesitation, remarked: "I wonder what General Washington would
say about Mr. Sumner?" Someone undertook to define Washington's views,
but Miss Strother interrupted and said: "I know just what he would
say--that he was a very intelligent, a very handsome, but a very bad
man." This remark was naturally productive of much mirth, but failed to
arouse any manifestation of feeling or disapprobation on the part of Mr.
Sumner. Later, as we were walking homeward he remarked: "I have
_l'esprit d'escalier_ and my retorts do not come until I am well-nigh
down the flight of stairs." Sally Strother went abroad, where she
married Baron Fahnenberg of Belgium, and shared a fate similar to that
of many of her country-women, as she was finally separated from her
husband. She cherished, however, a pride of title and bequeathed $60,000
to erect in Spa, Belgium, a handsome chapel as well as a vault to
contain the remains of her mother, brother and herself. Her Kentucky
relatives, however, including the family of Mrs. Basil Duke, succeeded
in breaking the will on the ground that her mother's will, through which
she had inherited her property, did not permit it to leave the family.
The chapel and vault, accordingly, were not built, and all her property
reverted to her relatives.

In addition to his commanding presence, nature bestowed upon Mr. Sumner
a clear and melodious voice, which rendered it quite unnecessary for him
to resort to Demosthenic methods of cultivation. For many years his
inspiring words could be heard upon the floor of the Senate in all of
the leading debates of the day, and his masterly orations will go down
to posterity as an important contribution to the history of many
national administrations.

I well remember Preston S. Brooks's cowardly assault upon Charles Sumner
in the Senate Chamber in the spring of 1856. Public indignation ran very
high, and his political opponents referred to him thereafter as "Bully
Brooks." Socially, as well as politically, he was popular. He possessed
a gentle and pleasing bearing and it would have been difficult for
anyone to associate him with such a cruel outrage. His uncle, Andrew P.
Butler, who was in the U.S. Senate from South Carolina at the same time,
was a fine-looking and venerable gentleman, but he was one of the class
then designated as "fire-eaters."

There existed between Mr. Sumner and Henry W. Longfellow a strong
friendship which was contracted in early life. I have often heard the
Massachusetts statesman recite some of his friend's poetical lines,
which seemed to me additionally beautiful when rendered in his deep and
sonorous voice. In the latter years of his life he resided in the house
which is now the Arlington Hotel Annex, where he surrounded himself with
his remarkable collection of books and articles of _virtu_ which he
exhibited with pride to his guests. I especially recall an old clock
presented to him by Henry Sanford, Minister to Belgium, as an artistic
work of exceptional beauty. Mr. Sumner, by the way, was an accomplished
connoisseur in art. I have heard him strongly denounce Clark Mills's
equestrian statue of General Andrew Jackson, now standing in the center
of Lafayette Square. He told me that on one occasion he was conducting a
party of Englishmen through the streets of the National Capital and, as
they were driving along Pennsylvania Avenue, he seated himself in such a
position as to entirely obstruct the view of what he called this
"grotesque statue," calling the attention of his guests, meanwhile, to
the White House on the other side of the street.

I felt honored in calling Charles Sumner my friend, and I take especial
pleasure in repeating the encomium that "to the wisdom of the statesman
and the learning of the scholar he joined the consecration of a patriot,
the honor of a knight and the sincerity of a Christian." George Sumner,
his brother, did not appear in the land of his birth as a celebrity, but
he had a remarkable career abroad. He hobnobbed with royalty throughout
the European continent and was highly regarded for his profound
learning. He studied at the Universities of Heidelberg and Berlin and
traveled extensively through Europe, Asia and Africa. He never tarried
long in his "native heath," and furnished conspicuous evidence that "a
prophet is not without honor save in his own country." Alexander von
Humboldt praised the accuracy of his researches and Alexis de
Tocqueville referred to him as being better acquainted with European
politics than any European with whom he was acquainted.

While Sumner was in the Senate, George T. Davis of Greenfield,
Massachusetts, was a member of the House of Representatives. I knew him
very well and he was a constant visitor at our home. He was celebrated
for his flashes of wit, which sometimes stimulated undeveloped powers in
others, and I have often seen dull perceptions considerably sharpened at
his approach. Oliver Wendell Holmes speaks of his witty sayings in the
"Autocrat of the Breakfast Table," and his conversational powers were so
brilliant that they won the admiration of Thackeray. Robert Rantoul,
also from Massachusetts, and a colleague of Davis, was a "Webster Whig"
and a powerful exponent of the "Free-Soil" faith. Davis, who was so
bright and clever in the drawing-room, could not, however, compete with
Rantoul on the floor of the House in parliamentary debate. The epitaph
on Rantoul's monument says that "He died at his post in Congress, and
his last words were a protest in the name of Democracy against the
Fugitive-Slave Law." One of the verses of Whittier's poem, entitled
"Rantoul," reads as follows:--

    Through him we hoped to speak the word
      Which wins the freedom of a land;
    And lift, for human right, the sword
      Which dropped from Hampden's dying hand.

I first met the eccentric Count Adam Gurowski at the convivial tea table
of Miss Emily Harper in Newport, upon one of those balmy summer evenings
so indelibly impressed upon my memory. He was, perhaps, in many
respects, one of the most remarkable characters that Washington has ever
known. He was a son of Count Ladislas Gurowski, an ardent admirer of
Kosciusko, and was active in revolutionary projects in Poland in
consequence of which he was condemned to death by the Russian
authorities. He managed, however, to escape and in 1835 published a work
entitled "La Verite sur la Russie," in which he advocated a union of the
various branches of the Slavic race. This book was so favorably regarded
in Russia that its author was recalled and employed in the civil
service. He came to this country in 1849, and, after being employed on
the staff of _The New York Tribune_, came to Washington, where his
linguistic attainments and the aid of Charles Sumner secured for him a
position as translator in the State Department, which he held from 1861
to 1863.

The Count was a medley of strange whims and idiosyncrasies that almost
baffle description. Together with his strong individuality, he possessed
a trait which made many enemies and ultimately proved his undoing. I
refer to his uncontrollable desire to contradict and to antagonize. It
was simply impossible to find a subject upon which he and anyone else
could agree. There were, however, extenuating circumstances. "Chill
penury," forced upon him by the state of his financial affairs, had much
to do with his cynical and acrimonious spirit. Prosperity is certainly
conducive to an amiable bearing, and I believe that Gurowski would have
been more conciliatory if adversity had not so persistently attended
his pathway. It is highly probable, too, that Gurowski would have
retained his position under the government indefinitely but for his
unfortunate disposition. He wrote a diary from 1861 to 1863 which he was
so indiscreet as to keep in his desk in the State Department; and,
unknown at first to him, some of its pages were brought to the attention
of certain officials of the government. They contained anything but
complimentary references to his chief, William H. Seward, Secretary of
State, and he was discharged. Meanwhile he had antagonized his
benefactor, Mr. Sumner, by opposing, in a caustic manner, his views in
reference to the conduct of the Civil War, and by other similar
indiscretions was making new enemies almost every day.

The intense bitterness and intemperance of Gurowski in the expression of
his views is well illustrated in a conversation quoted by one of his
friends in _The Atlantic Monthly_ more than forty years ago. It had
reference to a period preceding the Civil War when the "Fugitive-Slave
Law" was engrossing the attention of the country. "What do I care for
Mr. Webster," he said. "I can read the Constitution as well as Mr.
Webster." "But surely, Count, you would not presume to dispute Mr.
Webster's opinion on a question of constitutional law?" "And why not? I
tell you I can read the Constitution as well as Mr. Webster, and I say
that the 'Fugitive-Slave Law' is unconstitutional--is an outrage, and an
imposition of which you will all soon be ashamed. It is a disgrace to
your humanity and to your republicanism, and Mr. Webster should be hung
for advocating it. He is a humbug or an ass--an ass, if he believes such
an infamous law to be constitutional, and if he does not believe it, he
is a humbug and a scoundrel for advocating it."

The Count's sarcastic reference to Secretary Seward is equally amusing.
It seems that one of his duties, while in the State Department, was to
keep a close watch upon the European newspapers for matters of interest
to our government, and also to furnish the Secretary of State, when
requested, with opinions on diplomatic questions, or, as Gurowski
expressed it, "to read the German newspapers and keep Seward from making
a fool of himself." The first duty, he said, was easy enough, but the
latter was rather difficult!

In 1854 Gurowski published his book, "Russia as it is," which was soon
followed by another work entitled, "America and Europe." Both of them
met with a favorable reception, but, after losing his government
position, it became a difficult matter for him to eke out a maintenance,
and his disposition, if possible, became still more embittered. At an
evening party I took part by chance in an animated discussion upon the
subject of dueling. Suddenly my eye lighted upon Count Gurowski, who had
just entered the room. Calling him to my side I asked him in facetious
tones how many men he had killed. He quickly responded, "Wonly (only)
two!"

Count Gurowski's fund of knowledge was in many ways highly remarkable,
especially upon his favorite theme of royalty and nobility, past and
present. He was intensely disliked by the Diplomatic Corps in
Washington, many of whose members regarded him as a Russian spy, a
suspicion which, of course, was without the slightest foundation. Baron
Waldemar Rudolph Raasloff, the Danish Minister, once refused to enter a
box at the opera where I was seated because Gurowski was one of the
party. The Count seemed to be in touch with sources of information
relating to diplomats and their affairs which were unknown to others--a
fact which naturally aroused dislike and jealousy. He once announced to
me, for example, that the _attaches_ of the French Legation were in a
state of great good humor, as their salaries had been raised that day.
I once heard a member of a foreign legation say to another: "Gurowski is
an emanation of the Devil." "The Devil, you say," was the response,
"why, he is the Devil himself." In discussing with a foreigner the
Count's exile by the Russian government, I said that I knew of relatives
of his in high position in Russia. Evidently controlled by his
prejudices, he replied: "It must be a family of contrasts, as his
position in this country is certainly a low one." If he intended to
convey the impression that the Count was "low" in his pocket, his
statement was certainly correct, but not otherwise. It is true that his
unhappy disposition made him more enemies than friends, but he was by no
means devoid of admirable traits, even if he so frequently preferred to
conceal them. The finer side of his nature and his pleasing qualities
only were presented to my sister, Mrs. Eames, who always welcomed him to
her house. One day when he called the condition of his health seemed so
precarious that she insisted upon his becoming her guest. He accepted
the invitation, but did not long survive, and in the spring of 1866 his
turbulent spirit passed away while under my sister's roof. Much respect
was paid to his memory and the most distinguished men and women in
Washington attended his funeral. He is buried in the Congressional
Cemetery, where a crested tablet surmounts his grave. Little was
generally known of his immediate family relations, but Robert Carter,
one of his most intimate friends and the author of the article in _The
Atlantic Monthly_, already referred to, states that he was a widower and
had a son in the Russian Navy and a married daughter in Switzerland.

Early in life his brother, Count Ignatius Gurowski, met the Infanta
Isabella de Bourbon, sister of the Prince Consort of Spain, while she
was receiving her education at the _Sacre Coeur_ in Paris, and eloped
with her. They were pensioned by the Spanish government for a while
under Queen Isabella's reign and made their home in Brussels. I have
heard, however, that when Isabella was forced from the throne the
pension ceased and their circumstances became quite reduced. It is said
that the Prince Consort, Ignatius Gurowski's brother-in-law, suggested
to him soon after his marriage that it might be well for him to be
created a Duke of the realm. This friendly offer was declined with
indignation. "I would prefer," said Gurowski, "being an old Count to a
new Duke!"

Sometime ago I saw the statement in a newspaper to the effect that
descendants of Ignatius Gurowski were living in the United States. This
suggests, although remotely, the inquiry heard many years ago: "Have we
a Bourbon among us?"--referring, of course, to the last Dauphin, whom
many believed to exist in the person of the Rev. Eleazer Williams, who
resided in St. Lawrence County, New York. The Rev. Dr. Francis L. Hawks
had such an abiding faith that Williams was actually the Dauphin that he
wrote an article in 1853 for _Putnam's Magazine_ expressive of his
views. If the newspaper story and Dr. Hawks's claims be true, this
country has accordingly been the retreat of more than one member of the
ill-fated Bourbon family. Several years ago I was surprised to hear it
stated that the father of Kuroki, the famous Japanese General, was a
brother of Adam and Ignatius Gurowski. This information, I am informed,
came from a nephew of General Kuroki who was receiving his education in
Europe. "My uncle Kuroki," he is said to have written, "is of Polish
origin. His father was a Polish nobleman by the name of Kourowski, who
fled from Russia after the Revolution of 1831. He finally went to Japan
and married a Japanese. As the name of Kourowski is difficult to
pronounce in Japanese, my uncle pronounced it Kuroki. The General's
father, upon his death bed said to him that perhaps some day he would
be able to take vengeance upon the Russians for their cruel treatment of
unhappy Poland."

One of the most notable men of my acquaintance in Washington was Caleb
Cushing. I first met him when he was Attorney-General in President
Pierce's Cabinet, and the friendship formed at that time lasted for many
years. He was among the guests at my wedding, and Miss Emily Harper,
whom he accompanied, told me that he especially commented upon that
portion of the service which reads, "those whom God hath joined
together, let no man put asunder." His remarks evidently appealed to her
as an ardent Roman Catholic. Ralph Waldo Emerson declared Mr. Cushing to
be the most eminent scholar of the country, and Wendell Phillips went
still further and said: "I regard Mr. Cushing as the most learned man
living." His habit was one of constant acquirement. He was what I should
call "a Northern man with Southern principles," an expression which
originated in 1835, and was first applied to Martin Van Buren. I have
heard Cushing defend slavery with great eloquence and although, like
him, I was born and bred in the North, I regarded that institution, in
some respects, as far less iniquitous than the infamous opium trade
which so enriched British and American merchants, and of which I saw so
much during my life in China.

It must have been from his Pilgrim forefather that Mr. Cushing inherited
a decided antipathy for Great Britain, and it was once said that he
carried this prejudice so far that he refused to visit England. This
statement, however, is untrue, as I have before me an amusing article,
written many years ago by his private secretary, during his mission to
Spain, which contradicts it. He gives some amusing incidents connected
with his visit of a few days in London when he and Mr. Cushing were _en
route_ to Spain. "Mr. Cushing's headwear," he writes, "was a silk hat
which must have been the fashion of about the time he discarded
umbrellas. It was slightly pointed at the top and there was, so to say,
no back or front to it and there was no band for it. As I knew he
intended paying several visits, I asked him if he would not exchange his
hat, which at the time was thoroughly soaked, for a new and lighter one.
The old man took off his ancient hat, examined it critically and then
said slowly and deliberately, as if delivering an opinion on the bench,
'No, sir, I think that I shall wait and see what the fashions are in
Madrid.' It was said with much earnestness, as if it had been a state
question. A third person would have found it irresistibly funny, but
there was nothing laughable in it to General Cushing. In fact, his sense
of humor was of a very grim order." He also writes: "The old man was an
inveterate smoker, and yet, during the whole period of my intercourse
with him, I did not see him light a score of fresh cigars. He bought
them, that is certain, but he must have been averse to lighting them in
public for he almost invariably had a stump between his lips. Ask him if
he would have a cigar and the answer would be, 'Thank you, sir, I think
I have one,' and out would come a dilapidated case, from which he would
shake from one to half a dozen butts as the supply ran."

While Cushing was Attorney-General under President Pierce, he formed a
friendship with Madame Calderon de la Barca, of whom I have already
spoken, who, upon his arrival in Madrid, was one of the first persons to
greet him. She was then a widow and occupied a high social position at
the Spanish court. Cushing and she thoroughly enjoyed the renewal of
their earlier friendship in Washington, and the last visit he made in
Madrid was when he bade her a final farewell. In 1843, and prior to his
mission to Spain, Mr. Cushing was appointed by President Tyler Minister
to China, where his able diplomacy has been the subject of recognition
and admiration to this day. He carried with him the following
remarkable letter which he was charged by the President to deliver in
person to the Emperor. It may have been--who knows?--the first lesson in
occidental geography submitted to the "Brother of the Sun and the Sister
of the Moon and Stars." Had the President of the United States been
called upon to address a country Sunday School, he could hardly have
exhibited a more conscious effort to adapt himself to the level of his
hearers. This is the letter:--

     I, John Tyler, President of the United States of
     America--which states are Maine, New Hampshire,
     Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, Vermont, New York,
     New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia,
     North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Kentucky,
     Tennessee, Ohio, Louisiana, Indiana, Mississippi, Illinois,
     Alabama, Missouri, Arkansas and Michigan--send this letter
     of peace and friendship, signed by my own hand.

     I hope your health is good. China is a great empire,
     extending over a great part of the world. The Chinese are
     numerous. You have millions and millions of subjects. The
     twenty-six United States are as large as China, though our
     people are not so numerous. The rising sun looks upon the
     great mountains and great rivers of China. When he sets he
     looks upon mountains and rivers equally large in the United
     States. Our territories extend from one great ocean to the
     other; and on the west we are divided only from your domain
     by the sea. Leaving the mouth of one of our great rivers and
     going constantly towards the setting sun we sail to Japan
     and the Yellow Sea.

     Now, my words are that the governments of two such great
     countries should be at peace. It is proper and according to
     the will of heaven that they should respect each other and
     act wisely. I therefore send to your Court Caleb Cushing one
     of the wise and learned men of this country. On his first
     arrival in China he will inquire for your health. He has
     strict orders to go to your great city of Pekin and there
     to deliver this letter. He will have with him secretaries
     and interpreters.

     The Chinese love to trade with our people and sell them tea
     and silk for which our people pay silver and sometimes other
     articles. But if the Chinese and Americans will trade there
     should be rules so that they shall not break your laws or
     our laws. Our minister, Caleb Cushing, is authorized to make
     a treaty to regulate trade. Let it be just. Let there be no
     unfair advantage on either side. Let the people trade not
     only at Canton, but also at Amoy, Ningpo, Shanghai, Fushan
     and all such other places as may offer profitable exchanges
     both to China and the United States, provided they do not
     break your laws or our laws. We shall not take the part of
     the evil doers. We shall not uphold them that break your
     laws. Therefore we doubt that you will be pleased that our
     messenger of peace, with this letter in hand, shall come to
     Pekin and there deliver it, and that your great officers
     will, by your order, make a treaty with him to regulate the
     affairs of trade, so that nothing may happen to disturb the
     peace between China and America. Let the treaty be signed by
     your own imperial hand. It shall be signed by mine, by the
     authority of the great council, the Senate.

     And so may your health be good and may peace reign.

     Written at Washington this twelfth day of July, in the year
     of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and forty-three.

          Your good friend,

               JOHN TYLER,
               President.

Mr. Cushing accordingly negotiated our first treaty with China on the 3d
of July of the following year, and his ability at that time, as well as
thereafter, won for him, irrespective of party affiliations, an enviable
place in the history of American diplomacy. He was sent upon his mission
to Spain in 1874 by the party which he had opposed from its first
organization, and his diplomatic erudition was indispensable to the
State Department during the Grant administration.

Certain events in the career of Mr. Cushing serve to recall the days of
Mr. and Mrs. Franklin Pierce, whose lives were clouded by a grief that
saddened the whole of their subsequent career. A short time before
Pierce's inauguration, the President-elect with Mrs. Pierce and their
only son, a lad of immature years, were on their way to Andover in
Massachusetts, when the child was accidentally killed. Mrs. Pierce never
could be diverted from her all-absorbing sorrow, and I shall always
remember the grief-stricken expression of this first Lady of the Land.
Her maiden name was Jane Means Appleton, and she was the daughter of the
Rev. Dr. Jesse Appleton, President of Bowdoin College. During the Pierce
administration, Judge John Cadwalader, the father of the present John
Cadwalader of Philadelphia, was a member of Congress. The son was then a
mere lad, but he bore such a strong resemblance to the President's son
that one day when Mrs. Pierce met him she was completely overcome. After
this boy had become a man and had attained exceptional eminence at the
bar, he feelingly alluded to this touching incident of his earlier days.

I was very intimately acquainted with Elizabeth and Fanny MacNeil,
President Pierce's nieces, who were occasional visitors at the White
House. They were daughters of General John MacNeil, U.S.A., who had
acquitted himself with distinction in the War of 1812. Elizabeth
married, as before stated, General Henry W. Benham of the Engineer Corps
of the Army, and Fanny became the wife of Colonel Chandler E. Potter,
U.S.A. Dr. Thomas Miller was our family physician for many years. He
came to Washington from Loudoun County, Virginia, and married Miss
Virginia Collins Jones, daughter of Walter Jones, an eminent lawyer.
During the Pierce administration he was physician to the President's
family.




CHAPTER XI

MARRIAGE AND CONTINUED LIFE IN WASHINGTON


I met my future father-in-law, Samuel L. Gouverneur, Sr., for the first
time in Cold Spring, New York. Mr. Gouverneur, accompanied by his second
wife, then a bride, who was Miss Mary Digges Lee, of Needwood, Frederick
County, Maryland, and a granddaughter of Thomas Sim Lee, second Governor
of the same state, was the guest of Gouverneur Kemble. When I first knew
Mr. Gouverneur he possessed every gift that fortune as well as nature
can bestow. To quote the words of Eliab Kingman, a lifelong friend of
his and who for many years was the Nestor of the Washington press, "he
even possessed a seductive voice." General Scott, prior to my marriage
into the family, remarked to me that there "was something in Mr.
Gouverneur lacking of greatness."

The history of my husband's family is so well known that it seems almost
superfluous to dwell upon it, but, as these reminiscences are purely
personal, I may at least incidentally refer to it. Samuel L. Gouverneur,
Sr., was the youngest child of Nicholas Gouverneur and his wife, Hester
Kortright, a daughter of Lawrence Kortright, a prominent merchant of New
York and at one time president of its Chamber of Commerce. He was
graduated from Columbia College in New York in the class of 1817, and
married his first cousin, Maria Hester Monroe, the younger daughter of
James Monroe. This wedding took place in the East Room of the White
House. My husband, Samuel L. Gouverneur, Jr., was the youngest child of
this alliance. _The National Intelligencer_ of March 11, 1820, contained
the following brief marriage notice:

     _Married_

     On Thursday evening last [March 9th], in this City, by the
     Reverend Mr. [William] Hawley, Samuel Laurence Gouverneur,
     Esq., of New York, to Miss Maria Hester Monroe, youngest
     daughter of James Monroe, President of the United States.

For a number of years Samuel L. Gouverneur, Sr., was private secretary
to his father-in-law, President Monroe. In 1825 he was a member of the
New York Legislature, and from 1828 to 1836 Postmaster of the City of
New York. For many years, like the gentlemen of his day and class, he
was much interested in racehorses and at one time owned the famous
horse, _Post Boy_. He was also deeply interested in the drama and it was
partially through his efforts that many brilliant stars were brought to
this country to perform at the Bowery Theater in New York, of which he
was a partial owner. Among its other owners were Prosper M. Wetmore, the
well-known author and regent of the University of the State of New York,
and General James A. Hamilton, son of Alexander Hamilton and acting
Secretary of State in 1829, under Jackson. Mr. Gouverneur was a man of
decidedly social tastes and at one period of his life owned and occupied
the De Menou buildings on H Street in Washington, where, during the life
of his first wife, he gave some brilliant entertainments. It was from
this house that his son, and my future husband, went to the Mexican War.
Many years subsequent to my marriage I heard Rear Admiral John J. Almy,
U.S.N., describe some of the entertainments given by the Gouverneur
family, and he usually wound up his reminiscences by informing me that
sixteen baskets of champagne were frequently consumed by the guests
during a single evening. My old friend, Emily Mason, loved to refer to
these parties and told me that she made her _debut_ at one of them. The
house was well adapted for entertainments, as there were four spacious
drawing-rooms, two on each side of a long hall, one side being reserved
for dancing.

At the time of the Gouverneur-Monroe wedding the bride was but sixteen
years of age, and many years younger than her only sister, Eliza, who
was the wife of Judge George Hay of Virginia, the United States
District-Attorney of that State, and the prosecuting officer at the
trial of Aaron Burr. Mrs. Hay was educated in Paris at Madame Campan's
celebrated school, where she was the associate and friend of Hortense de
Beauharnais, subsequently the Queen of Holland and the mother of
Napoleon III. The Rev. Dr. William Hawley, who performed the marriage
ceremony of Miss Monroe and Mr. Gouverneur, was the rector of old St.
John's Church in Washington. He was a gentleman of the old school and
always wore knee breeches and shoe buckles. In the War of 1812 he
commanded a company of divinity students in New York, enlisted for the
protection of the city. It is said that when ordered to the frontier he
refused to go and resigned his commission, and I have heard that
Commodore Stephen Decatur refused to attend St. John's Church during his
rectorship, because he said he did not care to listen to a man who
refused to obey orders.

[Illustration: MRS. JAMES MONROE, NEE KORTRIGHT, BY BENJAMIN WEST.

_Original portrait owned by Mrs. Gouverneur._]

Only the relatives and personal friends attended the Gouverneur-Monroe
wedding at the White House; even the members of the Cabinet were not
invited. The gallant General Thomas S. Jesup, one of the heroes of the
War of 1812 and Subsistance Commissary General of the Army, acted as
groomsman to Mr. Gouverneur. Two of his daughters, Mrs. James Blair and
Mrs. Augustus S. Nicholson, still reside at the National Capital and are
prominent "old Washingtonians." After this quiet wedding, Mr. and Mrs.
Gouverneur left Washington upon a bridal tour and about a week later
returned to the White House, where, at a reception, Mrs. Monroe gave up
her place as hostess to mingle with her guests, while Mrs. Gouverneur
received in her place. Commodore and Mrs. Stephen Decatur, who lived on
Lafayette Square, gave the bride her first ball, and two mornings later,
on the twenty-second of March, 1820, Decatur fought his fatal duel with
Commodore James Barron and was brought home a corpse. "The bridal
festivities," wrote Mrs. William Winston Seaton, wife of the editor of
_The National Intelligencer_, "have received a check which will prevent
any further attentions to the President's family, in the murder of
Decatur." The invitations already sent out for an entertainment in honor
of the bride and groom by Commodore David Porter, father of the late
Admiral David D. Porter, U.S.N., were immediately countermanded.

I never had the pleasure of knowing my mother-in-law, Mrs. Maria Hester
Monroe Gouverneur, as she died some years before my marriage, but I
learned to revere her through her son, whose tender regard for her was
one of the absorbing affections of his life and changed the whole
direction of his career. At an early age he was appointed a Lieutenant
in the regular Army and served with distinction through the Mexican War
in the Fourth Artillery. On one occasion subsequent to that conflict,
while his mother was suffering from a protracted illness, he applied to
the War Department for leave of absence in order that he might visit her
sick bed; and when it was not granted he resigned his commission and
thus sacrificed an enviable position to his sense of filial duty. Many
years later, after my husband's decease, in looking over his papers I
found these lines written by him just after his mother's death:--

"A man through life has but _one_ true friend and that friend generally
leaves him early. Man enters the lists of life but ere he has fought his
way far that friend falls by his side; he never finds another so fond,
so true, so faithful to the last--_His Mother_!"

Mrs. Gouverneur was somewhat literary in her tastes and, like many
others of her time, regarded it as an accomplishment to express herself
in verse on sentimental occasions. One of my daughters, whom she never
saw, owns the original manuscript of the following lines written as a
tribute of friendship to the daughter of President John Tyler, at the
time of her marriage:--

    TO MISS TYLER ON HER WEDDING DAY.

    The day, the happy day, has come
      That gives you to your lover's arms;
    Check not the tear or rising bloom
      That springs from all those strange alarms.

    To be a blest and happy wife
      Is what all women wish to prove;
    And may you know through all your life
      The dear delights of wedded love.

    'Tis not strange that you should feel
      Confused in every thought and feeling;
    Your bosom heave, the tear should steal
      At thoughts of all the friends you're leaving.

    Happy girl may your life prove,
      All sunshine, joy and purest pleasure;
    One long, long day of happy love,
      Your husband's joy, his greatest treasure.

    Be to him all that woman ought,
      In joy and health and every sorrow;
    Let his true pleasures be only sought
      With you to-day, with you to-morrow.

    Believe not that in palace walls
      'Tis only there that joy you'll find;
    At home with friends in your own halls
      There's more content and peace of mind.

    More splendor you may find 'tis true,
      And glitter, show, and elevation,
    But if the world of you speak true,
      You prize not wealth or this high station.

    Your heart's too pure, your mind too high,
      To prize such empty pomp and state;
    You leave such scenes without a sigh
      To court the joys that on you wait.

After meeting Mr. and Mrs. Gouverneur, my future husband's father and
his second wife, at Cold Spring, I renewed my acquaintance with them in
Washington, where they were living in an old-fashioned house on New York
Avenue, between Fourteenth and Fifteenth Streets. We often welcomed Mrs.
Gouverneur as a guest at our Washington home and I was subsequently
invited to visit her at their country seat, Needwood, Frederick County,
Maryland, located upon a tract of land chiefly composed of large farms
at one time owned exclusively by the Lee family. I quote Mrs.
Gouverneur's graceful letter of invitation:--

     My dear Miss Campbell,

     I can not refrain from writing to remind you of your promise
     to us; this must be about the time fixed upon, (at least we
     all feel as if it was), and the season is so delightful, not
     to mention the strawberries which will be in great
     perfection this week--these reasons, together with our great
     desire to see you, determined me to give you warning that we
     are surely expecting you, and hope to hear very soon from
     you to say when we may send to the _Knoxville_ depot for
     you. I would be so much gratified if Mrs. Eames would come
     with you; it would give us all the sincerest pleasure, and I
     do not think that such a journey would be injurious. You
     leave Washington to come here on the early (6 o'clock)
     train, get out at the Relay House, and wait until the
     western cars pass, (about 8 o'clock), get into them, and
     reach Knoxville at 12 o'clock. So you see that altogether
     you have only six hours, and you rest more than half an hour
     at the Relay House. From Knoxville our carriage brings you
     to "Needwood" in less than an hour. If there is any
     gentleman you would like to come as an escort Mr. G. and
     myself will be most happy to see him. Dr. Jones, you know,
     does intend to travel about a little and said he would come
     to see us; perhaps he will come with you, or Mr. Hibbard I
     should be most happy to see--anyone in short whom you choose
     to bring will be most welcome. Tell Mr. Hibbard I read his
     speech and admired it as I presume everyone does. Good-bye,
     dear Miss Campbell. I hope you will aid me in persuading
     Mrs. Eames to come with you. My warmest regards to Mrs.
     Campbell and your sisters, in which my sister [Mrs. Eugene
     H. Lynch] and Mr. Gouverneur unite.

          Believe me, yours most truly,

               M. D. GOUVERNEUR.

     Needwood, May 22nd, 1854.

I accepted the invitation and, while I was Mrs. Gouverneur's guest, my
sister Margaret was visiting one of the adjoining places at the home of
Colonel John Lee, whose wife's maiden name was Harriet Carroll. She was
a granddaughter of Charles Carroll of Carrollton, and their home was the
former residence of another ancestor, Governor Thomas Sim Lee of
Maryland. During my visit at Needwood I renewed the acquaintance of my
future husband, which I had formed a number of years before at the
wedding of Miss Fanny Monroe and Douglas Robinson, of which I have
previously spoken. It is unnecessary to refer to his appearance, which I
have already described, but I am sure it is not unnatural for me to add
that a year after the conclusion of the Mexican War he was brevetted for
gallantry and meritorious conduct in the battles of Contreras and
Churubusco. While his general bearing spoke well for his military
training, his mind was a storehouse of information which I learned to
appreciate more and more as the years rolled by. But of all his fine
characteristics I valued and revered him most for his fine sense of
honor and sterling integrity. Like his mother, Mr. Gouverneur was
literary in his tastes and occasionally gave vent to his feelings in
verse. In 1852 Oak Hill, the stately old Monroe place in Virginia where
he had spent much of his early life, was about to pass out of the
family. He was naturally much distressed over the sale of the home so
intimately associated with his childhood's memory, and a few days prior
to his final departure wrote the following lines. In after years nothing
could ever induce him to visit Oak Hill.

    FAREWELL TO OAK HILL, 1852, ON DEPARTING THENCE.

    The autumn rains are falling fast,
    Earth, the heavens are overcast;
    The rushing winds mournful sigh,
    Whispering, alas! good-bye;
    To each fond remembrance farewell and forever,
    Oak Hill I depart to return to thee never!

    The mighty oaks beneath whose shade
    In boyhood's happier hours I've played,
    Bend to the mountain blast's wild sweep,
    Scattering spray they seem to weep;
    To each moss-grown tree farewell and forever,
    Oak Hill I depart to return to thee never!

    The little mound now wild o'ergrown,
    On the bosom of which my tears have oft flown,
    Where my mother beside her mother lies sleeping,
    O'er them the rank grass, bright dew drops are weeping;
    To that hallowed spot farewell and forever,
    Oak Hill I depart to return to thee never!

    Oh, home of my boyhood, why must I depart?
    Tears I am shedding and wild throbs my heart;
    Home of my manhood, oh! would I had died
    And lain me to rest by my dead mother's side,
    Ere my tongue could have uttered farewell and forever,
    Oak Hill I depart to return to thee never!

Mr. Gouverneur's pathetic allusion to the graves of his mother and
grandmother affords me an opportunity of saying that in 1903 the
Legislature of Virginia appropriated a sum of money sufficient to
remove the remains of Mrs. Monroe and her daughter, Mrs. Gouverneur,
from Oak Hill. They now rest in Hollywood Cemetery, Richmond, Virginia,
on opposite sides of the grave of James Monroe.

The friendship of Mr. Gouverneur and myself ripened into a deep
affection, and the winter following my visit to Needwood we announced
our engagement. I was warmly welcomed into the Gouverneur family, as
will appear from the following letter:

     I can not longer defer, my dear Marian, expressing the great
     gratification I experienced when Sam informed me of his
     happiness in having gained your heart. It is most agreeable
     to me that you of all the women I know should be the object
     of his choice. How little I anticipated such a result from
     the short visit you made us last summer. Sam is in an
     Elysium of bliss. I have lately had a charming letter from
     him, of course all about his lady love. I think you too have
     every reason to anticipate a life of happiness, not more
     marred than we must all look for in this world. Sam is very
     warm-hearted and affectionate and possesses a fine mind, as
     you know, and when he marries, you will have nothing to wish
     for. These are his own sentiments and I assure you I
     entirely agree with him.

     Mr. Gouverneur is greatly gratified and both wrote and told
     me how nobly you expressed yourself to him.

     I am going to Baltimore to-day to meet Mr. G. and perhaps
     may go to Washington. If I do you will see me soon after I
     arrive there. I feel as if I should like so much to talk to
     my future daughter. I take the warmest interest in
     everything concerning Sam's happiness, and my heart is now
     overflowing with thankfulness to you for having contributed
     so much to it.

     Please remember me in the kindest manner to your mother,
     whose warm hospitality I have not forgotten, and to the
     girls. My sincere congratulations to Margaret who Mary
     [Lee] writes me is as happy as the day is long. Ellen
     desires me to present her congratulations to you and
     Margaret.

          Believe me, very sincerely yours,

               M. D. GOUVERNEUR.

     Needwood, Feb. 14th.

I was married in Washington in the old G Street house, and the occasion
was made especially festive by the presence of many friends from out of
town. We were married by the Rev. Dr. Smith Pyne, rector of St. John's
Episcopal Church, and I recall his nervous state of mind, owing to the
fact that he had forgotten to inquire whether a marriage license had
been procured; but when he was assured that everything was in due form
he was quite himself again. Among those who came from New York to attend
the wedding were General Scott; my father's old friend and associate,
Hugh Maxwell; his daughter, now the wife of Rear Admiral John H. Upshur,
U.S.N.; and Miss Sally Strother and her mother. Miss Emily Harper and
Mrs. Solomon B. Davies, who was Miss Bettie Monroe, my husband's
relative, came from Baltimore and, of course, Mr. and Mrs. Gouverneur
and Miss Mary Lee from Needwood were also present.

My own family circle was small, as my sister, Mrs. Eames, and her young
children were in Venezuela, where her husband was the U.S. Minister; but
I was married in the presence of my mother, my two younger sisters,
Margaret and Charlotte, and my brothers, James and Malcolm. Mr.
Gouverneur's only sister, Elizabeth, who some years before had married
Dr. Henry Lee Heiskell, Assistant Surgeon General of the Army,
accompanied by her husband and son, the late James Monroe Heiskell, of
Baltimore, a handsome and promising youth, were also there. Among the
other guests were Charles Sumner, Caleb Cushing and Stephen A. Douglas,
none of whom at that time were married; Peter Grayson Washington, then
Assistant Secretary of the Treasury, and a relative of my husband; Miss
Katharine Maria Wright, who shortly thereafter married Baron J. C.
Gevers, _Charge d'affaires_ from Holland; her brother, Edward Wright, of
Newark; John G. Floyd of Long Island; James Guthrie, Secretary of the
Treasury, and his two daughters; William L. Marcy, Secretary of State,
and his wife; their daughter, Miss Cornelia Marcy, subsequently Mrs.
Edmund Pendleton; Baron von Grabow and Alexandre Gau of the Prussian
Legation, the latter of whom married my sister, Margaret, the following
year; Mr. and Mrs. William T. Carroll; Lieutenant (subsequently Rear
Admiral) James S. Palmer of the Navy; Jerome E. Kidder of Boston, and
General William J. Hardee, U.S.A.

A few days before my marriage I received the following letter from
Edward Everett:--

     BOSTON, 23 Feb.

     My dear Miss Campbell,

     I had much pleasure in receiving this morning Mrs.
     Campbell's invitation and your kind note of the 20th. I am
     greatly indebted to you for remembering me on an occasion of
     so much interest and importance, and I beg to offer you my
     sincere congratulations.

     Greatly would it rejoice me to be able to avail myself of
     your invitation to be present at your nuptials.

     But the state of my health and of my family makes this
     impossible. But I shall certainly be with you in spirit, and
     with cordial wishes for your happiness.

     Praying my kindest remembrance to your mother and sisters, I
     remain,

          my dear Miss Campbell,

               Sincerely your friend,

                    EDWARD EVERETT.

     P.S. I suppose you saw in the papers a day or two ago that
     poor Miss Russell is gone.

The Miss Russell referred to by Mr. Everett was Miss Ida Russell, one
of three handsome and brilliant sisters prominent in Boston in the
society of the day.

Soon after my marriage my husband and I made a round of visits to his
numerous family connections. It is with more than usual pleasure that I
recall the beautiful old home of Mr. Gouverneur's aunt, Mrs. Thomas
Cadwalader, near Trenton, which a few years later was destroyed by fire.
A guest of the Cadwaladers at the same time with ourselves was my
husband's first cousin, the Rev. Robert Livingston Tillotson of New
York, who studied for the Episcopal ministry and subsequently entered
the Roman Catholic priesthood.

From Trenton, we journeyed to Yonkers, New York, to visit the Van
Cortlandt family at the historic manor-house in that vicinity. It was
then owned and occupied by Mr. Gouverneur's relatives, Dr. Edward N.
Bibby and his son, Augustus, the latter of whom had recently changed his
name from Bibby to Van Cortlandt, as a consideration for the inheritance
of this fine old estate. Dr. Bibby married Miss Augusta White of the Van
Cortlandt descent, and for many years was a prominent physician in New
York City. When I visited the family, he had retired from active
practice and was enjoying a serene old age surrounded by his children
and grandchildren. Henry Warburton Bibby, the Doctor's second son, was
also one of this household at the time of our visit. He never married
but retained his social tastes until his death a few years ago.

In the drawing-room of the Van Cortlandt home stood a superb pair of
brass andirons in the form of lions, which had been presented to Mrs.
Augustus Van Cortlandt by my husband's mother as a bridal present. They
had been brought by James Monroe upon his return from France, where he
had been sent upon his historic diplomatic mission by Washington. The
style of life led by the Van Cortlandt family was fascinating to me as,
even at this late date, they clung to many of the old family customs
inherited from their ancestors. Our next visit was to the cottage of
William Kemble in Cold Spring, and it seemed to me like returning to an
old and familiar haunt. My marriage into the Gouverneur family added
another link in the chain of friendship attaching me to the members of
the Kemble family, as they were relatives of my husband. I was
entertained while there by the whole family connection, and I recall
with especial pleasure the dinner parties at Gouverneur Kemble's and at
Mrs. Robert P. Parrott's. Martin Van Buren was visiting "Uncle Gouv" at
the time, and I was highly gratified to meet him again, as his presence
not only revived memories of childhood's days during my father's
lifetime in New York, but also materially assisted in rendering the
entertainments given in my honor at Cold Spring unusually delightful.
From Cold Spring we drove to The Grange, near Garrison's, another
homestead familiar to me in former days, and the residence of Frederick
Philipse, where I renewed my acquaintance with old friends who now
greeted me as a relative. At this beautiful home I saw a pair of
andirons even handsomer than those at the Van Cortlandt mansion. They
were at least two feet high and represented trumpeters. The historic
house was replete with ancestral furniture and fine old portraits, one
of which was attributed to Vandyke.

The whole Philipse and Gouverneur connection at Garrison's were devoted
Episcopalians and were largely instrumental in building a fine church at
Garrison's, which they named St. Philips. In more recent years a
congregation of prominent families has worshiped in this edifice--among
others, the Fishes, Ardens, Livingstons, Osborns and Sloanes. For many
years the beloved rector of this church was the Rev. Dr. Charles F.
Hoffman, a gentleman of great wealth and much scholarly ability. He and
his brother, the late Rev. Dr. Eugene A. Hoffman, Dean of the General
Theological Seminary in New York, devoted their lives and fortunes to
the cause of religion. Residents of New York are familiar with All
Angels Church, built by the late Rev. Dr. Charles F. Hoffman on West End
Avenue, of which he was rector for a number of years. During his life at
Garrison's, both Dr. and Mrs. Hoffman were very acceptable to my
husband's relatives, especially as the Doctor was connected with the
family by right of descent from a Gouverneur forbear. Charles F. Hoffman
married Miss Eleanor Louisa Vail, a daughter of David M. Vail of New
Brunswick, New Jersey, who in every way proved herself an able helpmeet
to him. Mrs. Hoffman was educated at Miss Hannah Hoyt's school in New
Brunswick, a fashionable institution of the day, and at a reunion of the
scholars held in recent years, she was mentioned in the following
appropriate manner: "Nearly half a century ago, in the well-known Miss
Hoyt's school, was Eleanor Louisa Vail who was noted for her good
lessons and considerate ways towards all. She never overlooked those who
were less fortunate than herself, but gave aid to any who needed it,
either in their lessons or in a more substantial form. In the wider
circle of New York the benevolent Mrs. Hoffman, the wife of the late
generous rector of All Angels Church, but fulfilled the promise made by
the beautiful girl of former days." Mr. and Mrs. Charles F. Hoffman's
daughter, Mrs. J. Van Vechten Olcott, is as beloved in her generation as
her mother was before her.

Samuel Mongan Warburton Gouverneur, a younger brother of Frederick
Philipse, was living at The Grange at the time of my visit. Some years
later he built a handsome house in the neighborhood which he called
"Eagle's Rest," and resided there with his sister, Miss Mary Marston
Gouverneur. After his death, the place was sold to the late Louis
Fitzgerald, who made it his home.

After six months spent in the mountainous regions of Maryland, not far
from Cumberland, on property owned by my husband's family, Mr.
Gouverneur and I returned to Washington and began our married life in my
mother's home. Soon after we had settled down, my eldest daughter was
born. The death of my sister, Mrs. Alexandre Gau, from typhoid fever
soon followed. It was naturally a terrible shock to us all and
especially to me, as we were near of an age and our lives had been side
by side from infancy. My mother, in her great affliction, broke up her
home and Mr. Gouverneur and I rented a house on Twelfth Street, near N
Street, a locality then regarded as quite suburban. Here I endeavored to
live in the closest retirement, as the meeting with friends of former
days only served to bring my sorrow more keenly before me.

Meanwhile my whole life was devoted to the little girl whom we had named
Maud Campbell, and who, of course, had become "part and parcel" of my
quiet life. Mr. Gouverneur was the last surviving member of his family
in the male line, and the whole family connection was looking to me to
perpetuate his name. Soon after the birth of my daughter my husband
received the following characteristic letter from Mr. Gouverneur's aunt,
Mrs. David Johnstone Verplanck, who before her marriage was Louisa A.
Gouverneur, a gifted woman whose home was in New York:

     THURSDAY, April 10th.

     My dear Sam,

     In return for your kind recollections I hasten to offer my
     most sincere congratulations to yourself and Mrs. G. As
     husband and father you have now realized all the romance of
     life, the pleasures of which I have little doubt you already
     begin to feel deeply intermingled with many anxious hours.
     It is wisest and best to enjoy all that good fortune sends
     and fortify ourselves to meet and endure the trials to which
     our Destiny has allotted.

     Tell Mrs. G. that we must send for the girdle the old woman
     sent the Empress Eugenie. She had a succession of seven
     sons, and requested her to wear it for luck. As it was very
     dirty the royal lady sent it back. It might be procured and
     undergo the purifying influence of water. All I can say at
     present to console your disappointment I hope a son will
     soon consummate all your joys and wishes. You know it rests
     with you to keep the name of Gouverneur in the land of the
     living. It is nearly extinct and you its only salvation.

     I regret to hear your father is unwell at Barnum's [Hotel,
     Baltimore]. I hope he will soon be with us. I long to see
     him.

          Believe me always your friend,

               LOUISA VERPLANCK.

I also append a letter received by Mr. Gouverneur from Mrs. William
Kemble (Margaret Chatham Seth), which recalled many tender associations.

     NEW YORK 11th April.

     I need not tell you, my dear friend, how much we were all
     gratified by your kind remembrance of us, in the midst of
     your own anxiety and joy, to give us the first news of our
     dear Marian's safety. Give my very best love to her and a
     kiss to Miss Gouverneur with whom I hope to be better
     acquainted hereafter.

     Mr. and Mrs. Nourse with our dear little Charlie left us
     yesterday for Washington. You will probably see them before
     you receive this. I feel assured that Marian is blessed in
     being with her mother who has every experience necessary for
     her. Therefore it is idle for me to give my advice but I
     must say, keep her quiet, not to be too smart or anxious to
     show her baby--at first--and she will be better able to do
     it afterwards. May God bless you all three and that this
     dear pledge committed to your charge be to you both every
     comfort and joy that your anxious hearts can wish. Please to
     give my best regards and wishes to Mrs. Campbell and her
     daughter from

          your sincerely attached friend and cousin,

               M. C. KEMBLE.

On the corner of Fourteenth and P Streets, and not far from our home,
was the residence of Eliab Kingman, an intimate friend of Mr.
Gouverneur's father. This locality, now such a business center, was
decidedly rural, and Mr. Kingman's quaint and old-fashioned house was in
the middle of a small farm. It was an oddly constructed dwelling and the
interior was made unusually attractive by its wealth of curios, among
which was a large collection of Indian relics. After his death I
attended an auction held in the old home and I remember that these
curiosities were purchased by Ben Perley Poore, the well-known
journalist. Although many years his senior, my husband found Mr. Kingman
and his home a source of great pleasure to him, and he formed an
attachment for his father's early friend which lasted through life. The
Kingman house was the rendezvous of both literary and political circles.
William H. Seward was one of its frequent visitors and I once heard him
wittily remark that it might appropriately be worshiped, as it resembled
nothing "that is in the Heaven above, or in the earth beneath, or the
water under the earth." For a number of years Mr. Kingman was a
correspondent of _The Baltimore Sun_ under the _nom de plume_ of "Ion."
His communications were entirely confined to political topics and he was
such a skilled diplomatist that the adherents of either party, after
perusing them, might easily recognize him as their own advocate. Thomas
Seaton Donoho, of whom I shall speak presently, was a warm friend of Mr.
Kingman and the constant recipient of his hospitality. Among his poems
is a graceful sonnet entitled

    E. KINGMAN.

    Ever will I remember with delight
      Strawberry Knoll; not for the berries red,
      As, ere my time, the vines were out of bed,
    And gone; but many a day and many a night
    Have given me argument to love it well,
      Whether in Summer, 'neath its perfumed shade,
      Whether by moonlight's magic wand arrayed,
    Or when in Winter's lap the rose leaves fell,
    For pleasant faces ever there were found,
      For genial welcome ever met me there,
    And thou, my friend, when thought went smiling round,
      Madest her calm look, reflecting thine, more fair.
    Those who have known thee as a Statesman, know
    Thy noon-day: I have felt thy great heart's sunset glow!

Mr. Kingman married Miss Cordelia Ewell of Virginia, a relative of
General Richard S. Ewell of the Confederate Army. She was in some
respects a remarkable character, a "dyed-in-the-wool" Southerner and a
woman of unusual personal charm and ability. In dress, manner and
general appearance she presented a fitting reminder of the _grande dame_
of long ago. Her style of dress reminded one of the Quaker school. Her
gray gown with a white kerchief crossed neatly upon her breast and her
gray hair with puffs clustered around her ears, together with her quaint
manner of courtesying as she greeted her guests, suggested the familiar
setting of an old-fashioned picture. She was an accomplished performer
upon the harp as well as an authority upon old English literature. In
all the years I knew her I never heard of her leaving her house. She had
no children and her constant companion was a venerable parrot.

John Savage, familiarly known as "Jack" Savage, was an intimate friend
of the Kingmans and also a frequent guest of ours. He was an Irish
patriot of 1848 and was remarkable for his versatility. He had a fine
voice, and I remember seeing him on one occasion hold his audience
spell-bound while singing "The Temptation of St. Anthony." He was an
accomplished journalist and the author of several books, one of which,
"The Modern Revolutionary History and Literature of Ireland," has been
pronounced the best work extant "on the last great revolutionary era of
the Irish race."

After the Civil War I often met at Mr. Kingman's house General Benjamin
F. Butler, whose withering gift of sarcasm is still remembered. Simon
Cameron, Lincoln's first Secretary of War, was also a frequent visitor
there. He was an unusually genial and cordial gentleman, and some years
later Mr. Kingman and my husband, upon his urgent invitation, visited
him at his handsome country place, Lochiel, in Pennsylvania. His fine
graperies made such a vivid impression upon my husband that his
description of them almost enabled me to see the luscious fruit itself
before me.

My old friends, Purser Horatio Bridge, U.S.N., and his wife, lived on
the corner of K and Fourteenth Streets at a hotel then known as the
Rugby House. Mrs. Bridge was a sister of the famous beauty, Miss Emily
Marshall, who married Harrison Gray Otis of Boston. Mr. Bridge, while on
the active list, had been stationed for a time in Washington and,
finding the life congenial and attractive, returned here after his
retirement and with his wife made his home at the Rugby House. While
there the hotel was offered for sale and was bought by Mr. Bridge, who
enlarged it and changed its name to The Hamilton, in compliment to Mrs.
Hamilton Holly, an intimate friend of Mrs. Bridge and the daughter of
Alexander Hamilton. Mrs. Holly, my old and cherished friend, lived in a
picturesque cottage on I Street, on the site of the present Russian
embassy, where so many years later the wife and daughter of Benjamin F.
Tracy, Harrison's Secretary of the Navy, lost their lives in a fire that
destroyed the house. Among the attractions of this home was a remarkable
collection of Hamilton relics which subsequent to Mrs. Holly's death was
sold at public auction. The sale, however, did not attract any
particular attention, as the craze for antiques had not yet developed
and the souvenir fiend was then unknown.

It was while I was living on Twelfth Street that I first met Miss
Margaret Edes, so well known in after years to Washingtonians. She was
visiting her relatives, the Donoho family, which lived in my immediate
vicinity. Her host's father was connected with _The National
Intelligencer_, and the son, Thomas Seaton Donoho, was named after
William Winston Seaton, one of its editors. Thomas Seaton Donoho was a
truly interesting character. He was decidedly romantic in his ideas and
many incidents of his life were curiously associated with the ivy vine.
He planted a sprig of it in front of his three-story house, which was
built very much upon the plan of every other dwelling in the
neighborhood, and called his abode "Ivy Hall"; while his property in the
vicinity of Washington he named "Ivy City," a locality so well known
to-day by the same name to the sporting fraternity. His book of poems,
published in Washington in 1860, is entitled "Ivy-wall"; and, to cap the
climax, when a girl was born into the Donoho family she was baptized in
mid-ocean as "Atlantic May Ivy." In addition to his poems, he published,
in 1850, a drama in three acts, entitled, "Goldsmith of Padua," and two
years later "Oliver Cromwell," a tragedy in five acts.

Soon after my marriage, Mr. Gouverneur acted as one of the pallbearers
at the funeral of his early friend, Gales Seaton, the son of William
Winston Seaton, and a most accomplished man of affairs. In those days
honorary pallbearers were unknown and the coffin was borne to the grave
by those with whom the deceased had been most intimately associated. The
Seatons owned a family vault, and the body was carried down into it by
Mr. Seaton's old friends. After the funeral I heard Mr. Gouverneur speak
of observing a coffin which held the remains of Mrs. Francis Schroeder,
who was Miss Caroline Seaton, and whose husband, the father of Rear
Admiral Seaton Schroeder, U.S.N., was at one time U.S. Minister to
Sweden and Norway. Seaton Munroe, a nephew of Gales Seaton, was
prominent in Washington society. He never married and many persons
regarded him as the Ward McAllister of the Capital. When Colonel Sanford
C. Kellogg, U.S.A., then military _attache_ of the U.S. Embassy in
Paris, heard of Munroe's death, he wrote to a mutual friend: "I do not
believe the man lives who has done more for the happiness and welfare of
others than Seaton Munroe." He was one of the prominent founders of the
Metropolitan Club, which commenced its career in the old Morris house on
the corner of Vermont Avenue and H Street; and later, when it moved to
the Graham residence on the corner of Fifteenth and H Streets, he
continued to be one of its most popular and influential members.

In April, 1858, occurred the famous Gwin ball, so readily recalled by
old Washingtonians. It was a fancy-dress affair, and it was the
intention of Senator and Mrs. William McKendree Gwin of California that
it should be the most brilliant of its kind that the National Capital
had ever known. Of course Mr. Gouverneur and I did not attend, owing to
my deep mourning, but I shall always remember the pleasure and amusement
we derived in dressing Mr. Kingman for the occasion. We decked him out
in the old court dress which Mr. Gouverneur's grandfather, James Monroe,
wore during his diplomatic mission in France. As luck would have it the
suit fitted him perfectly, and the next day it was quite as gratifying
to us as to Mr. Kingman to hear that the costume attracted marked
attention.

The ball was rightly adjudged a brilliant success. Among the guests was
President Buchanan, though not, of course, in fancy dress. Senator Gwin
represented Louis Quatorze; Ben Perley Poore, "Major Jack Downing"; Lord
Napier, George Hammond--the first British Minister to the United States;
Mrs. Stephen A. Douglas, Aurora; Mrs. Jefferson Davis, Madame de Stael;
and so on down the list. It is probable that the wife of Senator
Clement C. Clay, of Alabama, who represented Mrs. Partington, attracted
more attention and afforded more amusement than any other guest.
Washington had fairly teemed with her brilliant repartee and other
bright sayings, and upon this occasion she was, if possible, more than
ever in her element. She had a witty encounter with the President and a
familiar home-thrust for all whom she encountered. Many of the public
characters present, when lashed by her sparkling humor, were either
unable or unwilling to respond. She was accompanied by "Ike," Mrs.
Partington's son, impersonated by a clever youth of ten years, son of
John M. Sandidge of Louisiana. Mr. John Von Sonntag Haviland, formerly
of the U.S. Army, wrote a metrical description of this ball, and in
referring to Mrs. Clay, thus expresses himself:--

    Mark how the grace that gilds an honored name,
    Gives a strange zest to that loquacious dame
    Whose ready tongue and easy blundering wit
    Provoke fresh uproar at each happy hit!
    Note how her humour into strange grimace
    Tempts the smooth meekness of yon Quaker's face.

           *       *       *       *       *

    But--denser grows the crowd round Partington;
    'Twere vain to try to name them one by one.

Mr. Haviland added this to the above:--"Mrs. Senator Clay, with knitting
in hand, snuff-box in pocket, and 'Ike, the Inevitable,' by her side,
acted out her difficult character so as to win the unanimous verdict
that her personation of the loquacious _mal-aprops_ dame was the leading
feature of the evening's entertainment. Go where she would through the
spacious halls, a crowd of eager listeners followed her footsteps,
drinking in her instant repartees, which were really superior in wit and
appositeness, and, indeed, in the vein of the famous dame's _cacoethes_,
even to the original contribution of Shillaber to the nonsensical
literature of the day."

One of the guests at this ball was the wife of the late Major General
William H. Emery, U.S.A., whose maiden name was Matilda Bache. She was
arrayed for the evening in the garb of a Quakeress, and it is to her
that Mr. Haviland alludes in his reference to the "smooth meekness of
yon Quaker's face."

At the commencement of the Civil War, Senator Gwin was arrested on a
charge of disloyalty and imprisoned until 1863. He then went to Paris,
where he became interested in a scheme for the colonization by
Southerners of the State of Sonora in Mexico, in consequence of which he
was sometimes facetiously called the "Duke of Sonora." While thus
engaged, he was invited to meet the Emperor, Napoleon III., in private
audience, and succeeded in enlisting his sympathies. It is said that,
upon the request of the Minister of Foreign Affairs, he formulated a
plan for the colony which, after receiving the Emperor's approval, was
submitted to Maximilian. The latter was then in Paris and requested Mr.
Gwin's attendance at the Tuileries where, after diligent inquiry, the
scheme received the approbation of Maximilian. Two weeks after the
departure of the latter for Mexico, Mr. Gwin left for the same country,
carrying with him an autograph letter of Napoleon III. to Marshal
Bazaine. The scheme, however, received no encouragement from the latter,
and Maximilian failed to give him any satisfactory assurances of his
support. Returning to France in 1865, he secured an audience with the
Emperor, to whom he exposed the condition of affairs in Mexico. Napoleon
urged him to return to that country immediately with a peremptory order
to Marshal Bazaine to supply a military force adequate to accomplish the
project. This request was complied with but Mr. Gwin, after meeting with
no success, demanded an escort to accompany him out of the country. This
was promptly furnished, and he returned to his home in California.

It seems fitting in this connection to speak of a brilliant ball in
Washington in 1824. Although, of course, I do not remember it, I have
heard of it all my life and have gathered here and there certain facts
of interest concerning it, some of which are not easily accessible. I
refer to the ball given by Mrs. John Quincy Adams, whose husband was
then Secretary of State under Monroe. Mrs. Adams' maiden name was Louisa
Catharine Johnson and she was a daughter of Joshua Johnson, who served
as our first United States Consul at London, and a niece of Thomas
Johnson of Maryland. She gave receptions in Washington on Tuesday
evenings which were attended by many of the most distinguished men and
women of the day. This period, in fact, is generally regarded as,
perhaps, the most brilliant era in Washington society. A generous
hospitality was dispensed by such men as Madison, Monroe, Adams,
Calhoun, Wirt, Rush, Southard, General Winfield Scott and General
Alexander Macomb. The British _Charge d'affaires_ at this time was Henry
Unwin Addington. The Russian Minister was the Baron de Tuyll; while
France, Spain and Portugal were represented by gentlemen of
distinguished manners and rare accomplishments. The illustrious John
Marshall was Chief Justice, with Joseph Story, Bushrod Washington, Smith
Thompson and other eminent jurists by his side. In Congress were such
men as Henry Clay, William Gaston, Rufus King, Daniel Webster, Andrew
Jackson, Thomas H. Benton, William Jones Lowndes, John Jordan Crittenden
and Harrison Gray Otis; while the Navy was represented by Stephen
Decatur, David Porter, John Rodgers, Lewis Warrington, Charles Stewart,
Charles Morris and others, some of whom made their permanent home at the
Capital.

The ball given by the Secretary of State and Mrs. Adams was in honor of
General Andrew Jackson, and was not only an expression of the pleasant
personal relations existing between John Quincy Adams and Jackson only
shortly before the former defeated the latter for the Presidency, but
also a pleasing picture of Washington society at that time. General
Jackson was naturally the hero of the occasion, and there was a throng
of guests not only from Washington but also from Baltimore, Richmond and
other cities. A current newspaper of the day published a metrical
description of the event, written by John T. Agg:

    MRS. ADAMS' BALL.

    Wend you with the world to-night?
      Brown and fair and wise and witty,
    Eyes that float in seas of light,
      Laughing mouths and dimples pretty,
    Belles and matrons, maids and madams,
    All are gone to Mrs. Adams';
    There the mist of the future, the gloom of the past,
      All melt into light at the warm glance of pleasure,
    And the only regret is lest melting too fast,
      Mammas should move off in the midst of a measure.

    Wend you with the world to-night?
      Sixty gray, and giddy twenty,
    Flirts that court and prudes that slight,
      State coquettes and spinsters plenty;
    Mrs. Sullivan is there
      With all the charm that nature lent her;
    Gay McKim with city air,
      And winning Gales and Vandeventer;
    Forsyth, with her group of graces;
      Both the Crowninshields in blue;
    The Pierces, with their heavenly faces,
      And eyes like suns that dazzle through;
    Belles and matrons, maids and madams,
    All are gone to Mrs. Adams'!

    Wend you with the world to-night?
      East and West and South and North,
    Form a constellation bright,
      And pour a splendid brilliance forth.
    See the tide of fashion flowing,
      'Tis the noon of beauty's reign,
    Webster, Hamiltons are going,
      Eastern Floyd and Southern Hayne;
    Western Thomas, gayly smiling,
      Borland, nature's protege,
    Young De Wolfe, all hearts beguiling,
      Morgan, Benton, Brown and Lee;
    Belles and matrons, maids and madams,'
    All are gone to Mrs. Adams'!

    Wend you with the world to-night?
      Where blue eyes are brightly glancing,
    While to measures of delight
      Fairy feet are deftly dancing;
    Where the young Euphrosyne
      Reigns the mistress of the scene,
    Chasing gloom, and courting glee,
      With the merry tambourine;
    Many a form of fairy birth,
      Many a Hebe, yet unwon,
    Wirt, a gem of purest worth,
      Lively, laughing Pleasanton;
    Vails and Tayloe will be there,
    Gay Monroe so debonair,
    Hellen, pleasure's harbinger,
    Ramsay, Cottringers and Kerr;
    Belles and matrons, maids and madams,
    All are gone to Mrs. Adams'!

    Wend you with the world to-night?
      Juno in her court presides,
    Mirth and melody invite,
      Fashion points, and pleasure guides;
    Haste away then, seize the hour,
    Shun the thorn and pluck the flower.
    Youth, in all its spring-time blooming,
    Age the guise of youth assuming,
    Wit through all its circles gleaming,
    Glittering wealth and beauty beaming;
    Belles and matrons, maids and madams,
    All are gone to Mrs. Adams'!

The "Mrs. Sullivan" referred to was Sarah Bowdoin Winthrop, the wife of
George Sullivan of Boston, son of Governor James Sullivan of
Massachusetts; while "Winning Gales" was the wife of Joseph Gales,
editor of _The National Intelligencer_. "Forsyth" was the wife of
Senator John Forsyth of Georgia, who subsequently served as Secretary of
State during Jackson's administration; and "the Crowninshields in blue"
were daughters of Benjamin W. Crowninshield, Secretary of the Navy under
Madison and Monroe. "The Pierces, with their heavenly faces," were
handsome Boston women who in after life became converts to the Roman
Catholic faith and entered convents. The "Vails" were Eugene and Aaron
Vail, who were proteges of Senator William H. Crawford, of Georgia. They
married sisters, daughters of Laurent Salles, a wealthy Frenchman living
in New York. Aaron Vail accompanied Martin Van Buren to England as
Secretary of Legation and for a season, after Van Buren's recall, acted
as _Charge d'affaires_. "Tayloe" was Benjamin Ogle Tayloe, the
distinguished Washingtonian. "Ramsay" was General George Douglas Ramsay,
the father of Rear Admiral Francis M. Ramsay, U.S.N.; and "Hellen" was
Mrs. Adams's niece, who subsequently became her daughter-in-law through
her marriage to her son, John Adams. President Monroe attended this ball
and both he and John Quincy Adams were somewhat criticised for their
plain attire, which was in such striking contrast with the elaborate
costumes and decorations worn by the foreign guests.

In his boyhood Mr. Gouverneur formed an intimacy with George H. Derby,
better known in literary circles under the _nom de plume_ of "John
Phoenix." He is well remembered by students of American humor as a
contemporary and rival of Artemus Ward. He was a member of a prominent
Boston family, and of the class of 1846 at West Point. He was a gallant
soldier, having been wounded during the Mexican War at Cerro Gordo, and
was promoted for his bravery in that battle. Scarcely anyone was immune
from his practical jokes, but, fortunately for his peace of mind, Mr.
Gouverneur was acquainted with an incident of his life which, if known,
would make him a butt of ridicule; and he accordingly felt perfectly
safe in his companionship and well enjoyed his humorous exploits. One
day Derby and Mr. Gouverneur were sauntering through the streets of
Washington when the keen eye of the humorist was attracted by a sign
over a store door which read, "Ladies' Depository"--the old-fashioned
method of designating what would now be called a "Woman's Exchange."
Turning to his companion, Derby remarked: "I have a little business to
transact in this shop and I want you to go inside with me." They entered
and were met by a smiling female to whom Derby remarked: "My wife will
be here to-morrow morning. I am so pleased to have discovered this
depository. I hope that you will take good care of her. Expect her at
eleven. Good-morning."

In the early '50's Adjutant General Roger Jones determined to adopt a
new uniform for the U.S. Army, and Derby was thus afforded a conspicuous
opportunity to exercise his wit. He was an excellent draughtsman and set
to work and produced a design. He proposed changing the entire system of
modern tactics by the aid of an iron hook to be attached to the seat of
each soldier's trousers, this hook to be used by the three arms of the
service--cavalry, infantry and artillery. He illustrated it by a series
of well-executed designs, and quoted high medical authority to prove its
advantages from a sanitary point of view. He argued that the heavy
knapsack induced a stooping position and a contraction of the chest but,
hung on a hook by a strap over the shoulders, it would brace the body
and back and expand the chest. The cavalrymen were to be rendered more
secure in their seats when hooked to a ring in the saddle. All
commissioned officers were to carry a light twenty-foot pole, with a
ring attached to the end, to be used during an engagement in drawing
stragglers back into the ranks. He made a drawing of a tremendous battle
during which the Generals and Colonels were thus occupied, and in many
other ways expatiated upon the value of the hook. When Jefferson Davis,
the Secretary of War, saw Derby's designs and read his recommendations,
he felt that his dignity was wounded and the service insulted, and he
immediately issued an order that Derby be court-martialed. William L.
Marcy, then Secretary of State, was told of the transaction and of the
cloud hanging over Derby. He looked over the drawings and saw a
regiment, their backs towards him and drawn up in line, with knapsacks,
blankets and everything appertaining to camp life attached to each
soldier by a hook. Marcy, who saw the humorous side at once, said to
Davis: "It's no use to court-martial this man. The matter will be made
public and the laugh will be upon us. Besides, a man who has the
inventive genius that he has displayed, as well as the faculty of
design, ill-directed though they be, is too valuable to the service to
be trifled with." Derby therefore was not brought to grief, and in time
Davis's anger was sufficiently mollified for him to enjoy the joke. I am
enabled to state, through the courtesy of the present Assistant
Secretary of War, that the drawings referred to are not now to be found
in the files of the War Department; and a picture, which at the time was
the source of untold amusement and of wide-spread notoriety, seems to be
lost to the world.

[Illustration: MINIATURE OF JAMES MONROE, PAINTED IN PARIS IN 1794, BY
SEME.

_Original owned by Mrs. Gouverneur._]

An incident connected with the Indian War of 1856-58, in Washington
Territory, furnished another outlet for Derby's effective wit. A
Catholic priest was taken prisoner by the savages at that time and led
away into captivity, and in caricaturing the scene Derby represented an
ecclesiastic in full canonicals walking between two stalwart and
half-naked Indians, carrying a crook and crozier, with a tooth-brush
attached to one and a comb to the other; while the letters "I. H. S." on
the priest's chasuble were paraphrased into the words, "I hate
Siwashes." It must not be thought, however, that Derby's life was wholly
devoted to fun and frivolity, for he has been pronounced by an
accomplished military writer and critic to have been "an able and
accomplished engineer." He was the author of "The Squibob Papers" and of
"Phoenixiana; or Sketches and Burlesques," either of which would
worthily place him in the forefront of humorists in the history of
American literature. I own a copy of the latter book which was given by
the author to my husband. It seems strange, when one considers the
character and career of this gifted man, that subsequent to his death
nearly every member of his family should have met with a tragic end.

Although not a practical joker, my husband found much in Derby that was
congenial, as many of their tastes were similar. Both of them were
devoted to literature and both were accomplished writers; but while
Derby published his works and was rewarded with financial success, Mr.
Gouverneur wrote chiefly for the newspaper press. He edited and
published a work by James Monroe, entitled "The People the Sovereigns,"
but never sent to the press any works of his own production. I think
that the lack of encouragement from me was the chief obstacle that
deterred him from embarking upon a literary career. He commenced several
novels but never finished them, and his chief literary remains are
principally confined to the limits of his "commonplace-books."

President Buchanan's niece, Harriet Lane, subsequently Mrs. Henry
Elliott Johnston of Maryland, presided with grace and dignity over the
White House during her uncle's administration. I first met Miss Lane
before the period when Buchanan represented the United States at the
Court of St. James. It was at a party given by Mrs. Hamilton Fish,
whose husband was then a U.S. Senator from the State of New York. Her
blond type of beauty made an indelible impression upon me, as she was
very much the same style as the daughters of General Winfield Scott.
Some years before her death, while she was living in Washington, I
incidentally referred to this resemblance between the Scotts and herself
and was not surprised to hear her say that others had spoken of it. To
an exceptionally fine presence, she added unusual intelligence and
brilliant power of repartee. I have often heard the story that at a
social function at the White House an accomplished courtier was
enlarging to Miss Lane upon her shapely hands--"hands," he ejaculated,
"that might have swayed the rod of empire." Her retort came without a
moment's hesitation, "or wake to ecstasy the living lyre." Emily
Schomberg, who married Hughes Hallett of England, wrote some years ago a
charming sketch of Harriet Lane Johnston which was published in Mrs.
Elizabeth F. Ellet's book entitled, "The Court Circles of the Republic."

Among the prominent belles of the Buchanan administration, and an
intimate friend and companion of Harriet Lane, was Rebecca B. Black,
daughter of the eminent jurist, Judge Jeremiah S. Black of Pennsylvania,
Attorney-General and for a time Secretary of State under Buchanan. She
was the widow of Isham Hornsby of Washington, where, in her beautiful
home, she was surrounded by a charming circle and was much admired and
beloved. Peter Grayson Washington, a son of Lund Washington, whom I have
already mentioned in connection with my wedding, was a conspicuous
figure at the National Capital during the Buchanan _regime_. During the
Pierce administration he was Assistant Secretary of the Treasury under
James Guthrie. He had an impressive bearing, and carried a gold-headed
cane which he boasted had originally belonged to his distinguished
relative, the first President. Although by birth a Virginian, Mr.
Washington never wavered in his loyalty to the Union. During the latter
part of the Civil War he made a visit to us in our Maryland home, and I
shall always remember the expression of his opinion that many leaders of
the Confederate cause were not true representatives of the South, citing
as examples some members of Jefferson Davis's cabinet. He concluded his
remarks with the facetious statement that "if they had only chosen a
second Washington as a leader they might have been successful." Earlier
residents of the District will recall Littleton Quinton Washington, a
prolific writer chiefly upon political subjects, and a younger
half-brother of Peter G. Washington.

My old and valued friend, Mrs. Hamilton Holly, and Peter Grayson
Washington were the Godparents of my eldest daughter. At the earnest
request of the former, this ceremony took place in the house of Mrs.
Alexander Hamilton, in the De Menou buildings. Mrs. Holly and I
characterized the gathering as a revolutionary party, as so many of the
guests bore names prominent during our struggle for independence. I
never saw Mrs. Hamilton Holly again. Shortly after this pleasant
function I sailed for China, and just before starting on my long voyage
I received the following note, which saddened me more than I can well
express:--

     SEP. 9th.

     My dear friend,

     For many days I have been blessed by your very kind letter,
     but am too, too low to answer it. One day so weak as to be
     obliged with my hand to wave Mrs. Furguson away (another
     lady obtained admittance), lest in the effort to converse I
     might find another home. My hand and head are exhausted.

          Most truly yours,

               E. H. HOLLY.




CHAPTER XII

SOJOURN IN CHINA AND RETURN


Prior to the Civil War, Mr. Gouverneur received an appointment from
James Buchanan as U.S. Consul to Foo Chow in China, and I decided to
accompany him upon his long journey. Meanwhile a second daughter had
been added to our family, much to the disappointment of the large circle
of relatives who were still anxiously expecting me to hand down the name
of Gouverneur. We named her Ruth Monroe. We took passage upon the
clipper ship _Indiaman_, a vessel of heavy tonnage sailing from New York
and commanded by a "down-east" skipper named Smith. No railroads crossed
the American continent in those days, and the voyage to the far East had
to be made either around Cape Horn or by way of the Isthmus of Panama or
around the Cape of Good Hope. We selected the latter route, leaving New
York in October and arriving in Shanghai the following March. My
preparations for such a protracted journey with two very young children
were carefully and even elaborately planned but, to my dismay, some of
the most important articles of food for the childrens' diet became unfit
for use long before we reached our destination. As one may readily
imagine, I was accordingly put to my wits' end for substitutes. We also
provided ourselves with a goodly amount of literature, and more
particularly books relating to China, among which were Father Evariste
Regis Huc's volume on "The Chinese Empire," and Professor S. Wells
Williams's work on "The Middle Kingdom." We read these _en route_ with
great interest but discovered after a few months' residence in the East
that no book or pen we then knew conveyed an adequate idea of that
remarkable country.

We had a very favorable voyage, and sailing in the trade winds in the
Southern hemisphere was to me the very acme of bliss. I was thoroughly
in sympathy with the passage of Humboldt where he speaks of the tropical
skies and vegetation in the following beautiful manner:--"He on whom the
Southern Cross has never gleamed nor the Centaur frowned, above whom the
clouds of Magellan have never circled, who has never stood within the
shadow of great palms, nor clothed himself with the gloom of the
primeval forests, does not know how the soul seems to have a new birth
in the midst of these new and splendid surroundings. Nowhere but under
the equatorial skies is it permitted to man to behold at once and in the
same sweep of the eye all the stars of both the Northern and Southern
heavens; and nowhere but at the tropics does nature combine to produce
the various forms of vegetation that are parceled out separately to
other climes."

The patience of our captain was sorely tried by the lack of wind while
passing through the Doldrums. This nautical locality, varying in breadth
from sixty to several hundred miles and shifting in extreme limits at
different seasons of the year, is near the equator and abounds in calms,
squalls and light, baffling winds which sometimes prevent the progress
of sailing vessels for weeks at a time. When we finally emerged from the
Doldrums, we were compensated for the trying delay by greeting the trade
winds so cherished by the hearts of mariners. We sailed many leagues
south of the Cape of Good Hope and much too far away even to catch a
glimpse of it, but we realized its proximity by the presence of the Cape
pigeons which hovered around our vessel. The albatross was also our
daily visitor and one or two of them were caught by the sailors,
regardless of the superstition of possible calamity attending such an
act. Our only stop during the long voyage was at the Moluccas or Spice
Islands, in the Malay Peninsula, and was made at the request of the
passengers who were desirous of exploring the beauties of that tropical
region. The waters surrounding these islands were as calm as a lake and
all around our ship floated the debris of spices. The vegetation was
more beautiful than I can describe and the shells which covered the
shores were eagerly collected by the passengers.

Our fellow voyagers were four missionaries, who on Sundays conducted
divine service, and a Mr. Pemberton, a young Canadian who was _en
voyage_ to join the _Hong_ of Purden and Company in Shanghai. In these
early days it was the custom of parents of refractory or adventurous
sons to place them on board sailing vessels for lengthy outings.
Occasionally they were sent upon whaling voyages, where the hardships
were greater and the voyage more prolonged. On the _Indiaman_ there were
several of these youths and it was quite pathetic as well as comical to
see them ascend the rigging amid the jeers of a well-disciplined crew.
One of them, whose father had occupied an official position in the City
of New York, had been quite a society "swell" and claimed acquaintance
with me. At times he was required by the captain to hold my younger
child, a mere babe, in the arms. Every now and then we were startled by
her shrieks and for quite a time we could not detect the cause until we
finally discovered that his task was uncongenial and that, in order to
get rid of his charge, the incorrigible youth had administered an
occasional pinch.

One Sunday afternoon while sailing in the Indian Ocean we had a narrow
escape from shipwreck. Every sail was set to catch the least breath of
air, and Mr. Gouverneur and the children were on deck with the captain,
when in the distance they saw what seemed to resemble a huge wall. The
moment the experienced eye of our skipper saw it he exclaimed, "My God,
we are gone!" It slowly but surely approached our ship and when it
reached us its force was so great that our sails almost dipped into the
ocean. The ship, however, gradually righted itself and we were naturally
more than grateful for our deliverance. I chanced to be resting in my
cabin at the perilous moment and in a most unceremonious manner was
thrown to the floor. After reaching the mouth of that stupendous river,
the Yangtze Kiang, we thought our long voyage was nearly ended, but we
soon discovered that we had not yet "crossed the Rubicon," and that
trouble was still in store for us. We had just passed the mouth of this
river and cast anchor when, to our surprise and dismay, we encountered a
severe storm, and during the night dragged anchor for about twenty
miles. The morning, however, dawned bright and clear, but our captain,
who had lost his temper during the storm, did not accord the Chinese
pilots who boarded us a very gracious reception. This was my first
glimpse of the Chinese within the limits of their own domain.

When we reached the city of Shanghai it was quite dark, but we found
coolies awaiting us with chairs. I shall never forget my first
impressions of China. All of my anticipations of the beautiful Orient
were fully realized, and, as I was carried through the crowded streets,
visions of the Arabian Nights enchanted me and it seemed to me a
veritable region of delight. The streets of Shanghai, however, after the
broad thoroughfares of Washington, appeared like small and complicated
pathways. They were not lighted with public lamps at this time, but
myriads of lanterns of every conceivable shape and color carried by
wayfarers met the eye at every turn and made the whole scene appear like
fairyland. But, alas, the following morning I was undeceived, for
daylight revealed to my vision a very squalid and dirty city. We were
carried to the largest hotel in Shanghai, where it seemed as though I
were almost receiving a home greeting when the sign over the door told
me that it was the Astor House! Still another surprise awaited me.
Although in a strange land, one of the first persons to welcome me was a
former acquaintance, the wife of Mr. Robert Morrison Olyphant, the head
of the prominent _Hong_ of Olyphant and Company. Her maiden name was
Anna O. Vernon and I had formerly known her quite well in New York and
Newport.

We did not linger long in Shanghai, but embraced the first opportunity
to reach Foo Chow. It was a coast voyage of several days and was
attended with much discomfort, as the choppy seas through which we
sailed made all of us very ill--a remarkable experience, considering the
fact that during the whole of our protracted voyage we had not suffered
an uncomfortable moment. We reached Foo Chow, however, in due time, and
Mr. Gouverneur at once assumed his official duties. Foo Chow is called
by the natives _Hok Chiu_, or "Happy City." It is also what is termed a
"Foo-City," signifying a place of the largest magnitude, and was the
sole Chinese port where royalty was represented. It is situated upon the
Min River, about twenty-five miles from its mouth, and is the capital of
the Province of Fokien. The navigation of the river Min was regarded as
dangerous, and the insurance rates for vessels navigating it were higher
than those of any other Chinese port. The place is surrounded by
castellated walls nine or ten miles in circumference, outside of which
are suburbs as extensive as the city itself. Its walls are about thirty
feet high and twelve wide at the top. Its seven gates are overlooked by
high towers, while small guardhouses stand at frequent intervals along
the walls.

Upon our arrival in Foo Chow we found no house provided for the U.S.
Consul, and immediately made our residence with a missionary family,
where we were most comfortable, until the _Hong_ of Augustus Heard and
Company provided us with a residence for which we paid rent. The English
government took better care of its representative. Not far from us was
the British Consulate, a fine building reminding one in certain respects
of the White House. In another residence near by, and provided by his
government, lived the British interpreter, a Scotchman named Milne.
Walter H. Medhurst, the British Consul, and his interpreter were
descendants of early English missionaries. We found Foo Chow to be a
somewhat lawless city. Many of its inhabitants were mountaineers from
the surrounding region who had become pretty well starved out and had
found their way into the city. As a result of their early training, they
gave the authorities much trouble.

I was naturally much impressed by some of the novel and curious customs
then prevalent. The seat of honor assigned a guest was on the left of
the host. The uncovered head for a man was a mark of disrespect and a
servant would accordingly be severely reprimanded if he appeared before
his master with his hat off. Persons in mourning wore white, in striking
contrast with the somber apparel used by ourselves. The shoe polish in
vogue was a chalky white substance. From these and other examples it can
readily be seen I was justified in feeling that I had been transferred
to another planet and had left "dull earth behind me." When we reached
Foo Chow, the gorgeous flowers and other vegetation were at their best.
The month of April was a season set apart by the Chinese to decorate
with flowers the graves of their ancestors; and coming from a land where
such a ceremony was unknown, it impressed me as a beautiful custom. It
suggests, moreover, the inquiry as to whether it was from the Chinese,
or from an innate conviction of the beautiful sentiment demanding an
outward expression, that induced the descendants of the Blue and the
Gray, at a later period, to strew with flowers the last resting-places
of those whose memories they delighted to honor.

Next door to the U.S. Consulate lived a Parsee named Botelwalla, who was
an English subject. He never uncovered his head, and his tarpaulin hat
carried me back to the pictures in my geography while studying at Miss
Forbes's school. He was extensively engaged in the opium trade, and had
large quantities of it stored in his dwelling. One day he came to our
home to make a social visit and, taking it for granted that he was a
fire-worshiper, I inquired whether he came from Persia. He told me that
twelve hundred years ago his family emigrated from that country to
India, where their descendants had since resided. I recall an incident
which convinced me at the time that he was not a consistent follower of
his own religion. Mr. Gouverneur noticed smoke issuing one day from what
he thought was a remote portion of the Botelwalla home, and immediately
called out to the Parsee from an adjoining window that his house was on
fire. Without a moment's hesitation, he got all of his family together,
and for a while they worked most strenuously to subdue the flames and to
save from destruction the hundred thousand dollars' worth of opium
lodged in the Parsee's home. Somewhat later we were surprised to learn
that it was our own kitchen which was on fire. Our ignorance was due to
the fact that the walls of the two houses were so irregular and so oddly
constructed that it was at first exceedingly difficult, upon a
superficial view, to distinguish certain portions of our own home from
those of our neighbor. The one feature, however, connected with the fire
which impressed us most forcibly was the fact that Botelwalla, our
neighbor and fire-worshiper, did not allow his religious scruples to
interfere with the safety of his valuable personal possessions. My
attention, as well as admiration, was frequently directed to a number of
superb India cashmere shawls which I often saw airing on his upper
veranda and which, I think, were used for bed coverings.

Soon after his arrival in Foo Chow, Mr. Gouverneur was fortunate in
securing the services of a Chinese interpreter named Ling Kein, a
mandarin of high order, who wore the "blue button," significant of his
rank. In addition to this distinction he wore on his hat the peacock
feather, an official reward of merit. He was a Chinese of remarkable
intelligence, well versed in English as well as in the Chinese
vernacular, and was also the master of several dialects. He surprised me
by his familiarity with New York, and upon inquiry I learned that he had
once taken a junk into that port, which was naturally regarded with
great curiosity by the Gothamites. He remembered many prominent New
Yorkers, one of whom was Daniel Lord, the distinguished lawyer, whom he
had met in a professional relation. He also recalled my old friend and
Mr. Gouverneur's kinsman, William Kemble, who lived next door to Mr.
Lord opposite St. John's Park. Ling Kein and his family lived in our
house, but they led such secluded lives that I seldom saw them; indeed,
we never laid eyes upon our interpreter except when his presence was
required. He was not in the employ of our government, but his salary of
one hundred dollars a month was paid from my husband's private means.
His services were invaluable and when we first began housekeeping he
secured our domestic staff for us. The butler was Ning Ping, a
Christianized Chinese, who took entire charge of the
establishment--going to market, regulating the servants and even handing
them their wages. For his services he received four dollars a month.

I found this mode of life ideally pleasant and easy until I heard an
uproar one day in the servants' quarters in which my two nurses seemed
to be involved. I was entirely ignorant as to the cause of the commotion
and for some time held my peace, as one of the first lessons I learned
in China was not to probe too deeply into domestic affairs, since one
derived but little satisfaction from the attempt. As the confusion
continued, however, I summoned Ling Kein in order to ascertain the cause
of it. It seems that Ning Ping had paid the women their wages in Mexican
dollars which were not of the proper weight. There prevailed a crafty
method of clipping or punching the coins, and this dishonest Chinaman
had taken advantage of those whom he thought to be simply
unsophisticated women. The trouble was finally quelled by an agreement
that in future I should personally pay the nurses their wages. I gave
each of these women four dollars a month for their services. Our cook,
Ting Ting, who was a chef, and the four coolies, who were the chair
bearers, were also paid four dollars a month each. The gatekeeper, whose
duties were to open and close the front gate and to look after the
chairs of visitors, received a similar sum for his services. I also
employed by the month a native tailor, whose sole requirements for his
work were a chair and a table. He did the entire sewing of the
establishment and charged four dollars a month for his labor. At least
one of my experiences with him failed to confirm the extraordinary
powers of imitation possessed by the Chinese, for upon one occasion when
I trusted him with a handsome garment, with strict injunctions to follow
the model I gave him, he completely ignored my instructions and carried
out his own designs.

Fortunately for us, this retinue of retainers provided its own food and
clothing, and I was in blissful ignorance as to where they stowed
themselves away for the night. A laundryman called once a week for our
clothes and his charges were two dollars a hundred for articles of every
description. I am almost ashamed to acknowledge that I never saw the
interior of our kitchen, but our cook served our dinners in the most
approved manner. We frequently had guests to dine with us and as the
butler, Ning Ping, was as much an expert in his department as the cook,
Ting Ting, was in his, I was delightfully irresponsible and often
wondered, as I sat at my own table, what the next course would be. Our
guests were principally men, usually the senior members of _Hongs_ and
officers of war-ships lying in the harbor, and it was the custom of each
to bring with him his "boy," who stood behind him throughout the repast.

There was quite a number of missionaries in the city, and each religious
denomination provided its ministers with comfortable quarters. The
Baptists were especially well represented and also the "American Board,"
which was established in Boston in 1812. The English residents had a
small chapel of their own which was well sustained by them. There was
one missionary who commanded my especial respect and admiration. I refer
to the Rev. Mr. William C. Burns, a Scotch Presbyterian clergyman. He
led a life of consecrated self-denial, living exclusively with the
natives and dressing in the Chinese garb which, with his Caucasian
features and blond complexion, caused him to present the drollest
appearance. Only those who have resided in China can understand the
repugnance with which anyone accustomed to the amenities of refined
society would naturally regard such a life. He gave up body and soul to
the spread of Christianity in a heathen land, recalling to my mind the
early Jesuits, Francis Xavier, Lucas Caballero and Cipriano Baraza, who
penetrated pathless forests and crossed unknown seas in conformity with
the requirements of their sacred mission. Mr. Burns died in China in the
earnest pursuit of his vocation. I own a copy of his life published in
New York in 1870, soon after his death.

The Roman Catholic Church was well represented in Foo Chow and was under
the general direction of the order of the Dominicans. Each portion of
China, in fact, even the most remote, was under the jurisdiction of
some Roman Catholic Order, so that directly or indirectly almost every
Chinaman in the Empire was reached. The Catholics also had a large
orphan asylum in Foo Chow, over whose portals, in Chinese characters,
was the verse from the Psalms: "When my father and my mother forsake me,
then the Lord will take me up." Nothing brought back to me my far-away
Western home more pleasantly than the tones of the Angelus sounding from
the belfry of this institution.

There was a native orphan asylum in Foo Chow, not far from the American
Consulate--a fact I have never seen stated in any of the numerous books
I have read relating to the "Middle Kingdom." With true Chinese insight,
the largest salary was paid the nurse who successfully reared the
greatest number of babies. When I lived in China, the laws for the
prevention of infanticide were as stringent as our own, but they were
often successfully evaded. Poverty was so grinding in the East that the
slaughter of children was one of its most pitiable consequences. Infants
were made way with at birth, before they were regarded with the eye of
affection.

Fifty years ago slavery was prevalent among the Chinese, and one of its
saddest features consisted in the fact that its victims were of their
own race and color. Poverty-stricken parents sold their offspring to
brokers, and in Foo Chow it was recognized as a legitimate business.
Theoretically there were no slaves in Hong-Kong, which is British
territory, but in reality the city was full of them. Both men and women
slave-brokers infested the large cities of China, and boys and girls
between the ages of ten and twelve were sent from all the neighboring
villages to be sold in Foo Chow. The girls were purchased to be employed
as servants, and sometimes parents would buy them for the purpose of
training them until they reached the proper age and of then marrying
them off to their sons. In this way, as may readily be seen, some of
the young people of China were spared the vicissitudes and
discouragements of courtship so keenly realized in some other countries.
I have seen girl slaves sold with no other property except the clothes
upon their backs. Frequently their garments were of the scantiest
character and in some cases even these were claimed by the avaricious
brokers. Many of the waifs were purchased upon trial as a precaution
against leprosy which prevailed throughout the East. One of the tests
consisted in placing the child in a dark room under a blue light; if the
skin was found to be of a greenish hue, the slave passed muster; but, on
the other hand, if it was of a reddish tinge it indicated the early
stages of this fatal malady. Babies were not much in demand in Foo Chow
and did not even command the price of fresh pork! I learned at an orphan
asylum in Shanghai that they were purchased at twenty cents each. This
institution was conducted by missionaries who taught the girls all kinds
of domestic duties and, when they arrived at proper ages, saw that they
were given to suitable men for wives.

Not far from the Consulate were the quarters of the Tartars. They seemed
to live very much to themselves, and most of the men were connected with
the military service of the country. It may not be generally known that
ever since the commencement of the Tartar dynasty, between two and three
centuries ago, the queue has been worn by the Chinese as a badge of
submission to the Tartars. The feet of the women were not compressed by
these early rulers and consequently the Court did not set the fashion as
in European countries. I understand that even now the bandaged feet are
universal.

In those days there were no railroads or telegraphs in China. The
Emperor died while we were living in Foo Chow and the news did not reach
us until several weeks after the event, and then only through the medium
of a courier. The official announcement came to the Consulate upon a
long yellow card bearing certain Chinese characters. All of the
mandarins in our city, upon receiving the intelligence, gathered at the
various temples to bewail in loud tones and with tearful eyes the death
of their ruler.

The palace of the Viceroy was naturally the chief objective point of all
foreigners and especially of officials upon their arrival in port.
Occasions frequently occurred when Mr. Gouverneur was compelled to go
through the formality of requesting an interview with this high
official. These audiences were always promptly granted and were
conducted with a great amount of pomp and ceremony very dear to the
inhabitants of "far Cathay," but exceedingly tiresome to others. Some
distance from us, and in another quarter of the city, was a large
building called Examination Hall, used by the natives exclusively in
connection with the civil service of the government. It was divided into
small rooms, each of which was large enough to accommodate only one
person, and in these the young men of that locality who were aspirants
for governmental positions were locked each year while they wrote their
test examination papers. The hall accommodated ten thousand students and
the time of examination was regarded by the Chinese as a critical period
in a young man's life, as his chances of future success largely depended
upon the ability displayed in his papers. These were carefully read by a
board of examiners, and official positions were assigned to those who
excelled in the examination. Intelligence was regarded as the chief
condition of executive favor and, although personal influence naturally
had its weight, its exercise did not seem to be as prevalent in China as
elsewhere. It may not be flattering to the pride of other nations, but
the fact remains that the civil service of China was the forerunner of
the reforms instituted in countries which we are accustomed to regard
as much more enlightened in governmental polity.

While we were in China, the seas were infested with a formidable band of
native pirates that had committed depredations for many years. One day
two rival factions dropped anchor at the same time in the Min River,
directly opposite Foo Chow, and opened a brisk fire upon each other.
Many of the foreigners became much alarmed, as projectiles were flying
around at a lively rate. One of these which had entered the house of an
American missionary was brought to the Consulate, and Mr. Gouverneur was
urged to take some action. The natives of China were at times a
turbulent people who seemed glad for an excuse to stir up the community
and, in consequence of this battle of the sea-robbers, a mob formed in
Foo Chow which threatened disastrous results. The only foreign vessel in
the harbor was a United States man-of-war, the _Adams_, under the
command of James F. Schenck, subsequently a Rear Admiral in our Navy.
Only a few days previous the British ships had departed for the mouth of
the Peiho River, for the purpose of forcing opium upon the poor Chinese
at the cannon's mouth. The city authorities were requested to use their
influence in quelling the riots but seemed unequal to the emergency.
This state of affairs continued for several days, when one morning the
_Taotai_ (mayor), preceded by men beating gongs and followed by a large
retinue, arrived at the Consulate and requested protection for the city.
Upon a similar occasion during the previous summer, when a number of
British warships were in port, these belligerent pirates received
summary treatment by having their anchor cables cut, thus causing them
to float down the river.

Upon Mr. Gouverneur's request the _Adams_ sent a detachment of marines
on shore. It was quartered around the Consulate and its presence quickly
had the desired moral effect upon all parties, and proved a source of
great relief to both foreign and native residents. Later all
apprehension was removed by the speedy departure of the unwelcome
marauders. Meanwhile the Consulate had received many valuables,
deposited there for safety. The morning following the departure of the
ships we noticed a large number of boxes in our courtyard and also
several sheep tied to the flag-staff. For a time we could not understand
the meaning of this queer collection and were compelled to assign it to
the usual incomprehensibilities of Chinese life. Mr. Gouverneur went in
search of our interpreter, hoping that he could explain the situation,
but to our surprise he had fled. We learned that he stood in great awe
of the pirates and feared their vengeance if he told all he knew about
them. Mr. Milne, the British interpreter, finally came to our rescue. It
seems that the sheep and boxes were parting gifts--"Kumshaws," as the
Chinese term them--from the pirates to the American and British Consuls
and Mr. Milne.

At first we had no idea what the boxes contained, and Mr. Gouverneur
sought the advice of William Sloane, the head of the _Hong_ of Russell
and Company, who had long been a resident of China, as to what should be
done with this strange consignment. He strongly urged that, as a matter
of policy, they be accepted and the British Consul, Walter H. Medhurst,
agreed with him. The medley collection was accordingly divided into
three groups and some coolies were engaged to convey to the English
Consul and Mr. Milne their respective shares. The sheep took the lead,
and it was indeed a curious procession that we watched from our windows
as we breathed a sigh of relief over the departure of this
"embarrassment of riches," and commenced to plan for the disposal of our
own share. A few minutes later I chanced to glance out of the window
when, to my utter dismay, I saw the procession so recently _en route_ to
the British Consulate reenter our courtyard. We were informed that
Medhurst had weakened and refused to receive his share of the
"Kumshaws." Mr. Gouverneur was much annoyed by such vacillating conduct
and immediately notified the British Consul in emphatic language that if
he refused to accept the piratical gifts he would regard it as a
personal matter. This had the desired effect and a second time the
procession wended its way to the British Consulate. The boxes proved to
contain hams, rock candy, dates and other provisions which we
immediately sent to the American missionaries, while the sheep were
given to Mr. Sloane to do with them whatever he pleased. We found this
gentleman throughout our Chinese life to be a man of superior judgment
and an agreeable companion. After a long and successful career in the
East, he died in China just on the eve of his embarkation for America.
He never married and many years later I had the pleasure of becoming
acquainted with his brother, Samuel Sloane, the railroad magnate, at
Garrison's-on-the-Hudson; and, owing to our agreeable association with
his brother, both Mr. and Mrs. Sloane always welcomed me with great
cordiality.

I have already referred to Commander (afterwards Rear Admiral) James F.
Schenck, U.S.N. Our association with him in Foo Chow was highly
agreeable. He was our frequent guest at the Consulate and we soon
discovered in him a man of rare wit; indeed, I have understood that
fifty years ago he was considered the most clever _raconteur_ in the
Navy. Commander Schenck's Executive Officer on the _Adams_ was
Lieutenant James J. Waddell, whom we regarded as a pleasing and
congenial guest. Subsequent to his life in Eastern waters, his career
was unusually interesting. He was a native of North Carolina and,
resigning his commission in the United States service at the opening of
the Civil War, subsequently entered the Confederate Navy, where he was
finally assigned to the command of the celebrated cruiser _Shenandoah_.
This ship, formerly the British merchantman _Sea King_, was bought in
England for L45,000 by James D. Bulloch, the Naval Agent of the Southern
Confederacy in Great Britain, to take the place of the _Alabama_, which
had been sunk by the _Kearsarge_ in June, 1864. She left London in the
fall of the same year and fitted out as an armed cruiser off Madeira.
She then went to Australia and, after cruising in various parts of the
Pacific, sailed for Behring Sea and the Arctic Ocean, where she met with
remarkable success in her depredations upon Northern shipping. She
captured thirty-eight vessels, mostly whalers, and the actual losses
inflicted by her were only sixty thousand dollars less than those
charged to the _Alabama_. Captain Waddell first heard of the downfall of
the Confederacy when off the coast of Lower California on the 2d of
August, 1865--between three and four months after the event--and, as he
had captured in that interval about a dozen ships and realized that his
acts might be regarded as piratical, he sailed for England where, early
in November, he surrendered the _Shenandoah_ to the British government.
She was turned over to the United States, was subsequently sold to the
Sultan of Zanzibar and was lost in 1879 in the Indian Ocean. She was the
only ship that carried the flag of the Confederacy around the world. In
December, 1861, Captain Waddell married a daughter of James Iglehart of
Annapolis, and died in that city a number of years ago.

The American Consulate was the rendezvous of all Naval officers who came
into port, and I recall with gratification Lieutenant John J. B.
Walbach, a son of Colonel John DeBarth Walbach, a well-known officer of
the Army, Dr. Philip Lansdale, Dr. Benjamin F. Gibbs, Lieutenant George
M. Blodgett and Lieutenant (afterwards Rear Admiral) John C. Beaumont.
The latter was frequently my guest in Washington after my return to
America, and Doctors Lansdale and Gibbs I met again at the Capital,
where we took pleasure in discussing our Chinese observations and
experiences. While in China I also became acquainted with Captain and
Mrs. Eliphalet Nott of Schenectady, the former of whom was a nephew of
the venerable President Eliphalet Nott of Union College. He commanded
his own vessel, the _Don Quixote_, and was usually accompanied on his
voyages by his wife--a mode of life that impressed me as quite ideal.

One day as I was passing through the streets of Foo Chow my attention
was directed to a gayly-dressed woman seated in a chair decked with
flowers. I was informed that she was a Chinese widow who was about to
sacrifice herself upon the pyre in accordance with the custom of the
country. I subsequently learned that when this woman reached the place
appointed for the ceremony, she found an immense assemblage, including
many mandarins and her own brother, the latter of whom had agreed to
apply the torch that should launch her into eternity. The crowd,
however, was disappointed, for at the last moment her courage failed her
and she announced that she must return home at once as she had forgotten
to feed her pig! The woman's life was saved, but the disappointment of
the throng found expression in a riot which, however, was speedily
quelled by the authorities.

The Chinese nation was the victim of an outrageous wrong, and the
perpetrators were Americans and Englishmen whose unquenchable avarice
overcame their moral convictions. I refer to the iniquitous manner in
which opium was introduced into the country and subsequently sold to the
natives. Large fortunes were accumulated in this way, but it was nothing
more nor less than "blood money" wrung from the pockets of those who had
a right to expect better things from the representatives of Christian
countries. China at this time was unable to cope by force with the
Western nations, but she did not renounce the right to protect herself
from this outrage without a struggle. When, however, she asserted this
right, as she did on a certain occasion by seizing and burning the
deadly drug, she made herself liable for heavy indemnities and was
compelled to abandon the unequal struggle. In consequence of this act,
six hundred thousand dollars passed through Mr. Gouverneur's hands as
U.S. Consul. Even in recent years the Chinese Emperor has sought to
protect his subjects from the evils of opium. When I lived in China,
Congo tea was cultivated around Foo Chow, but in time it was abandoned
and the poppy took its place. A few years ago an edict was issued
prohibiting the cultivation of this flower and I understand that tea is
again a product of this region. When I resided in Foo Chow, some of the
most prominent business houses were involved in the smuggling of opium,
and one very large and wealthy firm--that of Jardine and
Matthewson--actually employed a heavily armed gunboat to assist it in
the accomplishment of this colossal outrage. It will be remembered that
when Li Hung Chang, then one of the richest men in the world, visited
this country a few years ago he frequently asked the wealthy men whom he
met where they got their money. Whether or not he had in mind at the
time the manner in which certain American and English fortunes had been
accumulated in his native land does not appear; but if his question had
been directed to the heads of some of the business houses in Foo Chow
and elsewhere in China while I was there, it certainly would have
produced, to say the least, no little embarrassment.

Poor China has suffered much from the impositions and depredations of
foreigners. Pillage and theft have marked the paths of foreign invaders
in a manner wholly inconsistent with the code of honorable warfare, and
acts have been committed that would never be tolerated in conflicts
between Western nations. It was said that the title of Comte de Pelikao
was conferred by Louis Napoleon upon General Charles Montauban for
having presented the Empress Eugenie with some superb black pearls taken
from the Imperial Summer Palace when it was looted in 1860. At the same
time and in the same manner also disappeared many almost priceless gems,
costly articles of _vertu_, treasures in gold and silver and a wealth of
ancient manuscripts; while similar outrages were ruthlessly perpetrated
in the same unfortunate city only a few years ago as the closing chapter
in the Boxer troubles. Unhappy China! She has felt the aggressive hand
of her Western "brothers" ever since the unwilling invasion of her
shores.

About this time China was the resort of many adventurous Americans, some
of whom doubtless "left their country for their country's good," with a
view of seeking their fortunes. We became very well acquainted with a
New Yorker named Augustus Joseph Francis Harrison, a master of a craft
sailing in Chinese waters. His early life had been spent in Morrisania
in New York, where he had become familiar with the name of my husband's
relative, Gouverneur Morris, and was thus led to seek our acquaintance.
One day he came to the Consulate apparently in ill health and told us he
was in a serious condition. It seems that he had employed an English
physician whose violent remedies had failed to benefit him and had
prompted him to declare that he had been mistaken for a horse! He begged
us for shelter and we accordingly gave him a room and retained him at
the Consulate as our guest. We knew but little of medical remedies, but
we did the best for him we could, and in due time were delighted to see
that our patient was convalescing. One day my husband and my daughter
Maud visited him in his room and, as a token of gratitude, he presented
to the little girl the "Pirates' God," one of his most cherished
treasures--a curious idol, which is still in her possession. On the back
of it he wrote the following history:--"This idol, together with the
whole contents of two large pirate boats, was captured after a severe
fight of three hours, they having undertaken to take us by surprise;
consequently thirty or forty were killed. The rest made good their
escape by jumping overboard and swimming ashore. The boats and contents,
too, were sold."

Foo Chow was a region frequently visited by typhoons, in consequence of
which a municipal law required houses to be but one story high. During
the latter part of our residence in China we experienced the terrors of
a storm remarkable for its severity and in the course of which a portion
of the Consulate was blown down. After spending some anxious hours in an
underground passage in the middle of the night, we were finally obliged
to take refuge in the _Hong_ of Augustus Heard and Company. I shall
never forget, as we sat in this lonely cellar with the elements raging
above us, the imploring cries of my young children, "I want to go home."
It was while this storm was raging that Mr. Gouverneur received the
following note from George J. Weller, the representative of this
well-known firm:--

     My dear Mr. Gouverneur,

     The Barometer is going up--the wind will probably abate a
     little soon, and perhaps then Mrs. G. and the children can
     come. _Make_ the coolies carry the chair. Three can do it.

The semi-tropical climate of Foo Chow, however, did not agree with Mr.
Gouverneur, in consequence of which we decided to return home. His
campaign during the Mexican War had made serious inroads upon his
health, from which he never entirely recovered. It was hoped that his
life in the East would be beneficial, but it proved otherwise.
Meanwhile, the Civil War was raging in the United States, but the news
concerning it was very stale long before it reached us. We did not
receive the particulars of the battle of Bull Run, for example, until
three months after its occurrence. In view of the turbulent state of
affairs at home, the government thought it important that Mr. Gouverneur
should remain at his post of duty until the arrival of his successor,
and he decided to do so. During these days of uncertainty, however, my
husband deemed it wise that, if possible, I should return with the
children on a ship sailing under the protection of the British flag, and
I quite agreed with him. In due time the favorable opportunity presented
itself, and I embarked for America in the British merchantman _Mirage_.
The wisdom of Mr. Gouverneur's judgment was fully confirmed, as the next
American vessel sailing from Foo Chow after my departure was captured by
a Confederate privateer. When I went to China I took two little girls
with me, and returned with three. At the birth of the last daughter we
named her "Rose de Chine," in order to identify her more intimately with
the land of her nativity. Soon after her birth, several Chinese asked
me: "How many girls do you keep?"

We were the only passengers on the _Mirage_ and, besides having very
superior accommodations on board, we were treated with every
consideration by its captain. We were three months upon the homeward
voyage and the captain called it smooth sailing. We fell in with many
vessels _en route_ and, to quote our skipper, we found them "like human
beings, some very friendly and others stern and curt." When in mid-ocean
we passed an American vessel, the _Anna Decatur_, which seemed like a
welcome from home as it was named after a former New York friend of
mine, Anna Pine Decatur, a niece of Commodore Stephen Decatur, who
married Captain William H. Parsons of the merchant service. Lieutenant
Stephen Decatur, U.S.N., a brother of Anna Pine Decatur, was a constant
visitor at our house in Houston Street in my young days. During one of
his cruises he was stricken with a serious illness which resulted in
total blindness. He subsequently married but, although he never had the
pleasure of seeing his wife and children, his genial nature was not
changed by his affliction. In 1869 he became a Commodore on the retired
list, but some of the family connection objected to his use of this
title, as in their opinion the world should recognize only one Commodore
Stephen Decatur, the naval hero of 1812.

As we neared New York harbor I became decidedly impatient and was
congratulating myself one morning that our long voyage was almost over,
when I noticed that the usually pleasant expression on the captain's
face had changed to one of extreme anxiety. I inquired: "What is wrong,
Captain?" and to my dismay he replied: "Everything!" He then told me we
were just outside the pilot grounds, but that in all his experience,
even in Chinese waters, he had never known the barometer to fall so low;
and, to add to his anxiety, there was no pilot within sight! It was a
very cold February morning, the thermometer having reached the zero
mark, and I went at once to my cabin to prepare for the worst. The
captain meanwhile commenced to make preparations for a severe storm, but
before we realized it the tempest was upon us and our vessel was blown
far out to sea, where for three days we were at the mercy of the
elements. The rudder was tied, the hatches battened down and there was
nothing left to do but to sit with folded hands and trust to that
Providence whom even the waters obey.

[Illustration: MRS. GOUVERNEUR'S THREE DAUGHTERS.

_Miss Gouverneur, Mrs. Roswell Randall Hoes, Mrs. William Crawford
Johnson._]

I remember sitting in my stateroom one of those terrible nights entirely
alone and without even the comforting sound of a human voice. Our life
preservers were within reach, but I fully realized that they would be of
but little avail in such a raging sea. During those anxious moments,
with my little children sound asleep in the adjoining cabin and quite
oblivious of impending danger, I wondered whether it would be my destiny
to close my earthly career on Rockaway Beach, near the spot where I had
first seen the light of day; but soon after those anxious moments I was
indeed grateful, as the captain told me that if the wind had been in
another quarter all of us would have perished within a few hours.
Gradually the winds and storm ceased and, the waters becoming calmer, we
finally reached our haven without even being subjected to the annoying
presence of a Custom House official, as the high seas had prevented his
visit. When I reached land I learned that the awful storm had extended
along the whole eastern coast and had carried death and devastation in
its track. The children and I were driven to my mother's late residence,
57 West Thirty-sixth Street, but she was no longer there to greet me, as
she had passed into the Great Beyond the year before my return; but my
sister Charlotte and my brother Malcolm were still living there, both of
whom were unmarried. I had received such kindness from the captain of
the _Mirage_ during the homeward voyage that I felt I should like to
make some fitting return, and accordingly his wife and daughter became
my guests.




CHAPTER XIII

THE CIVIL WAR AND LIFE IN MARYLAND


As the time passed I became somewhat anxious over the delay in Mr.
Gouverneur's return to this country. It seems, however, that, with
neither of us knowing it, we were upon the sea at the same time. His
homeward voyage was made by the way of the Isthmus of Suez and
Marseilles. For a while it seemed difficult for either of us to realize
that we were in our own country once more, as the Civil War had turned
everything and everybody topsy turvy. When we left the country, party
animosities were pitched to a high key, but the possibility of a
gigantic civil war as a solution of political problems would have been
regarded as preposterous. On our return, however, the country was wild
with excitement over an armed struggle, the eventual magnitude of which
no one had yet dreamed of. Newly equipped regiments were constantly
passing in our vicinity for the seat of war, the national ensign and
other emblems of loyalty were displayed on every hand and a martial
spirit pervaded the very atmosphere. The war was the one important topic
of conversation at homes, in the streets and in places of business. The
passions of the people were so thoroughly aroused that they were
frequently expressed in severe denunciation of any who presumed to
entertain conservative views of the situation of affairs and who still
hoped for conciliation and peace. Suspicions were often created by
trivial but well-intended acts or remarks that were susceptible of a
double construction, and loyal sentiment was often so pronounced in its
denunciation of the South that no word or remark could be tolerated
that by any possibility could be construed as a criticism of the
administration, a disapproval of the war or of any detail relating to
its conduct. For example, not long after our return from China, while
Mr. Gouverneur and I were visiting my sister, Mrs. Eames, in Washington,
we were watching one day a newly equipped regiment from Vermont while
passing her residence _en route_ for the seat of war, when Mr. Eames
remarked, "Gouverneur, isn't that a fine regiment?" My husband, who then
and always thereafter was thoroughly loyal to the cause of the Union,
but whose military training had made him familiar with the precise
tactics and evolutions of regular troops, replied: "They need training,"
when Mr. Eames, with much warmth of feeling, exclaimed: "You are a
secessionist, sir!"

That, however, represented but a mild state of feeling compared with
that sometimes entertained between those who were loyal to the Union and
others who sympathized with the South. I recall one conspicuous instance
where such antagonistic views resulted in personal animosity that
severed tender personal relations of long standing. When I left the
country a lifelong intimacy had existed between Mrs. Charles Vanden
Heuvel, a granddaughter of Robert Morris, the great financier of the
Revolution, and Mrs. George Gibbs, granddaughter of the Connecticut
statesman, Oliver Wolcott; but after the outbreak of the war these two
elderly women differed so radically in their views concerning the
conflict that, for a period, their personal relations were severed. The
spirit of toleration was so utterly lacking in both the North and the
South that even those allied by ties of blood were estranged, and a
spirit of bitter resentment and crimination everywhere prevailed. This
state of feeling, under the circumstances, was doubtless inevitable, but
it emphasized better than almost anything else, except bloodshed itself,
the truth of General Sherman's declaration that "War is Hell!"

The animosities engendered by the war ruptured family ties and familiar
associations in Maryland much more completely than in the North. One of
the Needwood families was that of Outerbridge Horsey, who was a
pronounced Southern sympathizer, while not far away at Mount O'Donnell,
a superb old estate, lived General Columbus O'Donnell, who ardently
espoused the cause of the Union. Mr. Horsey had a son born just after a
Southern victory whom he named Robert Victor Lee; but later, after a
Confederate defeat, General O'Donnell suggested that the name be changed
to Robert "Skedaddle" Lee, whereupon Mr. Horsey retorted that he thought
the name of a grandchild of General O'Donnell might appropriately be
changed to George "Retreat" McClellan. Of Charles Oliver O'Donnell, one
of the General's sons, I retain the pleasantest memories. He was a
gentleman of attractive personality and a genial nature. His first wife
was Lucinia de Sodre, daughter of Luis Pereira de Sodre, who at the time
of his daughter's marriage was the Brazilian Minister in Washington. Mr.
O'Donnell's second wife was Miss Helen Sophia Carroll of Baltimore.

After remaining a few months in New York and a shorter period in
Washington, we visited Mr. Gouverneur's father, who was still living at
Needwood in Maryland. Here we found a radical change of scene, for we
were now in close proximity to the seat of war. On our journey southward
we were somewhat delayed by the rumor that General Lee was about to
enter Maryland, rendering it necessary for us to procure passes, which
was accomplished through the courtesy of General Edward Shriver, a
native of Frederick, who held at the time an important official position
in Baltimore. We had thought when we arrived in New York that public
feeling ran high, but it was mild compared with our observations and
experiences in Maryland, and we never dared to predict what a day would
bring forth. Mr. Gouverneur's father was a pronounced Northern man, but
his wife's relatives, as well as most of his neighbors, sympathized with
the South. Soon after the outbreak of the war, while we were yet in
China, and at the period when Maryland was wavering between the North
and South, and to anxious spectators secession seemed almost inevitable,
my father-in-law and ex-Governor Philip F. Thomas left one morning on a
hurried trip to Frederick, where the State Legislature was convened in
special session, instead of at the State Capitol in Annapolis, which was
then occupied by Union troops. A report had reached them that the
legislature would probably declare for secession and call a convention
to take into consideration an ordinance for the accomplishment of that
end, and they desired to exert whatever influence they could command to
retain the State in the Union. The national administration, however, was
equally alert, and a measure much more effective, in this instance, than
moral suasion was employed to defeat the adherents of the Southern
cause. General John A. Dix arrested ten members-elect of the State
Legislature, the mayor of Baltimore, a congressman and two editors;
while in Frederick, General Nathaniel P. Banks took into custody nine
other members who, under the suspension of the writ of habeas corpus,
were confined for a time either in Fort Lafayette in New York or in Fort
Warren in Boston. I well remember that one of these was Severn Teackle
Wallis of Baltimore, a lawyer of exceptional prominence and ability and
a universal favorite in society.

Shortly before the battle of Gettysburg, when Frederick County was
occupied by the Union troops, many of the officers dined at Needwood. A
little later, although over forty miles away, we knew that a great
battle was in progress, as we distinctly heard the steady firing of
heavy artillery. The news of the great Union victory finally reached us
and I listened in silent sympathy to the rejoicing of the Unionists and
heard the lamentations of the sympathizers with the Southern cause.

After the battle of Gettysburg, the disorganized Southern army came
straggling along through Maryland, their objective point being Harper's
Ferry; while General George G. Meade with his troops was on South
Mountain, within sight of the former locality. During the night there
arose one of the most violent storms I have ever known, and we naturally
supposed that it would render the Potomac and Shenandoah Rivers, which
meet at Harper's Ferry, absolutely impassable, as all bridges had, of
course, been destroyed. The storm raged with such fury that we were
actually afraid to go to bed. Mr. Gouverneur and I were elated because
we believed it meant the end of hostilities and the Union restored; for
in our opinion, it seemed impossible for human beings to successfully
contend with the elements and at the same time to live under the fire of
Meade's guns. It would therefore be difficult to describe our surprise
when we learned the next morning that Lee's troops had safely crossed
the Potomac and were again on the soil of Virginia.

Several days later Mr. Gouverneur and I were driving on the national
turnpike, commonly called the Hagerstown pike, when we encountered the
Union army. Our destination was the country seat of ex-Governor Philip
F. Thomas, two miles from Frederick and within the shadow of Catoctin
mountain, which we were contemplating as a future home. Our travel was
not impeded except by an occasional inquiry in regard to our political
sentiments, as the Northern army was prone to believe that every
sojourner in Maryland at this time was an adherent of the South. This
national turnpike, which has been and still is a well-traveled
thoroughfare, was constructed at a cost of several million dollars and
was generally regarded as an extravagance of John Adams' administration.
In speaking of this road, which begins at Georgetown, D.C., and crosses
the mountains into Kentucky, Henry Clay once remarked that no one need
go abroad for scenery after viewing "the Valley of the Shenandoah,
Harper's Ferry, and the still more beautiful Middletown valley."

We were so favorably impressed by the Thomas place that we decided to
purchase it and in a short time found ourselves permanent residents of
Frederick County, in Maryland. We changed the name from "Waverley" to
"_Po-ne-sang_," which was the name of a Chinese Mission and meant "a
small hill." After seeing the children and myself comfortably
established in our new home, Mr. Gouverneur felt that he was now free to
give his services to the country for which he had so valiantly fought
during the Mexican War. As he was still in exceedingly delicate health,
active service in the field with all the exposures of camp life was
entirely out of the question but, desirous of rendering such services as
he could, he wrote the following letter to Major General Henry W.
Halleck, Commander in Chief of our Army:--

     On my return from China, where I held the office of Consul
     of the U.S., in the early part of May last I had the honor,
     through the Honorable Secretary of State, to offer my
     services to the President of the United States in any
     capacity in which my military or other experience might
     enable me to serve my country in its present hour of peril.
     To my communication to this effect I have received no reply.

     I have the honour now to tender to you my services on your
     staff in some position wherein they may prove most
     available.

     The record of my former services in Mexico is on the files
     of the War Department, and I am without vanity led to
     believe that the historical associations which place my name
     in connection with that of James Monroe may give a prestige
     in our cause not wholly valueless. In conclusion I beg to
     add that the subject of compensation with me would be a
     matter of indifference.

General Halleck replied as follows:--

     Washington, July 30, 1863.

     Samuel L. Gouverneur Jr.
     New York.

     Sir,

     The law authorizing the appointment of additional aides has
     been repealed. Moreover, I have long since refused to
     nominate except for distinguished or meritorious military
     services. It is true that some have been put upon my staff
     without having rendered any service at all, but they were
     not nominated by me, and I do not recognize their
     appointment as legal.

          Yours &c.,

               H. W. HALLECK,
               Major General Commanding.

General Halleck seemed to be ignorant of the fact that the chief
requisite for serving upon his staff was not wanting in the case of my
husband, who, as before stated, was brevetted for gallantry and
meritorious conduct at the battles of Contreras and Churubusco in the
Mexican War.

Halleck's reply was a bitter disappointment to Mr. Gouverneur but a
tremendous relief to me, as I knew he was not in the condition of health
to serve even as a staff-officer. When he originally broached the
subject to me I did not try to dissuade him, as I felt that I had no
moral right to interfere with his ideas of duty to his country. The
Halleck letter, therefore, brought about a state of affairs in our
household much more satisfactory than my most sanguine anticipations.
Mr. Gouverneur, having done his full duty, gave up his idea of
re-entering the Army and, in a spirit of contentment, began to take up
life in our new home.

During the month of August, 1863, we had just gotten fairly settled
when the Confederate guerrilla chieftain, John S. Mosby, appeared at our
door with his band of marauders. Their visit was brief and we were
spared the usual depredations--why, we knew not, unless it were owing to
the fact that Mr. Gouverneur's nephew, James Monroe Heiskell, a mere boy
of sixteen, who ran away from home and swam across the Potomac to join
Mosby's band, possibly accompanied him. Mosby's men in the East and
Morgan's rangers in the West represented a species of ignoble warfare.
In reality they did not benefit the cause which they professed to serve,
but merely molested inoffensive farmers by carrying off their stock and
thus depriving them of their means of livelihood. In recent years I
discussed with a Confederate officer, the late General Beverly
Robertson, Mosby's mode of warfare, and he surprised but gratified me
very much by saying that in his opinion, it was a great injury to the
Southern cause. It seems hardly just that, during President Grant's
administration and later, official positions should have been bestowed
upon Mosby while the interests of other Confederate officers who had
fought a fair and honorable fight and had battled, moreover, for their
country during the Mexican War, should have been neglected.

These war experiences furnished strenuous days for us in our new home
and we lived in a state of constant excitement. I well recall the first
morning it was announced to us by one of the <DW52> servants, while we
were at the breakfast table, that "the rebels were coming," and the
feeling of timidity that nearly overpowered me. Very soon some troops
under the command of General Bradley T. Johnson, a native of Frederick,
marched upon our lawn and encamped all around us. General Johnson
immediately came to our door and, although I was in anything but a
comfortable frame of mind, I summoned all my courage and met him at the
threshold. In a very courtly manner--too much so, in fact, to be
expected in time of war--he remarked, "You are a stranger here, madam."
I responded: "My life here has been short; my name is Gouverneur." He at
once said: "I suppose you are a relative of Mr. Gouverneur of the
Maryland Tract." I admitted the fact although I was not quite sure it
was discreet to do so, as the Union sentiments of my father-in-law were
generally well known, and I was talking to a Confederate General. He and
his officers spent some time with us and we found them exceedingly
friendly, and thus, at least for a time, the terrors of war were
averted. Many years later I met General Johnson in my own drawing-room
when he and his wife came from Baltimore to attend the wedding of my
daughter, Ruth Monroe, to his cousin, Doctor William Crawford Johnson,
of Frederick. We naturally discussed our first meeting when he was
greeted with less cordiality than he received during his present visit.

Upon learning of the approach of the Confederates, we made rapid
preparations for their advent. As we had learned from our neighbors that
the South stood in great need of horses and we owned a number of them of
more than usual value, Mr. Gouverneur seized upon an ingenious plan for
concealing them. Under our house was a fine cellar which, unfortunately,
the horses refused to enter until the steps leading into it were
removed. When this had been done, they were led down one by one into a
darkened room, and bags were securely tied over their eyes to prevent
them from neighing. During the visit of the Confederates, which seemed
to us interminably long, owing to our anxiety about the horses, General
Johnson sat directly over their hiding place; but they behaved like
well-bred beasts and never uttered a sound. I had serious misgivings,
however, when I saw a mounted officer, riding around the house to make a
survey of the premises, stop at the upturned steps. For a moment I
thought all was over and my feelings were akin to those, I fancy, of a
person secreting stolen goods; but the investigation happily went no
further and he rode on.

When the active preparations for hiding the horses were in progress my
children were running hither and thither and watching the process with
much interest and excitement. I called them to me and in my sternest
tones told them of the near approach of the soldiers and gave them to
understand that if they said "horse" or "rebel devil" in their presence
I should punish them severely. They had been taught by the <DW64>s on
the place to call the Southerners "rebel devils," and I feared for the
result if they allowed their childish tongues to wag too freely. A few
hours later I spoke to one of the little girls upon some topic entirely
foreign to our original subject, but she was so overawed by my threat
and the presence of the troops that she seemed afraid to utter a word.
After a little encouragement, however, she crept up to my side and
whispered: "Mamma, they have taken all of our saddles!" General Johnson
was still sitting on our porch, when a soldier approached and asked for
an ax. One was immediately procured, when the General, asking the man's
name, said: "That ax is to be returned." This order struck me as
somewhat ludicrous when a little later I learned that the ax was to be
used in demolishing all of our fences! This precaution was deemed
important in order to facilitate, if necessary, a more speedy retreat.

As night approached we were asked if a guard would be acceptable, and we
were only too glad to avail ourselves of such protection. As we were
closing the house for the night, after our strenuous day, one of the
soldiers on guard duty remarked to me, in a friendly voice: "Now I am
going to bed!" In my astonishment I said: "Where?" The smiling response
was: "On the porch, to be sure!" In this state of unrest there was no
repose for us that night and we did not even attempt to undress, as we
knew not what an hour might bring forth. Just before dawn there was a
knock upon the front door and, upon opening it, I found facing me a
guard who, without any apology, said: "I left my boots inside!" Before I
had locked the front door again and returned to my room, the Southerners
had "folded up their tents like the Arabs and as silently stolen away."
Only a short period had elapsed when several mounted officers dashed up
our driveway and anxiously inquired: "Where are the guards?" They gave
me only time enough to say, "They have gone," when they rode rapidly
away. We came to the conclusion that they were young men visiting their
relatives and friends in Frederick and that the retreat was so sudden
that no word of warning could be sent them.

We realized the next day that the hasty departure of the Confederates
was timely, as the Union Army was encamped all around us. Some of the
officers came to see us and Mr. Gouverneur invited them to dine. This
was a period of sudden transitions, for that night the Union Army
retreated and the next day the Confederates were with us again, dining
upon the remnants of the meal left by their adversaries. It was all we
had to give them, as all our <DW52> servants, having been told that
they would be captured and taken further South, had fled upon hearing of
the second visit of the Confederates. This was naturally a trying
experience for me, as no servant except a Chinese maid was left upon the
place and I was in a strange locality. But luckily I found the last set
of officers pleasant and congenial and ready to make due allowance for
all household deficiencies. Several of them were natives of Loudoun
County, Virginia, and were familiar with our name, as they had lived
near Oak Hill, the estate of Mr. Gouverneur's grandfather, where my
husband had passed a portion of his early life. We soon learned that
country life during war times without satisfactory servants was much
more than either Mr. Gouverneur or I had sufficient courage or strength
to bear. This state of affairs resulted in my husband going to New York,
where he secured a family of Irish immigrants consisting of a woman and
three men. The relative positions of the two armies in our general
vicinity had meanwhile shifted several times and we never knew from day
to day whether we were destined to greet friend or foe.

On the particular morning of which I am about to speak, the Confederates
were again with us. They were apparently unacquainted with the
topography of the surrounding country and were naturally desirous of
securing such information as should enable them, in case of necessity,
to effect a speedy and secure retreat. We received an early call from
several of their officers who inquired the way to the "Alms House Road."
We had been so busily engaged in trying to settle ourselves down under
such adverse circumstances that we knew actually nothing of the
surrounding country; and, when Mr. Gouverneur informed our visitors of
this fact, they looked at one another in such a decidedly incredulous
way as to convince us that they thought we were withholding information.
My husband finally sent for John Demsey, one of our Irish immigrants,
who had driven considerably around the adjacent country, and one of the
officers in a rather offensive manner renewed his query about the "Alms
House Road." To our chagrin, John's answer was, "I do not know;" and Mr.
Gouverneur, realizing that affairs were assuming a rather serious
aspect, said: "John, you do know; tell the officer at once." With true
Irish perspicacity he exclaimed: "Oh, sir, you mean the 'Poor House
road'--I know that;" and forthwith gave the desired information. In
anything but pleasant tones the Irish youth was told by the officers to
accompany them as guide, and the order was obeyed with both fear and
alacrity. Mr. Gouverneur then exacted from the commanding officer his
word of honor that the man be permitted to return, and remarked at the
same time, in an ironical manner, that if they continued to tear down
our fences and commit other depredations we should all of us know the
location of the Alms House.

At a much later period General Jubal A. Early's Army passed our door _en
route_, as at least he hoped, for Washington. General John B. Gordon
sent an orderly to our house with his compliments to ask for a map of
Frederick County, which we were unable to supply. All through the day
the Southern troops continued to march by, until, towards sunset, the
rear of the last column halted in front of our place. As we knew that a
battle was imminent, we awaited the result with beating hearts and
anxious hopes. When the firing of cannon began we know that the battle
of the Monocacy had begun and were truly grateful that it was four miles
away! The battle was short and decisive and the Southern Army was
repulsed. The wounded soldiers were conveyed to Frederick, where
hospitals were improvised, and the dead were laid to rest in Mount
Olivet Cemetery, on the outskirts of the city. Both Northern and
Southern sympathizers became skilled nurses and their gentle
ministrations resulted in several instances in romantic attachments.
Among the young physicians left in Frederick to attend the wounded
soldiers was Doctor Robert S. Weir, who subsequently became
distinguished as a surgeon in New York City. While stationed at the
hospital in Frederick, he met a daughter of Robert G. McPherson, whom at
the conclusion of the war he married. Mrs. McPherson was Miss Milicent
Washington, who was a direct descendant of Colonel Samuel Washington, a
younger brother of George Washington, and whose five wives are all
interred in the graveyard at the old family home, Harewood, in Jefferson
County, Virginia. Mrs. McPherson, one of whose ancestors was Miss Ann
Steptoe, who married Willoughby Allerton, was also a niece of "Dolly"
Madison.

Prior to the battle of the Monocacy I discovered that our house was
again surrounded by quite a number of Northern soldiers. This was an
usual occurrence, to be sure, but this time they were making such a
careful scrutiny of the premises that I was led to inquire of one of
them what object they had in view. To my utter dismay I was informed
that as our house was upon a hill they had selected it as "a position,"
and that our safest place was in the cellar. We soon realized the wisdom
of this retreat as shells began to fly around us from several directions
and with much rapidity. We spent the greater part of the day
underground, wondering all the while how long our involuntary
imprisonment would last, as these dark and dismal quarters were
naturally a great restraint upon the children and exceedingly depressing
to Mr. Gouverneur and myself.

Although Northern in our sentiments, we sometimes preferred the visits
of the Confederates to those of their adversaries, owing to the greater
consideration which we received from them. Upon the arrival of our own
soldiers, their first act was to search the house from garret to cellar.
At first I indignantly inquired their object and was curtly informed
that they were searching for "concealed rebels." I gradually tolerated
this mode of procedure until one morning when we were routed up at five
o'clock, and then I protested. The Union soldiers took it for granted
that, owing to the locality of our home, we were Southern sympathizers,
and accordingly at times seemed to do everything in their power to make
us uncomfortable. During those trying days I frequently recalled the
wise saying of Marechal Villars, "Defend me from my friends, I can
defend myself from my enemies." We noticed, however, a great difference
in the conduct of the various detachments of the Union Army with which
we came in contact. We always greeted the appearance of the 6th Army
Corps with much enthusiasm. It was composed of stalwart and sturdy
veterans of the regular Army; and I trust its survivors will accept my
humble tribute of respect and esteem. Very early in the morning of the
day following the departure of some members of this corps from
_Po-ne-sang_ a private appeared at one of our rear doors and inquired
when the troops had departed. He had been indulging in a sound sleep
under one of the broken fences and was wholly unconscious that his
comrades had moved away. He hesitated for some minutes as to the course
he should pursue and then hurried off toward Hagerstown. We subsequently
learned that he was shot at a point not far distant and were impressed
anew by the bloody horrors attending our Civil War.

General David Hunter made frequent visits to Frederick and his approach
was regarded with terror by those in sympathy with the Southern cause.
It was he who performed the unpleasant duty of sending persons suspected
of disloyalty further South, thereby often separating families. Many of
his victims were elderly people and it is difficult for me at this late
day to describe the amount of distress these orders occasioned. I
remember one case particularly well, that of Dr. John Thomas McGill, a
practicing physician who, together with his wife, was ordered to proceed
immediately. Mrs. McGill was in very delicate health and the fright
caused by such summary proceedings, which by the way were not carried
out, tremendous Union influences having been brought to bear, resulted
in death. Many years after the war I attended a supper party at the home
of Judge and Mrs. John Ritchie, when the guests drifted into war
reminiscences. Dr. McGill was present and, as the conversation
progressed, he was so overcome by his emotion that an apoplectic stroke
was feared.

During the numerous visits of the Confederate army to Frederick County,
General "Joe" Johnston became a great favorite and for some time made
his headquarters in the city of Frederick. I learned from Colonel
William Richardson, a beloved citizen of that place, that the General
was especially solicitous concerning the welfare of the men under his
command. One day, for example, he found one of his soldiers eating raw
persimmons and at once reproved him for partaking of such unsuitable
food. The soldier explained that he was adapting his stomach to the
character of his rations. Although we did not see Stonewall Jackson's
troops pass on their march to Frederick, we were aware of their presence
there. Barbara Frietchie, whom Whittier has immortalized, lived in a
small house on West Patrick Street, adjoining Carroll Creek, but whether
she ever waved a Union flag as Stonewall Jackson's men were passing is a
question concerning which opinions differ. Southern sympathizers deny
it, while persons of Northern sentiments living in Frederick assert that
the verses of the Quaker poet represent the truth. At any rate, a woman
with such a name "lived and moved and had her being" in that city. She
was interred in the burying ground of the German Reformed Church, and
frequently pilgrimages are made to her grave, over which floats a Union
flag not far from where

    The clustered spires of Frederick stand
    Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.

I may state, in passing, that it was during the Civil War that the word
"shoddy" was coined. It was originally used to designate a class of
inferior goods intended for use in the army from the sale of which many
fortunes were made. Later the word was employed to designate those who
used such goods; and thus, by extension, one heard not only of "shoddy
people," but also of "shoddy parties," "shoddy clothes," and so on.

We heartily shared in the rejoicings of the North when General Lee
surrendered. In our country home we had lived in an actual condition of
camp life so long that at its conclusion I remarked to my husband in a
jocular vein that I was prepared for a life with the Comanches! We
restored our damaged fences, dug up our silver which had been buried
many months under a tree in the garden, and Mr. Gouverneur began to turn
his attention to agriculture. Our farm was among the finest in Frederick
County, which is usually regarded as one of the garden spots of the
country. Our social relations had been entirely suspended, as the
distractions attending the war had kept us so actively employed; but
that was now a past episode and we began making pleasant acquaintances
from Frederick and the surrounding country. Among our first visitors
were Judge and Mrs. William P. Maulsby; Richard M. Potts and his
brother, George Potts; Mr. and Mrs. Charles E. Trail; the Rev. Dr. and
Mrs. George Diehl and their daughter Marie, who in subsequent years
endeared herself to the residents of Frederick; Mrs. John McPherson and
her daughter, Mrs. Worthington Ross; Dr. and Mrs. Fairfax Schley; Judge
and Mrs. John Ritchie; Mr. and Mrs. Jacob M. Kunkel; and the Rev.
Marmaduke Dillon-Lee, an Englishman who had served in the British Army
and at this time was the rector of All Saints Episcopal Church in
Frederick. He had been selected for this pulpit on account of his
neutral political views and we found in him a congenial acquaintance. He
remained in Frederick, however, for only a short period after the war
and was succeeded by the deservedly beloved Rev. Dr. Osborne Ingle, who,
after a pastorate of nearly half a century, recently passed to his
reward. I can not pass this Godly man by without an encomium to his
memory. He came to Frederick as a very young man and throughout his long
rectorship he was truly a leader of his flock and, like the "Good
Shepherd of Old," the sheep knew him and loved him.

It did not take long for Mr. Gouverneur and me to discover that neither
of us was adapted to a country life under the conditions prevailing at
the close of the War--so very different from those existing in that
locality at a later period. He knew nothing of practical farming and I
knew nothing of practical cooking. Although I was never entirely without
domestic service, as I always had with me the Chinese maid whom I had
brought from the East, we were not fitted, at the best, for such a life.
The result was that after one winter's experience we made _Po-ne-sang_
only our summer home. During the trials and tribulations of that distant
winter I often recalled a remark which Lord Chesterfield is said to have
made to several persons whom he disliked: "I wish you were married and
settled in the country." It has even been asserted that, in his
absentmindedness and excitement incident to encountering an infuriated
cow, he addressed the beast with the same words. This was a favorite
anecdote of General Scott, and it appealed to me then as well as now, as
I regard country life a forlorn fate for all women excepting possibly
those who are endowed with large wealth with which to gratify every
passing whim.

The primitive life we led at _Po-ne-sang_ was full of annoyances and
discouragements. For example, we had no running water in our house and
were supposed to supply ourselves from a cistern in the yard which had
contracted the bad habit of running dry and for inconvenient periods
remaining so. We were therefore compelled to carry all our water from a
neighbor's spring at least a quarter of a mile away. We tried to remedy
this defect by boring an artesian well, but all our attempts were
unsuccessful. Country life was distasteful to cooks as they preferred to
live in a city where they could make and mingle with friends, and I soon
learned that if I wanted to keep a servant I must hire one who had a
baby, and that is just what I did. Although country life was distasteful
to her, too, she took her dose of medicine because she could not help
herself as no one else would employ her. Often these babies were a
source of great care to me, as their mothers would neglect
them--sometimes from ignorance but more frequently from sheer
indifference. I remember one cook whose baby, owing to the lack of
proper attention, was actually in danger of starving to death. She kept
it in a wooden box under a tree in the garden, and I was obliged at
stated intervals to see that the child was fed.

During our summers at _Po-ne-sang_ our servants made both hard and soft
soap in a large kettle which swung from an iron tripod in the yard. They
also made apple and peach butter, a German marmalade that was highly
regarded in that section of the country. The apples or peaches were
allowed to cook slowly all day in a kettle suspended from the tripod and
were stirred by wooden paddles, whose handles were long enough to enable
them to be worked at a convenient distance from the fire. In making this
marmalade, cider was regarded as an important ingredient and the sugar
was seldom added until the last. Mr. Gouverneur experimented somewhat in
wine making. His success was almost phenomenal and we enjoyed the fruits
of his labor for many years. He used Catawba grapes entirely, which were
brought to our door in wagon-loads by the country folk who surrounded
us.

The Maryland mountaineers, as I knew them, were very similar in life and
character to those in North Carolina, of whom more or less has been
written the last few years. They had peculiar customs as well as quaint
modes of action and expression, and invented names for things and
conditions to suit themselves. I remember, for example, that when
persons showed signs of physical illness and the exact nature of their
maladies was uncertain they were said to have "the gobacks." Frederick
County was settled by the early Germans and many of their expressions
are still in vogue. A peach dried whole with the seed retained is
called a _hutzel_, and dried apples are _snitz_. In this connection I am
reminded of a German family named House, which resided in Frederick and
consisted of four maiden sisters. Their means were limited and they eked
out their living by stamping from original designs and taking in plain
sewing. Their front door was always locked and bolted, and to reach the
inmates it was necessary to pass through a gate leading into a long
alley and thence through a scrupulously clean kitchen and up the steep
and narrow back stairs to a small rear room, where sat these four
spinsters. The first one who met you said, "Good-morning," and the
others repeated the salutation in turn until the last one was reached,
who simply said, "Morning." This laughable procedure was followed in
their subsequent conversation, for one of them had only to lead off with
a remark and the others repeated the close of it. It is said that
Crissie, the youngest of the quartette, once had a beau with whom she
sat each night for many years in their prim parlor and that, when he
finally jilted her, one of her sisters was heard to remark, _apropos_ of
the broken engagement: "Just think of all them candles wasted!"

The second winter of our Maryland life was spent at a hotel in Frederick
where we formed a lasting friendship with our fellow boarders, Judge and
Mrs. John A. Lynch. With my historical as well as social tastes, I found
the McPherson household a source of great pleasure and intellectual
profit to me. I knew Mrs. "Fanny" McPherson, as she was invariably
called, only as an elderly woman who retained all the graces and charms
of youth. To listen to her tales of bygone days was a pleasure upon
which I even yet delight to dwell. She lived to a very great age
surrounded by her children, her grandchildren and her
great-grandchildren, and went to her grave beloved by all. She was the
granddaughter of Thomas Johnson, the first Governor of Maryland. I
remember reading on one occasion a letter which she took great pride in
showing me, written to her grandfather by Washington, offering him the
position of Secretary of State in his cabinet. This flattering offer he
declined, but to him is said to belong the honor of having nominated
Washington as Commander in Chief of the Army.

Mrs. McPherson was nearly related to Mrs. John Quincy Adams, who was
Louisa Catharine Johnson of this same Maryland family, and, as she was
an occasional visitor at the White House during her relative's residence
there, she mingled with many prominent people. I recall a weird story
she once told me in connection with a daughter of Smith Thompson,
Secretary of the Navy under President Monroe. It seems she married the
Viscount Paul Alfred de Bresson, the third Secretary of the French
Embassy in Washington, and subsequently many elaborate entertainments
were given in her honor in Washington. She returned with her husband to
Europe and several months later her family received the announcement of
her death. As they had only recently received a letter from her, when
apparently she was in the best of health and spirits, they felt somewhat
skeptical and wrote at once for more definite information. A few weeks
later a package reached them containing her heart preserved in alcohol.
Mrs. McPherson's older daughter, Mrs. Worthington Ross, lived with her
mother and ministered with loving hands to her wants in her old age,
while the remainder of her life was devoted to unselfish labor in her
Master's vineyard. Her memory, as well as that of her only child, Fanny
McPherson Ross, who passed onward and upward before her, is still
revered in Frederick.

Mr. Gouverneur and I also formed a pleasant acquaintance with Rev. Dr.
John McElroy, whose remarkable career in the Catholic Church is well
worthy of notice. Coming to this country as a mere lad, he engaged in
mercantile pursuits in Georgetown, D.C., and when about sixteen years
of age became a lay Jesuit and in 1817 entered the priesthood. After
ministering to Trinity church in Georgetown for several years, he was
transferred, at the request of Chief Justice Roger B. Taney, to
Frederick, where he built St. John's church, a college, an academy, an
orphan asylum, and the first free school in the city. After remaining
there for twenty-three years and establishing a reputation for devotion
to his church and rare executive ability that made him one of the most
useful Jesuits in the country, he was sent back to his old church in
Georgetown and the following year went to the Mexican War as Chaplain in
the regiment commanded by Caleb Cushing. During our occasional
conversations it seemed to afford him more than usual pleasure to
discuss with me the ability of his distinguished military chief. After
the war he was sent to Boston, where he became pastor of St. Mary's
church, and built the Boston College and the Church of the Immaculate
Conception. At the age of ninety, he became blind and retired to the
scene of his early labors in Frederick, where, as the oldest Jesuit in
the world, he died in the fall of 1877. I remember meeting him one day
on the street when he proudly announced that it was his birthday and
that he was sixty-nine years of age. I knew him to be much older, and my
words of astonishment evidently revived his senses for, realizing that
he had reversed his figures, he corrected himself by adding, "I mean
ninety-six." At that time he was quite active, considering his extreme
age, and to the close of his life was much respected and beloved by the
residents of Frederick, irrespective of creed. I attended his funeral
and he was laid to rest in the burying ground of the old Novitiate which
he founded. It was then that I saw for the first time the grave of Chief
Justice Roger B. Taney. The two-story brick house in Frederick in which
he lived is still standing, but it would be regarded with contempt by
any of the present Justices of the Supreme Court of the United States.
But how natural, for how changed are the times! In an eloquent address
subsequent to Taney's death, Charles O'Conor concluded with these words:
"May the future historian in writing of Judge Roger B. Taney sorrowfully
add, _Ultimus Romanorum_."

Francis Scott Key, the author of "The Star-Spangled Banner," is also
buried in Frederick soil. For many years his remains reposed in an
unnoticed grave in Mount Olivet Cemetery but, through the efforts of the
citizens of Frederick, and especially of its women, an imposing monument
now towers above him surmounted by a superb male figure with
outstretched arms. While living in Maryland I frequently met Chief
Justice Salmon P. Chase at the residence of Mrs. Margaret Goldsborough,
and was much impressed by his imposing presence and courtly bearing.
Many years before, he had been a tutor in the Frederick College, which
still survives and whose walls bear the inscription "1797." Mrs.
Goldsborough was a lifelong resident of Frederick and a woman of a high
degree of intelligence. Her daughter, Miss Mary Catharine Goldsborough,
I always numbered among my most cherished friends.

After a pleasant sojourn of a number of months in Frederick, we went to
spend the summer at _Po-ne-sang_, where we had the satisfaction of
entertaining quite a number of old friends, among whom was the Hon.
Lafayette S. Foster, then Vice-President _pro tempore_ of the United
States. Maryland was a familiar as well as a cherished State to him, as
in early life he had been a tutor in Centerville on the "Eastern Shore."
Mr. Foster's visit was decidedly uneventful to him, as he was there
entirely unheralded and without even a newspaper notice to announce his
coming and going.




CHAPTER XIV

VISIT TO THE FAR SOUTH AND RETURN TO WASHINGTON


In the autumn of the same year I decided to make a long anticipated
visit to Mrs. John Still Winthrop in Tallahassee, whose marriage in
Gramercy Park I had attended so many years ago and which I have already
described. My two younger children accompanied me, but my oldest
daughter I left behind under her father's protecting care at the Misses
Vernon's boarding school in Frederick. This period seemed especially
suitable for such a long absence, as the whole time and attention of Mr.
Gouverneur was engrossed in editing for publication a posthumous work of
James Monroe, which was subsequently published by the Lippincotts under
the title, "The People the Sovereigns." We sailed from New York and
stopped _en route_ in Savannah to enable me to see my old friend and
schoolmate, Mrs. William Neyle Habersham. Sherman in his "March to the
Sea" had passed through Georgia, carrying with him destruction and
devastation, and the suffering which this and other campaigns of the war
had brought into the homes of these Southern people it would be
difficult to describe. The whole South seemed to be shrouded in
mourning, as nearly everyone I met had given up to the "Lost Cause" a
husband or a son, and in some cases both. Two gallant sons of the
Habershams, mere boys, had died upon the same battlefield, and when I
saw Mr. Habersham for the first time after the war he was so overcome
with grief that he was obliged to leave the room. Talented to an unusual
degree and possessing much fortitude, his wife fought bravely for the
sake of her dear ones still spared her, but every now and then her
sorrow asserted itself anew and seemed more than her bleeding soul could
bear. She was especially gifted with her pen, and about ten years after
the war, while her heart was still wrung with grief, she wrote the
following pathetic lines:--

     Up above, the Pines make sweet music; sad, plaintive, for
     must there not be a tone of "infinite sadness" in all the
     places of Earth's finite gladness? From a spray of jessamine
     I hear the chirp of a little bird--a young beginner; it
     tries over and over again "its one plain passage of few
     notes"--the prelude to the full-voice anthem which summer
     will harmonize. Ah! what shades and sunlight! what coloring!
     Green in the grass and trees, blue in the violets and sky,
     gray in the moss, yellow in the jessamines, falling around
     in a perfect Danaean shower of burnished gold! My truant
     fancy sees all this--and more! A dear hand that held mine, a
     "pure hand," a boy's hand, that ere many summers had spread
     out their gorgeous pageantry had drawn the sword for that
     dear summer-land of the jessamine and pine--had drawn the
     sword and dropped it; dropped it from the earnest, vigorous
     clasp of glorious young manhood to lie still and calm,
     life's duty nobly done; ah, a short young life but ... and
     then the other young soldier! for is not my sorrow a twin
     sorrow? Can they be dissevered? In death they were not
     divided. My eyes grow dim. Wipe away the mist, poor mother!
     to see the dear faces of sons and daughters gracing the
     board. Let the blue of the violets breathe to thee rather of
     endless skies and an eternal Heaven, where earth's finite
     sadness is beautified into infinite gladness.

We finally reached Tallahassee, where we found the most cordial welcome
awaiting us. Mrs. Winthrop lived in the very heart of the city but our
surroundings were much more beautiful than I can describe, for the
orange trees and hyacinths and jessamine in full bloom and other wealth
of semi-tropical vegetation were suggestive of an earthly Paradise.
Since we last met my hostess had become a widow, but fortunately she and
her only son, who was then just emerging into manhood, had not felt the
personal vicissitudes of the struggle, as they had taken refuge in the
mountains of North Carolina. Before the war the Winthrops had owned
hundreds of slaves and most of them, in a state of freedom, were still
living in quarters only a short distance from the house and were working
on her plantations just as though the war had not made them free. But
both among those who suffered from the war and those who escaped its
ravages the unfriendly feeling entertained at this time against their
Northern brethren was naturally intense. I remember that one Sunday
morning a young son of Mrs. Custis, who with his mother was then an
inmate of the Winthrop household, asked his mother, who had just
returned from the early service of the Episcopal Church, whether "the
'Yankees' went up to the same communion table with the Southern people."

During my Tallahassee life I made the acquaintance of Madame Achille
Murat, who lived in an old mansion outside of the city limits. She was
Miss Catharine A. Willis of Virginia, and a great-grandniece of General
Washington. Upon her marriage to Achille Murat he took her abroad, where
she was received with much distinction on account of her Washington
blood. Then, too, her marriage into such an illustrious French family
was an open sesame to the most exclusive circles of society. She was an
elderly woman when I met her, but her conversation abounded with the
most interesting reminiscences of her life in France. She died in the
summer of 1867. Achille Murat was the son of Joachim Murat, the great
Marshal of Napoleon, whose sister Caroline he married and became King of
Naples. Many years later his two sons came to this country. One of them
settled in Bordentown in New Jersey, and Achille Murat, after his
marriage to his Virginia bride, became a resident of Florida. Madame
Murat told me of some of the visits she made to France when the voyage
was long and tedious. She had many articles of _vertu_ around her, and I
especially recall a superb marble bust by Canova of her mother-in-law,
Queen Caroline. I expressed surprise at the extreme attractiveness of
the late Queen, as I had always understood that the Princess Pauline,
Napoleon's other sister, was the family beauty. Madame Murat, however,
told me I was mistaken and that her royal mother-in-law was, in that
respect, quite the equal of her sister.

During my acquaintance with Madame Murat, Napoleon III. was on the
throne of France, and I learned from our many friendly chats that her
relations with her distinguished kinspeople were of the most cordial
character; and I am informed that for many years the Emperor gave her an
annuity. Hanging in her drawing-room, whose contents were replete with
historic association, were two handsome portraits of the Emperor and
Empress of France, which she called to my attention as recent gifts from
her royal relatives. That prince of hosts, Gouverneur Kemble, once told
me an amusing incident _apropos_ of Achille Murat's resourcefulness
under peculiar difficulties. On one occasion quite a number of foreign
guests appeared at the Frenchman's door and, although Florida is a land
"flowing with milk and honey," he was sorely perplexed to know what
would be "toothsome and succulent" to serve for their repast. Suddenly
an idea flashed upon him. He owned a large flock of sheep and, nothing
daunted, gave immediate orders to have the tips of their ears cut off.
These were served in due form, and his guests departed in total
ignorance of what they had eaten but fully convinced that America
produced the choicest of viands.

Upon one of her numerous visits to France, Madame Murat was accompanied
to the Louvre by Mr. Francis Porteus Corbin, a Virginian whose
contemporaries proudly asserted was an adornment to any court. While
they were engaged in viewing the works of art, Madame Murat was joined
by Jerome Bonaparte, to whom she formally presented Mr. Corbin. When the
opportunity arose Bonaparte inquired of his kinswoman who "the elegant
gentleman" was. The ready response was: "Mr. Corbin, of Virginia."
"Well," was the ejaculation, "I had no idea there was so much elegance
in America."

I think these pages will show that all through life I have had a decided
fancy for older men and women. I can hardly account for this taste
except by the fact that my predilections have always been of a decidedly
historical character. As another instance, I especially enjoyed my
meeting in the far South with Judge Thomas Randall, who made his home in
Tallahassee, but who was originally from Annapolis. He did not allow
advanced years to interfere with his social tastes, but frequently
accompanied us to parties, where his vivacity rendered him one of the
most acceptable of guests. Still another elderly gentleman with whom I
had the pleasure of becoming acquainted during this Southern sojourn was
Francis Wayles Eppes. He was the son of U.S. Senator John Wayles Eppes,
whose wife was Maria Jefferson, elder daughter of Thomas Jefferson. He
left Virginia many years prior to my acquaintance with him and settled
with several members of the Randolph family in Western Florida when it
was almost a wilderness.

I left with keen regret this picturesque land of flowers and stately
oaks, but duty called me home, as my husband and little daughter were
growing impatient over our long absence. It would seem that the
observance of timetables differed in those days according to localities
and other circumstances. I was informed that the train I should take
from Tallahassee would leave _about_ such and such a time; but upon my
inquiring in Savannah as to whether the ship upon which I proposed to
embark for Baltimore would leave on time, I was explicitly told by its
captain that if I were a minute late I should not be one of its
passengers.

After my return to Maryland, the home of our adoption, we abandoned the
idea of country life, sold our residence and took up our abode in
Frederick. My children were now reaching an age when education became an
important matter and I took advantage of the Frederick Female Seminary,
an institution that has since become a college, as an excellent place to
which to send my eldest daughter. It was during this period of
transition that it was my good fortune to meet for the first time the
wife of the Hon. Henry Gassaway Davis of West Virginia, who was a native
of Frederick and a daughter of Gideon Bantz. Her two older daughters,
Hallie, the widow of U.S. Senator Stephen B. Elkins, and Kate, who
subsequently became the wife of Robert M. G. Brown of the U.S. Navy,
were boarding pupils at the same school; and Mrs. Davis frequently
visited them while there. My daughters formed an intimate friendship
with Mrs. Brown, whom at a later day we often welcomed as a guest in our
Washington home. She has since passed "over the river," having survived
her mother for only a few months, and her memory is hallowed in my
family circle. Mrs. Elkins, the promising young girl of so many years
ago, is widely known in Washington and elsewhere for her womanly tact,
intelligence and fine presence. Grace, another of Mrs. Davis' daughters,
is now Mrs. Arthur Lee of Washington, but was born after my earlier
acquaintance with her mother in Frederick. Loved and admired, she
resides in Washington surrounded by an exclusive coterie, and devotes
much of her time and means to works of philanthropy.

The prominent authoress, Mrs. Elizabeth F. Ellet, was repeatedly our
guest while we were living in Frederick. A volume of her poems had
appeared as early as 1835, and she subsequently published quite a number
of books which were highly regarded. When she first came to visit us,
her "Women of the American Revolution" had just appeared and her journey
to Maryland was for the purpose of collecting data for a new work which
later was published under the title of "The Court Circles of the
Republic." Besides being a gifted writer, Mrs. Ellet had considerable
histrionic ability, and I have now before me an old newspaper clipping
containing an account of an entertainment given by me in her honor when
she recited from "Pickwick Papers", "Widow Bedott" and "The Lost Heir."
Another party at which music and recitations were a prominent feature
was given to Mrs. Ellet in Frederick by Mrs. Charles E. Trail, a gifted
woman who thoroughly appreciated intellectual accomplishments wherever
found.

My first acquaintance with the Hon. Joseph Holt, who at the time was
Judge Advocate General of the Army, began in Frederick in 1869. He was a
Kentuckian by birth and, after serving for a time as Postmaster General
under President Buchanan, succeeded, in 1860, John B. Floyd of Virginia
as Secretary of War. He made frequent visits to Frederick where he was
always the guest of the Rev. Dr. and Mrs. George Diehl. He was a typical
Kentuckian, over six feet tall, and in my opinion no one could have
known him well without being impressed by his intellectual ability.
After we returned to Washington to live, in 1873, Judge Holt was a
constant visitor at our home and I frequently attended handsome
entertainments given in his residence on Capitol Hill. Although I have
been in society more or less all of my life, I can say without hesitancy
that he more perfectly understood and practiced the art of
entertaining--it certainly _is_ an art, and possessed by but few--than
any other person I have ever known. His second wife, who was Miss
Margaret Anderson Wickliffe of Kentucky, had died in 1860 and, as he had
no children, he was living entirely alone.

From my earliest acquaintance with Judge Holt I was deeply impressed by
the cloud of sadness that seemed to envelop him, and I never learned
until I had known him many years and really called him my friend that he
was laboring under a deep sense of wrong and injustice. Without entering
into exhaustive details, the main facts are substantially these: In 1865
Mr. Holt was Judge Advocate General of the Army and as such was the
prosecuting officer before the Military Commission convened by order of
President Johnson for the trial of Mrs. Mary E. Surratt and others for
complicity in the assassination of Lincoln. The findings and sentence of
the Commission were accompanied by a recommendation signed by a majority
of its members in which they "respectfully pray the President, in
consideration of the sex and age of the said Mary E. Surratt, if he can,
upon all the facts in the case, find it consistent with his sense of
duty to the country, to commute the sentence of death, which the Court
have been constrained to pronounce, to imprisonment in the penitentiary
for life." This recommendation for executive clemency remained unknown
to the public until it was incidentally referred to by the Hon. Edwards
Pierrepont, counsel for the government in the trial of Mrs. Surratt's
son in 1867. This was followed in subsequent years, and after Andrew
Johnson had ceased to be President, by a controversy in which
reflections were made upon the personal and official integrity of Judge
Holt by the charge that he had never presented the recommendation for
clemency to the President. The matter finally sifted itself down to a
question of personal veracity between the ex-President and Judge Holt,
in which the latter affirmed that "he drew the President's attention
specially to the recommendation in favor of Mrs. Surratt, which he read
and freely commented on"; and was contradicted by the ex-President in
the assertion that "in acting upon her case no recommendation for a
commutation of her punishment was mentioned or submitted to me."

The enemies of Holt accordingly held him indirectly responsible for Mrs.
Surratt's execution, and against such a charge he naturally rebelled
until the day of his death. The most cruel feature of the whole affair,
however, and the one which probably did more than anything else to
sadden and becloud the remaining days of Judge Holt's life, was the
personal disloyalty of an eminent citizen of his own State, who had been
his intimate friend from youth. I refer to James Speed, Andrew Johnson's
Attorney General. In 1883, after most of the prominent actors in the
scene were dead and the animosities caused by the controversy were
largely allayed--at a time, too, when Holt realized that he was growing
old and recognized more keenly than ever the importance of leaving
behind a final refutation of the calumnies that had been heaped upon
him--he appealed to Speed, who, he believed he had reason to assume was
in possession of the exact facts of the case; but all that could be
wrung from him were evasive words to the effect that he saw the petition
for clemency in the President's office, without intimating whether it
was before or after Mrs. Surratt's execution, and that he did not "feel
at liberty to speak of what was said at cabinet meetings." An exchange
of letters followed between the two in which Speed excused himself for
six months on the pleas of bereavement and press of business, and that
he had lost his glasses, when he finally replied:--"After very mature
and deliberate consideration, I have come to the conclusion that I
cannot say more than I have said." It is no wonder, then, that Holt,
driven to desperation by such treatment, wrote to Speed:--"Your
forbearance towards Andrew Johnson, of whose dishonorable conduct you
have been so well advised, is a great mystery to me. With the stench of
his baseness in your nostrils you have been all tenderness for him,
while for me ... you have been as implacable as fate."

While spending the summer of 1888 in Princeton, Massachusetts, I read in
the _North American Review_ for July of the same year the correspondence
relating to the Surratt question between Holt and Speed in 1883. Knowing
Judge Holt as I did, having firm faith in his version of the
controversy, believing him to be a victim of gross injustice and
realizing withal how keenly through all these years he had felt the
sting of misrepresentation, I wrote him a lengthy letter. It was not
long before I received his reply, and I copy it here, as I believe it
casts an additional sidelight upon a subject which caused this brilliant
and high-minded gentleman bitter suffering from which he never wholly
recovered. I add several more letters written to me by him which are
beautiful in expression but pathetic in character.

     WASHINGTON, August 26th, 1888.

     Mrs. M. Gouverneur,

     My dear Madam:

     Your kind letter of the 14th instant was quite a surprise,
     but a very agreeable one I assure you. My reply has been
     thus long delayed from an impression that it would probably
     more certainly reach your hands if addressed to you at
     Frederick.

     I have read and re-read your letter with increasing
     gratification and thankfulness. Truly am I grateful for the
     friendly spirit that prompted you to make so thorough an
     examination of the Speed correspondence as your _resume_ of
     it discloses. That _resume_ is in every way admirable. It
     has the clearness and logical force of a first-class
     lawyer's brief. Indeed, I was on the point of asserting that
     you have a good lawyer's head on your shoulders, but prefer
     saying that you have a head which obeying the inspirations
     of your heart enables you to discern and _appreciate_ the
     truth and extricate it, as well, from the entanglements of
     chicanery and fraud. Be assured, my dear Madam, that I shall
     treasure up your letter fondly, at once as a consolation and
     as a powerful support of the endeavors which I have been
     making for years to rescue my name from the obloquy of an
     accusation, than which nothing falser or fouler ever fell
     from the lips of men or devils.

     It was a severe shock for my faith in human nature when
     General Speed--with whom I had maintained relations of
     cordial friendship for some fifty years--suddenly allowed
     himself to become a compliant coadjutor of Andrew Johnson in
     his diabolical plot to destroy me. The _role_ of suppressing
     the truth, which he voluntarily assumed for himself and in
     which--without explanation or defense--he persisted down to
     his grave, amounted fully to this and to nothing less. Yet
     during all of that time he _knew_ me to be innocent, as well
     as I myself knew and know it, and this he never denied.
     Alas, Alas! what a masquerade is human life, and amid its
     heady currents how rarely do we pause to think of the
     possibilities that lurk under the disguise of its spotless
     reputations!

     I should be rejoiced to hear that the Summer has strewed
     flowers and only flowers on the paths of your "outing," and
     that you will be able to return to Washington glad of heart
     and reinvigorated for the social duties in which you find
     and bestow so much pleasure. For my own isolated and infirm
     life home was thought to be the best place, and hence I have
     remained here happily finding under my own roof a
     contentment that has left me without envy of those whose
     more fortunate feet have sought the seashore and the
     mountain <DW72>s. You yourself, however, acted wisely and
     well in going away, since the world is still pressing to
     _your_ lips the sparkling cups, which for my own are now but
     a dim, receding memory.

     I congratulate you on Miss Rose's approaching marriage which
     you have been so good as to announce, and sincerely hope
     that all the bright visions which the coming event must be
     awakening will have an abounding fulfilment. The invitation
     with which you have honored me is accepted with thanks, and
     I shall attend the ceremony with the higher gratification,
     realizing as I shall how closely your own happiness is bound
     up with that of your daughter.[3]

          Faithfully and gratefully your friend,

               J. HOLT.

       *       *       *       *       *

     WASHINGTON, Nov. 3d, 1888.

     My dear Mrs. Gouverneur:

     I am in receipt of your very welcome letter of the 1st
     instant and hasten to send the "Index" as requested. Hope it
     may be of service in illustrating and supporting your
     application. I shall preserve the Admiral's [Rear Admiral
     Francis A. Roe, U.S.N.] emphatic words as a cherished
     testimonial. The language of Mrs. Stanard is also very
     grateful to me. Her favorable opinion is the more prized and
     precious because she has known me so long and so well.

     And now, my dear good friend, how can I sufficiently thank
     you for your generous interest in this trouble of
     mine--which has been a thorn in my life for so many
     years--and for your surpassingly kind offices which have
     been so effectively exercised in connection with it? Be
     assured that while my poor words cannot adequately express
     it, my heart will always throb with gratitude for the tokens
     of good will with which you have so honored and gladdened
     me.

     I feel much complimented by so early a receipt of the
     invitation to Miss Rose's wedding, and I shall have great
     joy in being present.

       *       *       *       *       *

          Faithfully yours,

               J. HOLT.

       *       *       *       *       *

     WASHINGTON, D.C., January 21st, 1891.

     Dear Mrs. Gouverneur:

     I regret to be obliged to acknowledge the receipt of your
     welcome letter by the hand of another, owing to the
     condition of my eyes. For many weeks their inflammation has
     prevented me from reading or writing, and I fear that this
     condition will continue for a good while to come. So soon as
     I am able to do so I will either write or have the pleasure
     of calling on you. In the meanwhile believe me most grateful
     for your letter which, however, has been but imperfectly
     read. The darkened chambers of my life never had more need
     than at present of the sunshine which your sympathizing
     letters have always brought me.

          Very sincerely yours,

               J. HOLT.

       *       *       *       *       *

     WASHINGTON, D.C., Jan. 26th, 1893.

     Dear Mrs. Gouverneur:

     Your last two letters have been received and I thank you
     heartily for them. As tokens of your continued friendly
     remembrance they are precious to me. I am much obliged for
     the privilege of reading the letter of Mrs. Vance [Mrs.
     Zebulon B. Vance], which is herewith returned. It is another
     of the many indications I have had of the subtle and wide
     spread circulation given to the Johnson-Speed calumny to
     which you refer. It seems to me that the poison is beyond
     the reach of any human antidote, and that I must look to God
     alone for shelter from it. Your generous and effective good
     offices in this matter, so deeply affecting my reputation
     and happiness, have filled my heart with an enduring
     gratitude.

     Your unflagging solicitudes, too, for my poor waning life
     have much added to that debt of gratitude, great as it was
     and is. Let the good Lord be praised for ever and ever that
     spirits such as yours have been born into the world.

     I am obliged to address you in this brief and unsatisfactory
     manner by the hand of another. After two years and a half of
     continued treatment I have as yet received no relief
     whatever, nor do the eminent physicians who have treated me
     afford me any encouragement for the future. While the world
     feasts, it is evident that _my_ lot is and must be _ashes_
     for _bread_.

     Hoping that you are drinking yourself freely from the
     fountain of happiness you open for others, I remain

          Very sincerely your friend,

               J. HOLT.

       *       *       *       *       *

     WASHINGTON, D.C., April 12, 1893.

     My dear good friend:

     I regret much to be obliged to communicate with you by the
     hand of another, but my poor life seems to be fixed by fate
     on the down grade, and at present there is no encouragement
     to believe that the future has anything better in store for
     me.

     I send you a number of the North American Review containing
     the correspondence to which you refer between General Speed
     and myself. In it there is also a detached printed letter of
     Colonel Brown which is important. And I must ask that both
     this letter and the number of the Review be carefully
     preserved and after their perusal by your friend be returned
     to me, as I have no other copies and wish to preserve these.
     I am sorry that the sad circumstances of my condition
     prevent me from thanking you in person for your continued
     interest in my reputation which has been so basely assailed,
     but I trust as triumphantly vindicated.

     I thank you sincerely for what you have said of Mrs. Kearny.
     It would be a great gratification to me to have an interview
     with her on the long, long ago, but this is a pleasure which
     I now have no encouragement to promise myself.

     Believe me most grateful for the repeated calls and
     inquiries as to my health which you have been so good as to
     make. Such calls are precious fountains of consolation that
     will not go dry.

          Very sincerely your friend,

               J. HOLT.

It has been asserted upon high authority that after the conviction and
sentence of Mrs. Surratt her daughter Anna, as well as Catholic priests
and prominent men in Washington, attempted to see the President in order
to intercede for executive clemency in her behalf, but were denied
admission by Preston King, Collector of the Port of New York and then a
guest at the White House, and by U.S. Senator James Lane of Kansas. It
has also been said that Mrs. Stephen A. Douglas succeeded in reaching
the President by pushing herself past the guards, but her attempts in
behalf of the condemned woman were fruitless.

I knew Preston King very well and his political career interested me
deeply. He was from St. Lawrence County, New York, and in my girlhood I
often heard it asserted that the mantle of Silas Wright had fallen upon
him. I saw much of him in 1849 when I was visiting the Scotts in
Washington, and was particularly impressed by his exceptionally
sensitive nature. General Scott once told me that at one period of his
military career he was ordered to quell a disturbance between Canadians
and Americans near Ogdensburg, the home of Mr. King, and that the latter
was so seriously affected by the scenes he witnessed at that time that
it was long before he recovered his normal condition of mind. During
President Johnson's administration Mr. King, while Collector of the Port
of New York, boarded a Jersey City ferry boat one morning, attached
weights to his person and jumped into the river. When the news of his
death reached me I was not surprised as I had seen evidences of his
nervous temperament which might well result in acts indicative of an
unbalanced mind. He was a man of big heart and exceptional ability, and
in his death the State of New York lost one of her most gifted and
distinguished sons.

The Frederick County agricultural fairs, as far back as my memory of
that quaint Maryland town goes, have always been a feature of special
interest not only to the farmers of that productive region but also from
a social point of view. In bygone days some of the most distinguished
men of the nation made addresses at these "cattle shows," as they were
called by the country folk. I recall the visit of President Grant on one
of these occasions when he was the guest of Mrs. Margaret Goldsborough.
He was accompanied by General Sherman and made a brief address. The
evening of the day these distinguished guests arrived Mrs. Goldsborough
gave a dinner in their honor, which Mr. Gouverneur and I attended. The
entertainment was served in the style then prevalent among old Maryland
families in that vicinity, the _pieces de resistance_ being chicken,
fried to perfection, at one end of the table together with an old ham on
the opposite end. To these were added "side trimmings," enough to almost
bury the table under their weight. President Grant was then filling his
first term as Chief Executive of the nation and, although Mr. Gouverneur
had known him in Mexico, it was my first glimpse of the distinguished
man. As a whole we were a merry party, but Grant was a reticent guest.
General Sherman, however, as usual made up for all deficiencies in this
line, and as he sat next to me I found him to be a highly agreeable
conversationalist. This dinner party proved a great social success and
at its conclusion a number of prominent citizens called to pay their
respects to the guests of honor.

The next year Horace Greeley was the orator of the day at the Frederick
fair, and it fell to our lot to entertain him. He wrote the following
letter to my husband:--

     NEW YORK TRIBUNE, New York, Oct. 1, 1871.

     Dear Sir:

     I expect to be duly on hand to fulfil my engagement to speak
     at your County Fair and to stop with you, if that shall be
     agreeable to those who have invited me. Will you please see
     Mr. C. H. Keefer who invites me and say to him that I am
     subject to his order and, with his consent, I shall gladly
     accept your invitation.

          Yours,

               HORACE GREELEY.

     S. L. Gouverneur, Esq.,
     Frederick, Maryland.

As Mr. Greeley about this time was appearing upon the political horizon
as a prospective presidential candidate, much interest was naturally
centered in his visit. His appearance was decidedly interesting. He was
of the blond type, past middle life and in dress anything but _a la
mode_. I am no student of physiognomy, but if the question had been
asked I should have said that his most prominent trait of character was
benevolence. He wore during this memorable visit the characteristic
white hat, miniature imitations of which during his presidential
candidacy became a campaign badge. I am the fortunate possessor of two
of these souvenirs. They are made of white metal and are attached to
brown ribbons, the color of the latter standing for B. Gratz Brown, the
candidate for Vice-President upon the Greeley ticket.

This visit was the pleasing forerunner of a sincere friendship between
my husband and Horace Greeley. In our intimate association of a few days
we recognized as never before his conscientious purpose and intellectual
power, and Mr. Gouverneur was so deeply impressed by his remarkable
ability and sterling character that later in the same year he started a
newspaper in Frederick, which he called _The Maryland Herald_, with a
view of advocating his nomination for the Presidency. My husband had
never before been especially interested in politics, but he now entered
the political arena with all the enthusiasm of his intense nature, and,
at a mass meeting in Frederick, was chosen a delegate to the National
Liberal Republican Convention in Cincinnati, which resulted in the
nomination of Greeley and Brown. Although this party was largely
composed of Republicans who had become dissatisfied with the Grant
administration, it will be remembered that its candidates were
subsequently endorsed by the Democratic party at its convention in
Baltimore, and that the fusion of such hitherto discordant political
elements added exceptional interest to the subsequent campaign. The
venerable Thomas Jefferson Randolph, grandson of the author of the
Declaration of Independence, although he had reached the advanced age of
eighty years, was chosen as the temporary chairman of the Baltimore
Convention. The proceedings of the Cincinnati delegates were replete
with interest and the enthusiasm was intense. During the uproarious
demonstration in the convention hall, immediately following Greeley's
nomination, Mr. Gouverneur's friend, John Cochrane of New York, of whom
I have spoken elsewhere, in the excitement of the moment gave expression
to his delight in an Indian war dance, and other usual scenes of boyish
hilarity prevailed.

My husband's paper had been the first of the Maryland press, and long
before the Convention, to place the name of Greeley at the head of its
columns, but others followed, and for a time the movement, both in that
State and elsewhere, appeared to gain strength and to assume formidable
proportions. Subsequent events, however, proved that it would have been
better if the newborn babe had been strangled at its birth, as it was
destined to enjoy but a brief and precarious existence. Although the
movement commanded the support of the united Democracy and enlisted the
active sympathies of able men from the Republican ranks--such as Carl
Schurz, Whitelaw Reid, Charles A. Dana, Charles Francis Adams, Lyman
Trumbull, David Davis, Andrew G. Curtin and many more--the voice of the
people pronounced for Grant, and in the latter part of the same month
that witnessed his defeat, poor Greeley died of a broken heart!

Greeley's defeat was a severe blow to Mr. Gouverneur. As the member from
Maryland of the national committee of the Liberal Republican Party, he
had engaged in the contest with his characteristic ardor, and his
strenuous but unsuccessful efforts had made inroads upon his health that
he could but ill afford. Under the circumstances, a change of scene and
employment seemed highly expedient, and we accordingly decided to break
up our attractive home in Frederick and return to Washington, where so
much of Mr. Gouverneur's life had been spent and where I, too, had so
many pleasant associations. It was in the summer of 1873 that this plan
was consummated, and we began our second Washington life in a house
which we bought on Corcoran Street, near Fourteenth Street. It was one
of a row of dwellings built as an investment by the late George W.
Riggs, the distinguished banker, and was in a portion of the city which
still abounded in vacant lots. Houses in our vicinity were so widely
scattered that we had an almost uninterrupted view of that part of the
District boundary which is now Florida Avenue. As these were the days of
horse cars, it was my habit to stand in my vestibule and wait for a car,
as I could see it approaching a long distance off, although we lived
half a block from the route, which was on Fourteenth Street. The entire
northwestern section of the city, which is now a semi-palatial region,
was also, at that time, largely a sea of vacant lots. The only house on
Dupont Circle was "Stewart Castle," and the fashionable part of the city
was still that portion below Pennsylvania Avenue, bounded on the east by
Seventeenth Street, although the general trend in the erection of fine
residences was towards the northwest. Many of the streets were not
paved, but the _regime_ of Alexander R. Shepherd, familiarly called
"Boss Shepherd," changed all of this, and the work of grading commenced.
It was a trying ordeal for property owners, as it left many houses high
in the air and others below the customary grade, while many from the
ranks of the poorer classes, unable to meet the necessary assessments,
were forced to part with their homes. In the course of several years,
however, the situation righted itself. Cellars were dug and English
basements became prevalent, and it is only occasionally that one now
sees a house far above the level of the street. We sometimes hear the
praises of Mr. Shepherd sung, and without a doubt he made Washington
the beautiful city it is to-day, but he accomplished it only at a
tremendous cost--the sacrifice of many homes. Next followed the paving
of the streets with wooden blocks; and I was much surprised when they
were being laid on Fourteenth Street, as I recalled the time during my
earlier days in New York when they were used in paving Broadway, and I
also well remember how speedily they degenerated and decayed. I was
told, however, that this form of block was an improvement upon the old
style, and was induced to believe it until I saw Fourteenth Street and
Pennsylvania Avenue masses of holes and ruts!

After we were fairly settled in our new home I made the pleasing
discovery that my next door neighbors were our old acquaintances, Mr.
and Mrs. Edmund Pendleton Gaines. Mrs. Gaines was Frances Hogan, a
former neighbor of ours in Houston Street in New York. William Hogan,
her aged father, was living with her, and their close proximity recalled
many early memories. He was a gentleman of broad culture and a
proficient linguist, and at an early age had accompanied his father to
the Cape of Good Hope. He formed an intimacy with Lord Byron at Harrow,
where he received the early portion of his education. Byron was not then
a student but was occupying a small room at Harrow, which he called his
"den." Another of Mr. Hogan's daughters, who is still living, wrote me
that at this time Lord Byron was a young man and her father a little
boy. She says: "Lord Byron often admitted my father to his room, when he
would make him repeat stories of his African life and describe the
occasional appearance of an orang-outang walking through the streets of
Cape Town." After his father's return to New York, Mr. Hogan attended
Columbia College, from which he was graduated in 1811, and afterwards
studied law. He subsequently purchased land in the Black River country
and did much to develop that portion of his native State. The town of
Hogansburg in Franklin County was named after him. He became a county
judge and member of Congress and later resided in Washington, where he
was employed in the Department of State, first as an examiner of claims
and then as an official interpreter.

A short distance from our home and on the same street lived Dr. and Mrs.
Alexander Sharp with their large and interesting family of children, one
of whom, bearing the same name as his father, recently died in
Washington while a Captain in the Navy. Dr. Sharp's wife was a younger
sister of Mrs. U. S. Grant, and her husband was ably filling at the time
the position of U.S. Marshal of the District of Columbia. A few doors
from Mrs. Sharp's lived her sister-in-law, the widow of Louis Dent; and
in the same block, but nearer Thirteenth Street, were the residences of
two agreeable Army families, Colonel and Mrs. Almon F. Rockwell and
Colonel and Mrs. Asa Bacon Carey, the latter of whom was the niece of
the late Senator Redfield Proctor of Vermont. I formed a pleasant
friendship almost immediately with Mrs. Sharp and was always received
with much cordiality in her home. Corcoran Street, in fact, from a
social point of view, proved to be an ideal locality until its
tranquillity was disturbed by the advent of Mr. ---- and family, the
former of whom was the Washington representative of a prominent New York
daily paper whose columns had been strongly denunciatory of Grant and
antagonistic to his election, while they abounded in praises of Greeley.
Both Mr. and Mrs. ----were persons of much culture, but they were
unfortunate in their selection of a home, as the personal and political
sentiment of the neighborhood was friendly to Grant, while his family
connections, the Dents and Sharps, residing in that part of the city,
were deservedly popular. My own position was one of much delicacy.
Although I was especially fond of Mrs. Dent and Mrs. Sharp, I could not,
in view of Mr. Gouverneur's active interest in the Greeley campaign, be
quite so enthusiastic over the Grant administration as were most of my
neighbors, and, therefore, when I was invited by a mutual friend to call
upon Mrs. ----I had no hesitation in doing so. I was taken to task for
my act, however, by some of my friends, but I survived the rebuke and am
still alive to tell the tale. I was told that, several months after the
family just referred to was established in its Corcoran Street home,
Mrs. ----was returning unaccompanied to her residence one evening, when
a <DW52> man, carrying a bucket of mud in one hand and a brush in the
other, ran after her and besmeared her clothing; but the Dents and
Grants were not of the class of people to approve of such a ruffianly
act, nor were any of the other decent residents in the community. If
Mrs. Sharp ever had any feeling in connection with my calling upon Mrs.
----, I never knew of it. Our relations were of the most cordial
character from the first, and when her niece, Nellie Grant, was married
to Algernon Sartoris she brought me a box of wedding cake, coupling with
it the remark that she knew of no one more entitled to it than
I--referring, I presume, to the associations connecting the Gouverneur
family with the White House. After the close of the Grant
administration, Dr. Sharp was appointed a paymaster in the Army and for
many years resided with his family in Yankton, Dakota. I remained in
touch with Mrs. Sharp, however, and for a long period we kept up an
active correspondence.

At this period Vice-Presidents were not so much _en evidence_ as later,
and Vice-President and Mrs. Schuyler Colfax lived quietly in Washington
and mingled but little in the social world. During his life at the
Capital, Mr. Colfax repeatedly delivered his eloquent oration on
Lincoln, which concluded with the lines of N. P. Willis on the death of
President William Henry Harrison:--

    Let us weep in our darkness, but weep not for him--
    Not for him who, departing, leaves millions in tears,
    Not for him who has died full of honor and years,
    Not for him who ascended Fame's ladder so high,
    From the round at the top he has stepped to the sky.

Directly back of us on Q Street lived an old and intimate friend of
mine, Mrs. Septimia Randolph Meikleham, the last surviving grandchild of
Thomas Jefferson. She was the widow of Dr. David Scott Meikleham of
Glasgow, who was a relative of Sir Walter Scott and died in early life
in New York. Mrs. Meikleham was the seventh daughter (hence her name
"Septimia," suggested by her grandfather) of Governor Thomas Mann
Randolph of Virginia and his wife Martha, the younger daughter of Thomas
Jefferson. She was born at Monticello and was familiarly known to her
intimate friends as "Tim," a name in surprising contrast with her
elegance and dignity. She bore a striking resemblance to her
grandfather, and, although a woman of commanding presence, was simple
and unaffected in manner. Strong in her convictions, attractive in
conversation and loyal in her friendships, she and her home were sources
of great delight to me, and it was pleasing to both of us that her
children and mine should have been brought into intimate contact. Mrs.
Meikleham and I often dwelt upon this family intimacy extending unbroken
from Jefferson and Monroe down to the fourth generation. In the same
block with Mrs. Meikleham lived Mr. and Mrs. John W. Douglas, the former
of whom, some years later, during the Harrison administration, was one
of the District Commissioners. A daughter of his is the wife of Henry B.
F. Macfarland, the late Senior Commissioner of the District, who, as
well as his wife, is universally respected and beloved in Washington. On
the same street, but on the other side of Fourteenth Street, Colonel and
Mrs. Robert N. Scott resided for many years; while just around the
corner, on Iowa Circle, in what was then a palatial home, lived Allan
McLane and his only child, Anne, who married from this house John
Cropper of New York. She is now a widow but lives in Washington, where
she is greatly beloved. In this same general region, on the corner of N
and Fourteenth Street, lived Lieutenant Commander (now Rear Admiral) and
Mrs. Francis J. Higginson, and the latter's attractive sister, Miss Mary
Haldane.

Not far from our dwelling on Corcoran Street lived the attractive wife
of _Monsieur_ Grimaud de Caux, _Chancelier_ of the French legation, who
left unfading memories behind her. During our many delightful chats I
was much interested in the accounts of her early life and experiences in
Ireland, and I especially recall many things she told me concerning the
members of the Wilde family, with whom she had been quite intimately
associated. I learned from her that Oscar Wilde inherited his aesthetic
tastes largely from his mother. She was a woman of unusual type and
habitually dressed in white--at a time, too, before white garments had
become so generally prevalent. I was also told that Oscar Wilde's father
was an oculist of some prominence, and that he built a mansion so
singular in its construction that the wits of Dublin called it "Wilde's
eye-sore."

Another of my intimate friends of those days was Mrs. Mary Donelson
Wilcox, widow of the Hon. John A. Wilcox, formerly Secretary of the U.S.
Senate, a Member of Congress and a veteran of the Mexican War. She was a
woman of rare intellectual ability, and subsequent to her husband's
death was for a time one of the official translators of the government.
She was the daughter of Colonel Andrew Jackson Donelson, a nephew of
President Jackson as well as his adopted son and private secretary.
General Jackson when President was a widower, and it was while Mrs.
Donelson was presiding as mistress of the White House that Mrs. Wilcox
was born. Her memory remained clear until her last illness, and her
recollections of prominent men and events, extending back to her
childhood, and especially those of her early life at the White House,
were of exceptional interest. I was especially amused by her account of
the prompt manner in which General Jackson sent her mother back to
Tennessee because she refused to accord social recognition to the wife
of General John H. Eaton, his Secretary of War. As is well known, this
was "Peggy O'Neal" who, before her marriage to Eaton, was the widow of
Purser John B. Timberlake of our Navy, who committed suicide while
serving in the Mediterranean. The relation which she sustained to the
disruption of Jackson's cabinet has passed into history and is too well
known to bear repetition here. As Colonel Donelson shared the views of
his wife, he resigned his position as the President's private secretary
and returned with her to Tennessee. He was succeeded by Nicholas P.
Trist of the State Department, but a few months later, through the
kindly offices of personal friends, they were both restored to Jackson's
favor and resumed their former functions in the White House.

Just across the street from our home lived Mr. and Mrs. Bernard P.
Mimmack and the latter's mother, Mrs. Mary Bailey Collins, widow of
Captain Charles Oliver Collins of the U.S. Army, and a typical
representative of the New York gentlewomen of former days. She was one
of the Bailey family, which was much identified with the history of New
York, and she and her daughter, Mrs. Mimmack, were valuable additions to
our community. Of Mr. Mimmack, only recently deceased, I can speak only
in terms of the warmest praise. He was a true friend to me and many
times during my widowhood placed his ripe judgment and wide experience
at my command.

As I first remember Professor and Mrs. Joseph Henry, they were living
with their three daughters in a portion of the Smithsonian Institution.
He was a man whose public career and private life commanded universal
respect, while his scientific discoveries, both at Princeton College and
at the National Capital, marked him as one of the most distinguished men
of his day. I am not qualified to pronounce upon his scholarly
attainments nor upon the estimate in which he is held by the learned
world of to-day, but it may be assumed that the eulogistic words of the
late Professor Simon Newcomb, himself a scientific giant, represent the
truth. "Professor Joseph Henry, first secretary of the Smithsonian
Institution," he wrote, "was a man of whom it may be said, without any
reflection on men of our generation, that he held a place which has
never been filled. I do not mean his official place, but his position as
the recognized leader and exponent of scientific interests at the
National Capital. A world-wide reputation as a scientific investigator,
exalted character and inspiring presence, broad views of men and things,
the love and esteem of all, combined to make him the man to whom all who
knew him looked for counsel and guidance in matters affecting the
interests of science. Whether anyone could since have assumed this
position, I will not venture to say; but the fact seems to be that no
one has been at the same time able and willing to assume it."

The society circle in Washington in 1873 was small compared with that of
to-day. There was much less form and ceremony, fewer social cliques and
a greater degree of affability. The "Old Washingtonians" were more _en
evidence_ than now and the political element came and went without
disturbing in any marked degree the harmony of the social atmosphere.
There were, however, many in public life whose families were cordially
received into the most exclusive circles of Washington society and
enriched it by their presence. Mrs. Hamilton Fish held social sway by
the innate force of character and general attractiveness with which
nature had so lavishly endowed her. Mrs. James G. Blaine, whose husband
was in Congress when I first knew them, shared in his popularity. Mrs.
George M. Robeson, wife of Grant's Secretary of the Navy, lived on K
Street and kept open house. The Secretary of the Treasury and Mrs.
William A. Richardson, who lived in the old Hill house on H Street, were
well known and very popular. Francis Kernan, the junior Senator from New
York, with his wife and daughter, was seen everywhere. Thomas Kernan,
their son, who eventually became a Roman Catholic priest, was a great
dancer and a general favorite. Roscoe Conkling, the senior Senator from
New York, was socially disposed, but his wife, who was a sister of
Horatio Seymour, although well fitted for social life, took but little
part in it. She was a pronounced blond, wore her hair in many ringlets
and was _petite_ in figure. Senator and Mrs. Henry L. Dawes and their
intellectual daughter, Miss Anna, were highly esteemed by
Washingtonians. General Ambrose B. Burnside, Senator from Rhode Island
and a widower, lived on H Street, where he lavishly entertained his
friends. Senator Joseph R. Hawley and wife of Connecticut and the
latter's bright sister, Miss Kate Foote, resided in the Capitol Hill
neighborhood; while Senator Henry B. Anthony, also of Rhode Island and a
widower, was famous for his grasshopper turkeys, with which he liberally
supplied his guests at his home on the southwest corner of H and
Fourteenth Streets. This was the period when William E. Chandler was
beginning his prominent and successful political career. He lived with
his first wife and interesting family of boys on Fourteenth Street below
G Street.

The social leader in Washington in 1873 was Mrs. Frances Lawrence
Ricketts, whose husband, General James B. Ricketts, U.S.A., had served
his country during the Civil War and on account of disabilities was
awarded a handsome pension. They lived on G Street between Eighteenth
and Nineteenth Streets and her Friday afternoons were festive
occasions. Mrs. Ricketts was no mean philanthropist in her way and a
certain wag once wrote--

    Here comes Mrs. Ricketts
    With a pocketful of tickets.

The doggerel had a basis in fact as she frequently appeared in public
with tickets to sell for the benefit of some charitable object; and she
sold them, too, as but few had the courage to refuse her. She was an
exceedingly fine looking woman with a cordial manner and graceful
bearing. Mrs. Julia A. K. Lawrence, her mother, the widow of John Tharp
Lawrence, originally of the Island of Jamaica, lived with her, was quite
as fond of society as the daughter, and, although advanced in years,
seemed to have more friends and admirers than any woman I have ever
known.

One day by chance I met her in the drawing-room of a mutual friend, Mrs.
Sallie Maynadier, where she shocked us by fainting. One of my daughters
wrote her a note of sympathetic inquiry and received in reply the
following answer. I regarded it as a somewhat remarkable note as its
writer was then approaching her ninetieth birthday.

     Pray accept my grateful thanks, my dear Miss Gouverneur, for
     your kind attention in writing me such a lovely note. I wish
     I had known you brought it. I would have been so much
     pleased to see you in my room, which I could not leave
     yesterday though very much better. I think the fainting was
     from the heat of Mrs. Maynadier's parlour and the agitation
     of the previous day, at the prospect of parting with my very
     dear friends in the delicate state of dear Kate Eveleth's
     health! I hope to hear to-day how she bore the journey, the
     beautiful day very much in her favor! I can not close this
     note without expressing my sincere wish that your mamma and
     yourself will be so kind as to come and see me during the
     winter. I know that Mrs. Gouverneur does not "pay visits"
     but as I can no longer have the pleasure of meeting you at
     our dear friend's I hope she will make an exception in favor
     of such an old woman as myself, one too who has known and
     loved so many of your father's family for generations,
     dating back to President Monroe's family, when I was a child
     in England and used to play often with your grandmamma
     [Maria Hester Monroe]. Can you believe that a vivid memory
     can turn back so many years? Ask your mamma to favour me and
     come yourself to see

          Yours very truly,

               JULIA LAWRENCE.

     1829 G Street,
     Tuesday morning.

An old family friend of Mrs. Lawrence and her daughter, the late Dr.
Basil Norris, U.S.A., a native of Frederick, resided in the Ricketts
home, and I am certain that his memory is still revered in the District.
When Mrs. Ricketts, upon her husband's death, broke up her Washington
home, Dr. Norris went to San Francisco to reside. A daughter of mine on
her way to join her husband in Honolulu was taken seriously ill in that
city and was attended by him with consummate skill. He was then on the
retired list of the Army, but had a large and fashionable practice in
his newly adopted home.

In connection with Mrs. Lawrence my memory brings vividly before me my
old and valued friends, Mrs. Maynadier, widow of General William
Maynadier of the Ordnance Department of the Army, and her witty sister,
Kate Eveleth. To render acts of kindness seemed their natural avocation,
and I never think of them without recalling Sir Walter Scott's
description of a ministering angel. I have heard Mrs. Maynadier say that
at the time of her marriage her husband, then a young officer, was
receiving a salary of only six hundred dollars; and yet she reared a
large circle of children, her daughters marrying into prominent families
and her sons becoming professionally well known. Their father was Aide
to General Scott in the Black Hawk War and performed similar duty under
General Alexander Macomb. Their mother lived to see the fourth
generation of her descendants, many of whom still reside in the
District.

When I returned to Washington, I found the old Decatur house facing
Lafayette Square owned and occupied by General and Mrs. Edward F. Beale,
who had recently returned from a long residence in California. Mr.
Gouverneur had known the General--"Ned" Beale, as he was usually
called--in other days and I soon derived much pleasure from Mrs. Beale's
acquaintance. She was a woman of the most aristocratic bearing and was
especially qualified to meet the exacting requirements of the most
exclusive society. The household was rendered additionally brilliant by
her two daughters, both of whom were then unmarried. The sparkling
vivacity of the elder, Miss Mary Beale, who subsequently became Madame
Bakhmeteff of Russia, is easily recalled; while her sister, now Mrs.
John R. McLean, is so well known in Washington and elsewhere as to
render quite superfluous any attempt to describe her many charming
qualities. Their home was a social rendezvous, and I especially recall
an entertainment I attended there when I met many social celebrities.
General Beale had collected numerous relics of early California which
seemed peculiarly adapted to the historic mansion, and these objects of
interest, together with the highly polished floors, the many and
brilliant lights and the large assemblage of society folk in their "best
bibs and tuckers," presented a scene which is not readily effaced from
one's memory. Among others I met that evening were General Ambrose E.
Burnside, whom I had known as a cadet at West Point, and my old friend,
Captain (afterwards General) Richard Tyldin Auchmuty of New York, who
since I had last seen him had passed through the Civil War. This
reception was given in honor of the then young but gifted tragedian,
John E. McCullough, with whom the Beale family had formed a friendship
in the far west.

FOOTNOTES:

[3] My youngest daughter, Rose de Chine Gouverneur, and Chaplain Roswell
Randall Hoes, U.S.N., were married in Washington on the 5th of December,
1888.




CHAPTER XV

TO THE PRESENT DAY


Shortly after our return to Washington we received an invitation to a
party at the house of Mr. and Mrs. William A. Richardson, the former
Secretary of the Treasury in Grant's cabinet. In my busy life I have
never seemed inclined to devote much time to the shifts and vagaries of
fashionable attire. Although as a woman I cannot say that I have been
wholly averse to array myself in attractive garments, they were always
matters of secondary consideration with me and have yet to cause me a
sleepless night. My indifference now confronted me, however, with the
query as to what I should wear upon this particular occasion, and I was
compelled, as merchants say, "to take account of stock," especially as
my invitation reached me at too late a day to have a new gown made.
Although while living in Frederick I did pretty much as I pleased in
regard to dress, I realized that in Washington, willing or unwilling, I
might be compelled to do, to a certain extent, what other people
pleased; but such demands have their reasonable limits, and I therefore
determined to ignore the dictates of fashionable sentiment and practice
a little originality on my own account. I accordingly decided to wear a
handsome and elaborate dress of a fashion of at least a generation
before--a light, blue silk with its many flounces embroidered in straw
in imitation of sheaves of wheat. In former years I had worn with this
gown black velvet gloves which were laced at the side--a Parisian fancy
of the day, a pattern of which had been sent me by Mrs. Schuyler
Hamilton. These also I concluded to wear with the antiquated dress; and
thus arrayed I attended the party and had a thoroughly good time,
supposing, as a matter of course, that the incident was closed. The _New
York Graphic_, however, seemed to think otherwise and dragged me into
its columns in an article which was subsequently copied into other
papers. Although at first I felt somewhat chagrined, upon further
consideration I was inclined to be pleased, at least with that part of
the narrative that made a passing allusion to my attire. This is what
the _Graphic_ said:--

     Among the ladies frequently seen in society this winter is
     Mrs. Marian Campbell Gouverneur, daughter of the late James
     Campbell of New York and the wife of Samuel L. Gouverneur,
     the only surviving grandson of ex-President James Monroe.
     Mrs. Gouverneur is an elegant lady of pleasing manners,
     sparkling vivacity and possesses a fund of humor and a mind
     stored with a variety of charming information. She has
     traveled a great deal and seen much of the fashionable
     world. Mr. Gouverneur's mother was married in the White
     House and--think of it!--on a Spread Eagle--that is to say,
     on the carpet of which that very elastic bird made the
     central figure. Suppose Miss Nellie Grant, of whose
     engagement rumor outside of Washington talks so loud and
     this city appears to know nothing, should take it into her
     head to be married on a Spread Eagle, would not the other
     Eagle, the public, stretch its wings and utter a prolonged
     shriek? Now I ask you candidly, have we retrograded in
     matters of taste or become less loyal to the true spirit of
     our Republican institutions? Mrs. Gouverneur has the most
     wonderful collection of American and Asiatic antiques. She
     favors antique styles, even in matters of the toilet, and at
     a party last week had her dress looped with the ornaments
     which formed part of Mr. Monroe's court dress when Minister
     to France. She also wore black velvet mittens of that date.

While my sister, Mrs. Eames, was residing in Paris with her son and
daughter, her home on the corner of H and Fourteenth Streets was
occupied by Ward Hunt and his wife of Utica. Judge Hunt had recently
been appointed a Justice of the Supreme Court, and I immediately renewed
my associations of former days with his family. Next door to the Hunts
lived Mr. and Mrs. Titian J. Coffey, the former of whom had accompanied
ex-Governor Andrew G. Curtin of Pennsylvania upon his mission to Russia;
and the adjoining residence, the old "Hill house," was the home of Mr.
and Mrs. James C. Kennedy, the latter of whom was Miss Julia Rathbone of
Albany. Their hospitality was lavish until the death of Mr. Kennedy,
when his widow returned to Albany where a few years later she married
Bishop Thomas Alfred Starkey of New Jersey. Mrs. Robert Shaw Oliver,
wife of the present efficient Assistant Secretary of War, is her niece.

After Mrs. Kennedy left Washington, Mr. and Mrs. Robert Elkin Neil of
Columbus, Ohio, with their daughter, Mrs. William Wilberforce Williams,
lived in the "Hill house." They were people of large means and
entertained on an extensive scale. Mrs. Neil belonged to the Sullivant
family of Ohio whose women were remarkable for their beauty. The wife of
William Dennison, one of the District Commissioners, was Mr. Neil's
sister and her daughter, Miss Jenny Dennison, was one of the belles of
the Hayes administration. There were so many representatives of the
"Buckeye State" at that time in Washington that someone facetiously
spoke of the city as the "United States of Ohio." Mr. and Mrs. Matthew
W. Galt, parents of Mrs. Reginald Fendall, lived in the next house in
the H Street block, while adjoining them resided Colonel and Mrs. James
G. Berret. I knew Colonel Berret very well. Nature had been very lavish
in her gifts to him, as he was the fortunate possessor of intelligence,
sagacity and fine personal appearance. It was his frequent boast,
however, that through force of circumstances he had received but "three
months' schooling," but he took advantage of his subsequent
opportunities and became an efficient mayor and postmaster of the City
of Washington, while a prince might well have envied him his dignified
and imposing address. He sold his attractive home to Justice William
Strong of the U.S. Supreme Court, who with his family resided in it for
many years and then moved into a house on I Street, near Fifteenth
Street, which in late years has been remodeled and is now the spacious
residence of Mr. Charles Henry Butler.

Directly across the street and in the middle of the block, between
Fourteenth and Fifteenth Streets, lived Colonel and Mrs. John F. Lee.
This is a house which I link with many pleasing associations. Mrs. Lee,
whom I knew as Ellen Ann Hill, was a member of one of Washington's
oldest families and with her husband had a country home in Prince George
County in Maryland. She was a deeply religious woman and one of the
saints upon earth. She gave me _carte blanche_ to drop in for an
informal supper on Sunday evenings--a privilege of which I occasionally
availed myself. Colonel Lee was a Virginian by birth and a graduate of
West Point, but at the beginning of the Civil War resigned his
commission. His brother, Samuel Phillips Lee, however, who was then a
Commander in the Navy, remained in the service and eventually became a
Rear Admiral. Although differing so widely in their political views, the
two brothers were respected and beloved by their associates, and never
allowed their opinions upon matters of state to interfere with their
fraternal affection. The only daughter of Colonel Lee, Mrs. Henry
Harrison, usually spends her winters in Washington.

Next door to the Lees on the east lived Senator and Mrs. Zachariah
Chandler, the parents of Mrs. Eugene Hale; while still further down the
street was the residence of Doctor William P. Johnston, a favorite
physician of long standing and father of Mr. James M. Johnston and Miss
Mary B. Johnston, the latter of whom is President of the Society of Old
Washingtonians of which I enjoy the honor of being a member. It is at
her home on Rhode Island Avenue that the privileged few who are members
of this exclusive organization meet once each month to listen to papers
read on topics relating to earlier Washington and to discuss persons and
events connected with its history. The insignia of the society is an
orange ribbon bearing the words inscribed in black: "Should auld
acquaintance be forgot?" A prominent member of this organization is Mrs.
Anna Harris Eastman, widow of Commander Thomas Henderson Eastman,
U.S.N., and daughter of the beloved physician, the late Medical Director
Charles Duval Maxwell, U.S.N.

In the opinion of many old Washingtonians no history of the District of
Columbia would be complete without some mention of The Highlands, the
home of the Nourse family. In years gone by I remember that this
ivy-covered stone house was deemed inaccessible, as it was reached only
by private conveyance or stage coach. The first time I crossed its
threshold I could have readily imagined myself living in the colonial
period, as the furniture was entirely of that time. When I first knew
Mrs. Nourse, who was Miss Rebecca Morris of Philadelphia, the widow of
Charles Josephus Nourse, she was advanced in life, but notwithstanding
the infirmities of age, she had just acquired the art of china painting,
and was filling orders the proceeds of which she gave in aid of St.
Alban's which was then a country parish. I frequently passed a day at
this ancestral home, and I especially recall seeing a wonderful
Elizabethan clock in the hallway which I am told is still, in defiance
of time, striking the hours in the home of a descendant. Near The
Highlands is Rosedale, occupied for many years by the descendants of
General Uriah Forrest, who built it subsequent to 1782. He was the
intimate friend of General Washington, and its present occupant, Mrs.
Louisa Key Norton, daughter of John Green and widow of John Hatley
Norton of Richmond, is my authority for the statement that one day after
dining with her grandfather, General Forrest, Washington walked out upon
the portico and, lost in admiration of the beautiful view, exclaimed:
"There is the site of the Federal City." Mrs. Norton's sister, Miss
Alice Green, married Prince Angelo de Yturbide, and it was their son,
Prince Augustine de Yturbide, who was adopted by the Emperor Maximilian.

One of the pleasing local features connected with the Grant
administration, which at the time made no special impression upon me,
was the fact that there were then but few, if any, social cliques in
Washington, and that society-going people constituted practically one
large family. A stranger coming to the Capital at that time and properly
introduced was much more cordially received than now. Such, for example,
was the condition of affairs when Mr. and Mrs. Alexander Jeffrey came to
Washington to spend a winter. They rented the old Pleasanton house on
Twenty-first Street below F Street and entertained with true Southern
hospitality. The Jeffrey family was of Scotch extraction and Mrs.
Jeffrey was Miss Rosa Vertner of Kentucky, where she was favorably known
as a poetess. The first wife of Alexander Jeffrey was Miss Delia W.
Granger, a sister of my old and valued friend, Mrs. Sanders Irving. As
soon as they were settled in their home, Mr. and Mrs. Jeffrey gave a
large evening entertainment which Mr. Gouverneur and I attended. We much
enjoyed meeting there a number of Kentuckians temporarily residing in
Washington--among others, Mrs. John Key of Georgetown and her sister,
Mrs. Hamilton Smith; Mrs. William E. Dudley; and Wickliffe Preston and
his sister, a decided blonde who wore a becoming green silk gown. Madame
Le Vert and her daughter, Octavia Walton Le Vert, were also there and
it is with genuine pleasure I recall the unusual vivacity of the former.
This gifted woman was a pronounced belle from Alabama and had passed
much of her life in Italy, where she had much association with the
Brownings. During her absence abroad the ravages of our Civil War made
serious inroads upon her financial circumstances, and when she visited
Washington at the period of which I am speaking she gave a series of
lectures upon Mr. and Mrs. Robert Browning in Willard's Hall on F
Street. They received the endorsement of fashionable society and, at the
conclusion of her last appearance, Albert Pike, the later apostle of
Freemasonry, offered as an additional attraction a short discourse upon
his favorite theme. Madame Le Vert's maiden name was Octavia Walton, and
she was the granddaughter of George Walton, one of the Signers from
Georgia, and the daughter of George Walton, the Territorial Governor of
Florida. In 1836 she married Dr. Henry S. Le Vert, son of the
fleet-surgeon of the Count de Rochambeau at Yorktown, Va. In 1858 her
"Souvenirs of Travel" appeared, and later she wrote "Souvenirs of
Distinguished People" and "Souvenirs of the War," but, for personal
reasons, neither of the two was ever published.

My first acquaintance with George Bancroft, the historian, dates back to
the year 1845, when he came from New England to deliver a course of
lectures and was the guest of my father in New York. One of the evenings
he spent with us stands out in bold relief. He was a man of musical
tastes, and Justine Bibby Onderdonk, a friend of mine and a daughter of
Gouverneur S. Bibby, who only a few days before had made a runaway match
with Henry M. Onderdonk, the son of Bishop Benjamin T. Onderdonk of New
York, happened to be our guest at the same time. Her musical ability was
of the highest order and she delighted Mr. Bancroft by singing some of
his favorite selections. Later, when he was Secretary of the Navy
during the Polk administration, I saw Mr. Bancroft very frequently. I
am not aware whether it is generally known that he began his political
life in Massachusetts as a Whig. When I first knew him, however, he was
a Democrat and the change in his political creed placed him in an
unfavorable light in his State, most of whose citizens were well nigh as
intolerant of Democrats as their ancestors had been of witches in early
colonial days.

Upon my return to Washington I soon renewed my acquaintance with Mr. and
Mrs. Bancroft, and the entertainments I attended in their home on H
Street, between Sixteenth and Seventeenth Streets, revived pleasant
recollections of Mrs. Clement C. Hill, whose house they purchased and of
whose social leadership I have already spoken. Mr. Bancroft at this time
was well advanced in years, and in referring to his age I have often
heard him say: "I came in with the century." In spite of the fact,
however, that he had exceeded the years usually allotted to man, he
could be seen nearly every day in the saddle with Herrman Bratz, his
devoted German attendant, riding at a respectful distance in the rear. I
may add, by the way, that a few doors from the Bancrofts lived Dr.
George Clymer of the Navy with his wife and venerable mother-in-law, the
latter of whom was the widow of Commodore William B. Shubrick, U.S.N.

Colonel Alexander Bliss, Mrs. Bancroft's son and familiarly known to
Washingtonians as "Sandy" Bliss, lived just around the corner from his
mother's. His wife was the daughter of William T. Albert, of Baltimore,
but when I knew him best he was a widower. A few doors from Colonel
Bliss lived Senator Matthew H. Carpenter, a political power of the first
magnitude during President Grant's second presidential term, whose
daughter Lilian was a reigning belle. Equestrian exercise was not then
quite so popular in Washington as later, but it had its devotees, among
whom was Colonel Joseph C. Audenreid, U.S.A., an unusually handsome man
with a decidedly military bearing. He was generally accompanied by his
daughter Florence, then a child, and was often to be seen riding out
Fourteenth Street towards the Soldiers' Home, which was then the
fashionable drive.

John L. Cadwalader, a cousin of Mr. Gouverneur and now one of the most
prominent members of the New York bar, was Assistant Secretary of State
under Hamilton Fish during the Grant _regime_. He was a bachelor and was
accompanied to Washington by his two sisters, both of whom lived with
him in a fine residence on the corner of L Street and Connecticut
Avenue, which has since been torn down to make way for a large apartment
house. It was while the Cadwaladers were occupying this residence that I
first made the acquaintance of Dr. S. Weir Mitchell. Miss Mary
Cadwalader brought him to see us in our Corcoran Street home and during
the visit announced her engagement to him. He was then the highly
eminent physician alone, as he had not yet entered the arena of fiction
and poetry in which he has since attained such wide-spread distinction.
It gives me pleasure to add that he suggested to me, while I was
visiting in Philadelphia many years later, that I should write these
reminiscences.

All of the large balls and parties of this date, including the
bachelors' germans, which I frequently attended, were given at Lewis G.
Marini's on the south side of E Street, near Ninth Street. Marini was an
Italian and the dancing master of the day. Twice a week he went to
Annapolis to teach the midshipmen, who, when subsequently ordered to
duty in Washington, became very acceptable beaux, as they danced the
same step that their master had taught his pupils here. The bachelors'
germans were organized among others by Robert F. Stockton, Hamilton
Fish, Jr., John Davis, and Hamilton Perkins; while soon thereafter
Seaton Munroe became one of its officers. I especially recall a german
given by the bachelors at Marini's, on the twenty-second of February,
1876, when Lady Thornton, wife of Sir Edward Thornton, British Minister
to the United States, received the guests. The decorations were
unusually elaborate, consisting chiefly of American flags draped along
the walls from floor to ceiling; while at one end of the room, in
compliment to the hostess of the evening, the stars and stripes made way
to two British flags. A small cannon and a miniature ship were placed
below the music gallery, while above them was a semicircle of cutlasses
and a _chevaux-de-frise_ of glistening spears behind which were the
musicians. In an old scrap book I find a brief notice of this
entertainment which mentions the belles of the ball, some of whom became
matrons of a later day in Washington and elsewhere. This is the
list:--Miss Zeilin, Miss Dunn, Miss Kilbourn, Miss Emory, Miss Campbell,
Miss Kernan, Miss Dennison, Miss Keating of Philadelphia, Miss
Patterson, Miss Jewell, Miss Badger, Miss Warfield, Madame Santa Anna,
Mrs. Gore Jones, Madame Mariscal, Madame Dardon, Mrs. Belknap, Mrs.
Robeson, Mrs. Frederick Grant and Miss Dodge ("Gail Hamilton").

In the old Stockton house, next door to the residence of William W.
Corcoran, lived Mr. and Mrs. Elijah Ward who probably entertained more
lavishly than any other family of that day. Mr. Ward was then in
Congress from New York. His wife possessed much grace of manner and a
subtle charm quite impossible to describe. I enjoyed her intimate
friendship and often availed myself of a standing invitation to take tea
with her. In her drawing-room one constantly met acceptable recruits
from social and political life, all of whom she charmed by her affable
conversation and unaffected bearing. Upon her return to New York Miss
Virginia Stuart, her daughter by a former marriage, married the Rev.
Alexander McKay-Smith, assistant rector at St. Thomas' Church. Soon
after his marriage he received a call to St. John's Church in
Washington, where he remained the beloved rector until in 1902 he was
elected Bishop-Coadjutor of Pennsylvania.

It was about this same period that I formed a friendship with Lieutenant
Commander and Mrs. Arent Schuyler Crowninshield. He was then Ordnance
Officer of the Washington Navy Yard and lived in the quaint old house
later assigned to the second line officer of that station. Mrs.
Crowninshield's sister, Elizabeth Hopkins Bradford, lived with her and I
attended her wedding there. She married Edmund Hamilton Smith of
Canandaigua, New York, a son of Judge James C. Smith of the Supreme
Court of that State, and the ceremony was performed by the Rev. Dr. John
Vaughan Lewis of St. John's Church, Washington. This wedding made an
indelible impression upon my memory owing to an unfortunate circumstance
which attended it. The mother of the bride-elect and the latter's
youngest sister, Louise, were traveling in Europe and had arranged their
return passage in ample time, as they supposed, to be present at the
ceremony. The ship met with an accident off the coast of Newfoundland,
however, and during the delay the wedding took place. There was much
anxiety concerning the safety of the bride's mother and sister which
naturally cast an atmosphere of gloom over the marriage feast, but in a
few days the ship came into port and unalloyed happiness prevailed.
After Mr. Crowninshield's promotion to a Captaincy in the Navy he was
ordered to command the _Richmond_ in the Philadelphia Navy Yard, and
there I repeatedly met him and his fascinating wife. He remained there,
however, for less than a year, when he was placed in command of the
ill-fated _Maine_, and about ten months before she was destroyed was
ordered to Washington as Chief of the Bureau of Navigation with the
rank, first of Commodore and then of Rear Admiral. He served as such
with marked efficiency during the Spanish-American War, and several
years later commanded the flagship of the European Squadron. He retired
in 1903 on his own application and died five years later, deeply
regretted by a large circle of official and personal friends. Mrs.
Crowninshield is so well and favorably known to the public as an
authoress that it would be impossible for me to add any leaves to the
laurels she now wears; but I cannot refrain from paying a tribute to her
remarkable loyalty as a friend and expressing my admiration for those
uncommon traits of character which, with her commanding presence, have
made her so deeply respected and so greatly admired.

The first loan-exhibition given in Washington that I now recall was near
the close of Grant's administration, and was for the benefit of the
Church of the Incarnation. It was in an old house on the corner of
Fifteenth and H Streets, since torn down to make way for the George
Washington University. As much interest was shown in the enterprise and
many of the old Washington families sent valuable relics, a large sum of
money was realized. Among the contributors were William W. Corcoran,
Miss Olive Risley Seward, Senator John P. Jones of Nevada, and Seth
Ledyard Phelps, the latter of whom was at the time one of the District
Commissioners and owned a large number of Chinese curios gathered by him
during his life in the East. I, too, was glad to aid so worthy a cause
and sent some of my most cherished possessions. Before the exhibition
was formally opened, I attended a private view of the collection given
in honor of William W. Corcoran and Horatio King. Of Mr. Corcoran I have
elsewhere spoken; with Mr. King I was also well acquainted. In 1839,
while a young man, he was appointed to a position in the Post Office
Department and eleven years later was connected with its foreign service
in which he originated and perfected postal arrangements of great
importance to the country. His promotion was rapid and he finally became
Postmaster General under President Buchanan, a position which he held
with credit both to the administration and himself. About 1873, when I
first knew Mr. and Mrs. King, they lived in a modest home at 707 H
Street where, every Saturday evening, many _litterateurs_ and prominent
men of state were accustomed to gather and discuss the important
literary and political problems of the day. John Pierpont read a poem at
the first of these receptions and Grace Greenwood rendered some choice
selections, while George William Curtis and other men of note
contributed their share to the success of other similar occasions. These
literary reunions are said to have been the first of their kind ever
held in Washington.

I was invited one evening in 1877 by Mrs. Madeleine Vinton Dahlgren,
widow of Rear Admiral John A. Dahlgren, U.S.N., who was then living at
the corner of L and Fourteenth Streets, to attend a meeting of the
Washington Historical Society held in her drawing-rooms. It was
Washington's birthday and James A. Garfield, then Senator from Ohio, was
the orator of the evening. In one portion of his remarks he seemed to go
out of his way to emphasize the statement that Mary Ball, Washington's
mother, was a very plain old woman. Why he considered that her lack of
prominent lineage necessarily added greater luster to the Father of His
Country, was not apparent to quite a number of his audience, for even
the numerous votaries of the Patron Saint of Erin, "the beautiful isle
of the sea," took honest pride in according him a gentle descent:--

    St. Patrick was a gintleman,
    He came from dacent people.

Mrs. Dahlgren was a woman of unusual intellectual ability. She was the
daughter of Samuel Finley Vinton of Ohio, who for many years represented
his district in Congress and was chairman of the Ways and Means
Committee. In 1879 she published a small volume entitled "Etiquette of
Social Life in Washington." She followed this book with another, whose
title I do not recall, in which she dwelt at length upon society in
Washington. It was not well received as her criticisms upon the wives of
Cabinet Officers and others were such as to invoke general disfavor and
arouse bitter resentment. Mrs. Dahlgren's ablest work, however, was the
life of her husband, which was published in 1882 in a volume of over six
hundred and fifty pages. She had a fine command of the English language
and excellent literary discrimination in the use of its words, as
appears everywhere in her writings and especially in the following
tribute to her husband in the preface of his Life:--

"Admiral Dahlgren was a man of science, of inventive genius, of
professional skill; but beyond all these, he was a _patriot_. While
climbing, at first with slow and toilsome but reliant steps, and, later
on, with swifter, surer progress, that summit to which his genius urged
him, he was often and again confronted by the clamor of discontent, the
jealousies of his profession, and the various forms of opposition his
rapid, upward course evoked; and until the present generation of actors
in the great drama in which he played so conspicuous part shall have
passed away, it will be difficult to gain an impartial opinion. Yet
Death having arrested his ultimate conceptions while yet midway in his
career, and set the final seal upon his actions, we are content to leave
the verdict of a 'last appeal' to his beloved country and the hearts of
a grateful people."

Two years later I attended another meeting of this Historical Society at
the residence of Henry Strong, who built and owned the house on K Street
now occupied by Mrs. Stephen B. Elkins, and for a time resided there. It
was a brilliant assemblage and it deemed itself fortunate in having
Moncure D. Conway, the distinguished historical writer and essayist, as
the orator of the evening. He spoke upon the leaders of the Federal
party during the formative period of our national government, and soon
made it apparent that his sympathies were not with them. He was strongly
denunciatory of the Federalists, going so far even as to brand some of
them as traitors, and especially criticized Jay's Treaty with England in
1794 which was their pet creation. He spoke at some length of Oliver
Wolcott, one of the most prominent Federalists of that day, entirely
ignorant meanwhile of the fact that some members of the Tuckerman
family, his descendants, were in the audience. At this time Mr. Conway
was writing the life of Thomas Paine, which has since been published,
and the morning after his lecture on the Federal party he called upon me
to ascertain whether any unpublished information relating to Paine,
which might aid him in his projected biography of the latter, was to be
found in the private papers of James Monroe which were in my possession.
During our conversation I ventured to remark to Mr. Conway that possibly
he was not aware that the previous evening certain descendants of Oliver
Wolcott were in his audience. He responded that he had no desire to give
offense but that unfortunately he could not adapt history to suit the
views of the descendants of early statesmen.

To use a terse expression of Hamlet, I have often heard that Paine was
one of the unfortunates who were not treated by our government
"according to their deserts." It is now conceded by students of our
national history that no man rendered more effective service to the
American Revolution than "Tom" Paine. His devotion to the cause and his
conspicuous sacrifices in its behalf were repeatedly acknowledged by
Washington, Franklin and all the lesser lights of the day. After
independence had been secured, still imbued with the spirit of liberty,
his pen and his presence were not wanting when required in behalf of
the liberties of the French people. He was imprisoned with hundreds of
others in the Luxembourg, where he languished for nearly eleven months
in daily expectation of being hurried to the guillotine. Following the
fall of Robespierre he was liberated through the kindly offices of James
Monroe, who had succeeded Gouverneur Morris as our Minister to France,
and was at once crowned with honors by the government in whose behalf he
had suffered. During the term of his imprisonment, it was his belief
that a single word from Washington would effect his release, and he had
a right to expect it, but he waited in vain. He was wholly unconscious,
meanwhile, that the mind of Washington had been poisoned against him by
one high in public counsels, and while still in ignorance of this fact
addressed him the well-known denunciatory letter which evoked such
wide-spread criticism. Washington, however, was not to blame, for he had
been deceived in the house of his friends; but of this Paine was
entirely ignorant. Delaware Davis, a son of Colonel Samuel B. Davis of
Delaware who rendered such distinguished service during the War of 1812,
told me a few years ago that his father was present at a dinner where
Paine was asked what he thought of Washington. Doubtless in a spirit of
acrimony he uttered the following lines:

    Take from the rock the rough and rudest stone,
    It needs no sculptor, it is Washington;
    But if you chisel, let the strokes be rude,
    And on his bosom write ingratitude.

There is probably no period of our national history when party rivalries
were so intense and the expression of political animosities were more
bitter than they were a century ago between the disciples of Jefferson
and Hamilton. Epithets in popular discourse were openly hurled at
political antagonists that decent men would not tolerate to-day, and the
public press gave expression to charges and insinuations against
honorable partisans such as none but the very yellowest and most
debauched journals would now deem it expedient to print. As a single
illustration, I have in my possession what is called "An infallible
remedy to make a true Federalist." It is without date and was given to
me by a descendant of Thomas Jefferson who knew nothing of its origin
except that it was a Boston production. It speaks for itself, and is as
follows:--

     Take the head of an old hypocrite, one ounce of Nero's
     conspiracy, two ounces of the hatred of truth, five scruples
     of liars' tongues, twenty-five drops of the spirit of Oliver
     Cromwell, fifteen drops of the spirit of contentment. Put
     them in the mortar of self-righteousness and pound them with
     the pestle of malice and sift them through the skin of a
     Doctor of Divinity and put the compound into the vessel of
     rebellion and steep it over the fire of Sedition twenty-four
     hours, and then strain it in the rag of high treason. After
     which put it in the bottle of British influence and cork it
     with the disposition of Toryism, and let it settle until the
     general court rises, and it will then be fit for use. This
     composition has never been known to fail, but if by reason
     of robust constitution it should fail, add the anxiety of
     the stamp act, and sweeten with a Provisional Army.

     The above articles may be had of the following gentlemen who
     are appointed wholesale venders of British Agents in
     America.

               F. TARGET.

The last days of the Grant administration were filled with forebodings
and excitement. I shall always remember, when the news reached
Washington that Rutherford B. Hayes had been nominated by the Republican
party, the eager inquiries: "Who is Hayes?" It was then I heard for the
first time an expression which constantly occurs nowadays--"A dark
horse." Samuel J. Tilden, as is well known, was the standard bearer of
the Democracy. The fight was long and bitter, as almost up to the day of
the inauguration the question as to which candidate was successful was a
matter of doubt. The Electoral Commission, the compromise agreed upon by
both parties, was composed of the same number of Republicans and
Democrats with Justice Joseph P. Bradley of the Supreme Court as the
fifteenth member, chosen on account of his neutral position. It decided
that the Republican nominee was entitled to the electoral votes of
Florida, Louisiana and South Carolina, and the Electoral College
accordingly awarded the Presidency to Mr. Hayes by a vote of 186 to 185.

The Tilden campaign was engineered by Manton Marble, an able man and the
editor of the New York _World_. I had known Mr. Tilden when he was a
great adherent of Martin Van Buren. He was a small, insignificant
looking man whose whole life was given up to politics. As I remember him
in general, he was expounding upon his favorite subject regardless of
"time and tide." His father had been affiliated with the celebrated
"Albany Regency," and the son, inheriting his views, became one of the
ablest as well as shrewdest political leaders that the Democratic party
in New York has ever known. As a lawyer his great ability was
universally recognized, and yet his last will was successfully
contested, although it had been drawn up by him with almost infinite
care and with the most scrupulous regard for details and engrossed with
his own hand.

I saw the Hayes inaugural-parade from a window on the corner of
Fifteenth Street and New York Avenue. All through the day there was a
suppressed feeling of uncertainty and excitement, but at the appointed
hour the President-elect drove to the Capitol in the usual manner and
took the oath of office. The procession which escorted him to the White
House was by no means so imposing as others I had seen, among them that
of eight years later at Cleveland's first inauguration, when General
Fitzhugh Lee rode at the head of the Virginia troops and received a
greater ovation than the new President himself. It was late in February
before it was definitely known what the final decision of the Electoral
Commission would be, and the uncertainty arising from this fact,
together with the prevailing political disquietude, doubtless had much
effect in limiting the size of the parade.

I soon made the acquaintance of President and Mrs. Hayes and was always
a welcome guest at the White House. The latter was of commanding
presence and endowed with great beauty, while she possessed moral and
intellectual traits that not only endeared her in time to the residents
of the Capital but also won for her the respect and admiration of the
people at large. She was also a woman of strong convictions and
exceptional strength of character, and rarely failed to make her
influence felt in behalf of what she believed to be right. Although, for
example, the attitude she assumed in regard to the use of wine at the
White House entertainments was a radical departure from precedent and
evoked the antagonism of many of her friends and admirers, she believed
herself to be right and successfully persevered in her course to the
end; so that William M. Evarts, Hayes's Secretary of State, kept pretty
close to the truth when he asserted years thereafter that "during the
Hayes administration water flowed at the White House like champagne!"
She was a woman of deeply religious experience and a devout member of
the Methodist Church. Washington society felt the influence of her
example, and during her residence at the White House the Sabbath was
more generally observed at the National Capital than during any other
administration I have known. As time passed and we became better
acquainted, my respect and admiration for her greatly increased. I
repeatedly spent the evening with her informally at the White House when
our intercourse was unhampered by red-tape, and it was then, of course,
that I saw her at her best. Her _role_ was by no means without its
embarrassments. She necessarily knew that many persons of prominence and
influence viewed with serious doubt the legality of her husband's title
to the Presidential chair and that there were those who even alluded to
him as "His Fraudulency"; but the world was none the wiser, so far as
she was concerned, and she pursued the "even tenor of her way," and by
the subtle influence of her character and conduct won both for her
husband and herself the admiration of many who, but for her, would
probably have remained their enemies.

In 1863 Stephen J. Field of California was appointed by President
Lincoln a Justice of the U.S. Supreme Court, and made his residence in
one of the three dwelling-houses on Second Street facing the Capitol,
which is said to have been a gift from his brothers, David Dudley, the
eminent lawyer; Cyrus W., the father of the Atlantic cable; and the Rev.
Dr. Henry M., the eminent Presbyterian divine and versatile editor of
_The New York Evangelist_. Here the brothers met every February to
celebrate the birthday of David Dudley Field. For many years after the
destruction of the first Capitol by the British in the War of 1812, the
Field house and the two which adjoined it were used by Congress as the
seat of its deliberations. Henry Clay served within its walls as Speaker
for about ten years, and Mrs. Field took much pride in showing her
guests the mark on the wall where his desk stood. At one period before
its occupancy by Judge Field this residence was used as a boarding
house, and in its back parlor John C. Calhoun breathed his last. During
the Civil War it was used by the government with the two adjoining
houses as the "Old Capitol Prison"--but of this I have spoken in another
place. Justice Field was "a gentleman of the old school" and one of the
most courtly men in public life, while his wife was well known for her
tact, culture and exquisite taste. Their home was enriched with many
curiosities collected at home and abroad, and I especially recall a bust
of the young Emperor Augustus, an exact copy of the original in the
Vatican. Mrs. Field's sister, Miss Sarah Henderson Swearingen,
accompanied her to Washington and some years later was married from this
home to John Condit-Smith. My old friend, Dr. Charles W. Hoffman, who
for twenty years was the librarian of the U.S. Supreme Court, was a near
neighbor and friend of Judge and Mrs. Field. After a life well spent he
retired to the home of his birth in Frederick, Maryland, where he lived
for many years, surrounded by his well-loved books and art treasures. He
never married.

When I first knew Mr. and Mrs. James G. Blaine they were living on
Fifteenth Street between H and I Streets. Miss Abigail Dodge, "Gail
Hamilton," a cousin of Mrs. Blaine, resided with them and added greatly
to the charm of the establishment. The world in general as well as his
eulogists have done full justice to Mr. Blaine's amazing tact and charm
of manner; but I may be pardoned the conceit if I offer my own tribute
by referring to a graceful remark he made the first time I had the
pleasure of meeting him. I heard someone say: "Here comes Mr. Blaine,"
and as I turned and he was formally presented to me I saw before me a
distinguished looking middle-aged man of commanding presence, who, as he
raised his hat to greet me, remarked in a low and pleasant voice: "I bow
to the name!"

The social column so generally in vogue in all the large newspapers
throughout the country was introduced into Washington about 1870. Miss
Augustine Snead, who wrote under the _nom de plume_ of "Miss Grundy,"
was the first woman society reporter I ever knew. She represented
several newspapers, and she and her mother, Mrs. Fayette Snead, herself
a graceful writer under the pen name of "Fay," were seen at many
entertainments. Both of them were wide-awake and clever women. I happen
to have preserved an article which appeared in the society column of
_The Evening Star_, written by Miss Snead, which is largely made up of
puns upon the society men of the day, some of whom are now gray-haired
veterans and some, alas! are no longer here. She wrote:--

"Our society men are sighing for their rights and complain that whereas
it is only once in four years they have the privilege of being courted
and receiving special attention the social columns of the newspapers
should give them more space. We have detailed one of our corps for the
purpose with the following result. It (s)Eames to us that the officers
of the Marine Corps are Muse-ing on an exhibition of their Zeal in the
invention of a patent Payne-killer, in proof that they have not leaned
upon a broken Reed. Some one may call us Palmer (H)off of bad puns, but
we have not given A(u)lick amiss. No wonder the Marine Corps, in hourly
dread of annihilation, has its anxieties increased by the continuance of
the Alarm at the Navy Yard, the officers of that formidable little
vessel having proved through the season that it is well named, by each
striking eight _belles_ per hour."

"Eames" was my nephew, Charles Campbell Eames. "Muse" was General
William S. Muse, U.S.M.C., now residing on the Eastern Shore of
Maryland, who usually spends a portion of each year at the Capital.
"Zeal in" referred to Lieutenant William F. Zeilin, U.S.M.C., a son of
General Jacob Zeilin, U.S.M.C. "Payne" was Frederick H. Paine, formerly
in the Navy, who still makes Washington his home. "Reed" was General
George C. Reid, U.S.M.C., now residing in Washington. "(H)off" was
Captain William Bainbridge Hoff, U.S.N., who died a few years ago; and
"Palmer" was Lieutenant Aulick Palmer, formerly in the Marine Corps and
now U.S. Marshal of the District of Columbia.

When I first knew the distinguished scientist, Professor Theodore E.
Hilgard, he and his wife were living on N Street, near Twelfth Street.
For many years he was Superintendent of the Coast Survey, and after an
interval of a number of years was succeeded by his nephew, Mr. Otto H.
Tittmann. The latter and his wife are now among the widely-known and
popular residents of Washington. The French Government in appreciation
of Professor Hilgard's scientific achievements presented to him a superb
vase which is now owned by Dr. Thomas N. Vincent.

About thirty years ago my daughters and I formed a friendship with
Senator and Mrs. James B. Beck of Kentucky and their daughter, the wife
of General Green Clay Goodloe of the U.S. Marine Corps. Mr. Beck was one
of the Democratic leaders in the Senate and was regarded as among the
ablest men of his party. He was proud of his Scotch blood and loyal in
his friendships. His wife was Miss Jane Washington Augusta Thornton,
whose grandfather, Colonel John Thornton of Rappahannock County,
Virginia, was a first cousin of General Washington. Both the Senator and
his wife have passed onward, but our affection still lives in General
and Mrs. Goodloe, who are among the best and truest friends I have ever
known.

Just before the close of the Hayes administration, Walter D. Davidge,
whose home for many years was on Sixth Street, built a large mansion on
the corner of H and Seventeenth Streets and upon its completion he and
Mrs. Davidge, who was Miss Anna Louisa Washington, gave a housewarming.
Champagne flowed freely upon this occasion and it is said that the
supper was one of the handsomest and most elaborate ever served in
Washington. The same winter my daughters attended a brilliant ball given
at Stewart Castle by its chatelaine, Mrs. William M. Stewart, whose
husband was one of the U.S. Senators from Nevada. She was the daughter
of Senator Henry S. Foote, who represented Mississippi in ante-bellum
days, and gave the ball in honor of several Virginia girls who were her
guests. She was assisted in the entertainment by her two elder
daughters, both of whom were married. Stewart Castle was well adapted
for such a social function as it was one of the few mansions in
Washington that had a spacious ballroom. This residence was quite
suburban, and the Hillyer house on Massachusetts Avenue which stood on a
high terrace was the only other dwelling in the immediate vicinity. I
remember that when the home of the British Embassy was in the course of
erection, the wisdom of the location was greatly questioned, owing to
its remoteness from the fashionable center of the city.

During the Arthur administration, Mr. Edward C. Halliday and his wife
came to the National Capital to spend a winter. I had known him many
years before when he visited the widow of General Alexander Macomb in
her home on the corner of I and Seventeenth Streets, where the Farragut
apartment house now stands. He was of a Scotch family which originally
settled in New York, and his father for some years was President of the
St. Andrews Society of that city. After residing several months in
Washington Mr. Halliday built several houses opposite the British
Embassy on N Street, the largest of which he reserved for his own
residence. It was here that Mr. and Mrs. Halliday entertained with such
true Scotch hospitality. Their Friday evenings were bright spots on the
social horizon, especially for the young people, as dancing was one of
their special features. Just before the close of her second social
season Mrs. Halliday gave a fancy-dress ball, which was a happy
inspiration, varying as it did the monotony of germans, receptions and
teas. On this occasion the minuet was danced by the younger guests
dressed in Louis XIV. costumes.

In the spring of 1880 the long and painful illness of my husband closed
in death. He had been handicapped by years of ill health, and, although
he had the intellectual power, the ability, the wings to spread, there
was, alas, no surrounding air to bear them up! The ambition was there
and the intense desire, but strength was lacking and he bore his
affliction with sublime fortitude. For a while after his departure I
felt akin to a ship lost at sea; my moorings were nowhere within sight.
I had leaned on him through so many years of married life, constantly
sustained by his high code of integrity and honor, that his death was
indeed a bereavement too terrible for words to express. I care to say no
more.

The summer of the same year, accompanied by my daughters, I sought the
quietude of the mountains of Virginia. Tarrying in the same house with
me was Mrs. John Griffith Worthington of Georgetown, D.C., with whom I
formed a lasting friendship. The Worthington family resided in the
District long before it became the seat of government and owned
extensive property. Even in extreme old age Mrs. Worthington was one of
the most truly beautiful women I have ever seen. She was Miss Elizabeth
Phillips of Dayton, Ohio, and a lineal descendant of President Jonathan
Dickinson of Princeton University. Her daughter Eliza, Mrs. William
Henry Philip, represented the same type of woman. John G. Worthington's
sister married Judge William Gaston, the eminent jurist of North
Carolina.

The administration of Garfield was of short duration. The tragedy which
brought to a speedy close his earthly career is too well known to be
dwelt upon at length. The mortal attack upon him in 1881 by the fanatic
Charles J. Guiteau in the old Pennsylvania railroad station on the
corner of Sixth and D Streets shocked the civilized world, and his long
and painful illness at Elberon was closely watched by a sympathizing
public until it closed in death. Dr. D. W. Bliss was the Garfield family
physician but the most eminent specialists of the country were called
into consultation. It is the first time within my memory that I ever
heard of the issue of official bulletins by physicians announcing the
condition of their patients. At the trial of Guiteau he was defended by
his brother-in-law, George M. Scoville, while Judge John K. Porter of
New York and Walter D. Davidge of the Washington bar were employed to
assist in the prosecution. This trial was of such absorbing interest
that men and women crowded to the City Hall, where admission was granted
only by ticket. No one could possibly have seen Guiteau without a
feeling akin to pity, as he displayed every indication of possessing an
unbalanced mind.

The administration of President Arthur proved a source of delight to
Washington society and afforded abundant demonstration, as in the cases
of Jefferson, Jackson, Van Buren and Buchanan before him, that a
"Mistress of the White House" in the person of a wife is not an absolute
necessity. Mrs. John E. McElroy, the President's sister, spent much of
her time in Washington and presided with grace over the social functions
of the White House. The President himself was a gentleman of dignified
and imposing presence and of great social as well as political tact. He
instinctively seemed to know the proper thing to do and exactly when to
do it. I was deeply touched by his thoughtfulness when my second
daughter, Ruth Monroe, was married in December, 1882. Although we were
still in mourning and had no personal acquaintance with the President
nor other association at that time with the White House, General Arthur
on that occasion sent superb flowers to my home from the conservatory of
the Executive Mansion. I regarded the act as exceedingly gracious, but
it was in every way characteristic of the man. The circumstances under
which he succeeded to the Presidential chair were so painful and some of
his former political affiliations were so distasteful to many that the
early portion of his administration was attended with a certain degree
of embarrassment; yet, by sheer force of character, unquestioned ability
and magnificent tact he so effectively worked his way into the hearts of
the people that he left the Presidential chair as highly esteemed as any
of his predecessors and carried with him into retirement the applause of
the people irrespective of party affiliation.

I made the acquaintance of General and Mrs. Adolphus W. Greely soon
after his return from his Arctic expedition. Both he and Rear Admiral
Winfield Scott Schley, U.S.N., the rescued and the rescuer, were then
receiving the ovations of the public. During our early acquaintance the
Greelys purchased a delightful old-fashioned house on G Street, below
Pennsylvania Avenue, where they still reside surrounded by a charming
group of sons and daughters. General Greely is always an object of
interest wherever he goes and deservedly so, as scientific attainments,
distinguished bearing and engaging manners such as his can never fail to
win applause. Mrs. Greely, the bride of his youth and the companion of
his maturer years, wins all hearts and holds them.

It would be both unjust and ungrateful to make no mention of Mrs. Phoebe
Hearst, the mother of William R. Hearst of New York. She came to
Washington an entire stranger as the wife of the late Senator George
Hearst of California, but soon endeared herself to all old residents by
her personal magnetism, her social tact and her philanthropic acts.
Deeply in sympathy with the work of women, her benevolence in this
particular field was unbounded. Her entertainments were lavish and I was
often numbered among her guests. I especially recall an evening
reception given by her in honor of a company of authors attending a
congress in Washington. It was remarkable for the number of
distinguished men and women gathered from all parts of the country, some
of whom I had never met before, and among them Mark Twain, Francis
Marion Crawford and William Dean Howells.

As I lay down my pen, memories of many old friends are passing before me
and of their children, too. Then there are others with whom I formed
ties later in life of the most enduring character. This is especially
true of my old and cherished neighbors, Rear Admiral and Mrs. Francis A.
Roe. With his work well done he now rests from his labors, but his widow
is yet my valued friend. Still another is Rear Admiral Winfield Scott
Schley, U.S. N. who, surrounded by admiring friends in Washington, lives
quietly and unostentatiously and bears his laurels well; and last, but
anything in the world but least, Mrs. Julian James, a representative of
a distinguished New York family, the daughter of Theodorus Bailey Myers,
who has made her home in Washington for many years, and is now the "Lady
Bountiful" of the National Capital. Beautiful in person as well as in
character, she distributes her wealth with a lavish hand, and richly
deserves the words "well done."

In looking backward through the years of a long and active life I have
seen varied relays of humanity, all of them acting their parts and
filling their appropriate niches--great and small often standing
shoulder to shoulder and engaged in the same strife. Many of them, my
friends in childhood as well as old age, have long since passed into the
life beyond. _Vanitas Vanitatis!_ may be the exclamation of the
moralizing cynic, but to me many of these memories are a blessed
heritage, and I am grateful to the Father of All for permitting me to
catch from them the inspiration to prepare these rambling notes.




INDEX


Abert, John, 195.

Abinger, Lord, 211.
  Lady, 211.

Adams, Abigail, 134.
  Abigail Louisa Smith, 148.
  Charles, 148.
  Charles Francis, 149, 352.
  Mrs. Charles Francis, 148, 149, 352.
  Elizabeth Combs, 205-207.
  Isaac Hull, 205-207.
  John (1), 57, 134, 147, 148, 206, 316.
  John (2), 214, 282.
  Mrs. John, 214, 282.
  John Quincy, 31, 32, 148, 149, 199, 200, 206, 214, 279, 280, 282.
  Mrs. John Quincy, 279, 280, 332.
  Mary Louisa, 199.
  Thomas Boylston, 206, 207.
  William, 180.

Addington, Henry Unwin, 279.

Addison, Joseph, 80.

Adrian, Robert, 53, 66.

Agg, John T., 280.

Albert, Prince, 163.
  William T., 372.

Alcott, Amos Bronson, 158.

Alfonso XIII., of Spain, 100.

Allen, Eliza, 198.
  John, 198.

Allerton, Willoughby, 324.
  Mrs. Willoughby, 324.

Allston, Washington, 99.

Almonte, Juan Nepomuceno, 229.
  Mrs. Juan Nepomuceno, 229.

Almy, John J., 257.

Anderson, Richard C, 239.
  Robert, 239.
  Mrs. Robert, 239, 240.

Andrews, Edward G., 53.
  John A., 178.

Anne, Queen, 141.

Anthon, Charles, 13-16, 18.

Anthony, Henry B., 361.

Appleton, James Means, 255.
  Jesse, 255.

Armistead, Richard, 145.
  Mrs. Richard, 69, 146.
  Susan, 73, 145.

Armstrong, John, 72.
  Mr., of New York, 112.

Arthur, Chester A., 11, 390, 391.

Ashton, Henry, 215.

Astor, Dorothea, 74.
  Eliza, 75.
  Emily, 53.
  George, 76.
  "George and Company," 76.
  Henry, 75.
  John Jacob (1), 33, 36, 39, 72-77.
  John Jacob (2), 22.
  Magdalen, 74.
  William B., 22, 23, 53, 72.
  William Waldorf, 102.
  "Astor and Camp," 76.

Atkinson, Henry, 163.
  Mrs. Henry, 163.

Auchmuty, Richard Tyldin, 364.

Audenreid, Florence, 373.
  Joseph C., 372.

Augustus, Emperor, 385.

Aulick, John H., 169.


Bache, Eliza Ann, 78.
  Matilda, 278.

Bacon, Alice, 19.
  Delia, 19.
  Francis, 34.
  Julia, 19.
  Leonard, 19.

Badger, Miss, 374.

Bakhmeteff, Madame, 364.

Balfe, Michael William, 227.
  Victoire, 227.

Ball, Mary, 377.

Bancroft, George, 171, 199, 371, 372.
  Mrs. George, 106, 372.

Bankhead, James, 186, 211.
  The Misses, 186.

Banks, Nathaniel P., 178, 315.

Bannister, Mr., 185.

Bantz, Gideon, 340.

Baraza, Cipriano, 297.

Barbour, James L., 175.

Barca, de la, Don Calderon, 233.
  Madame Calderon, 233, 252.

Barclay, Andrew D., 142.

Bard, Samuel, 146.
  William, 146.

Barker, Jacob, 43.

Barlow, Francis C., 184.

Barnum, P. T., 162.

Barron, James, 259.

Bartlett, William H. C., 123.

Bass, Mrs. Eugenie, 231.

Bazaine, Francois Achille, 278.

Beach, Moses Y., 44, 113.

Beale, Edward F., 364.
  Mrs. Edward F., 364.
  Mary, 364.

Bearn, de, Louis, 230, 231.
  Princess, 231.

Beauharnais, de, Hortense, 258.

Beaujour, de, Felix, 51.

Beaumont, John C., 304.

Beauregard, de, Paix, 58.
  Toutant, 58.
  Pierre G. T., 54, 58, 234.

Beck, James B., 387.
  Mrs. James B., 387.

Becket, a, Thomas, 96.

Beckett, Hamilton, 96.

Belden, George, 144.
  Julia, 144.

Belknap, William G., 374.

Bellini, Giovanni, 234.

Bellows, Henry W., 147.

Belmont, August, 35, 85, 95.
  Mrs. August, 95, 165.

Beltzhoover, Daniel M., 121.

Benham, Henry W., 64, 255.
  Mrs. Henry W., 64, 255.

Bennett, James Gordon, 46, 47, 83.
  Mrs. James Gordon, 47.

Benton, James G., 46.
  Mrs. James G., 46.
  Jessie Ann, 229.
  Mr., 281.
  Susan, 229.
  Thomas H., 92, 93, 229, 279.

Bentzon, Adrian B., 74.
  Mrs. Adrian B., 74.

Berault, Ameline, 52.
  Charles, 67.
  Madame Charles, 67.
  Laura, 52.
  Marie-Louise Josephine Laure, 67.
  Pauline, 68.
  Vincente Rose Ameline, 67.

Beresford, William, 154.

Bergmans, Alfred, 232.
  Madame Alfred, 232.

Berret, James G., 367.
  Mrs. James G., 367.

Berrian, William, 86.

Berrien, William McPherson, 56.

Bertinatti, Giuseppe, 231.
  Madame Giuseppe, 231.

Bibby, Augustus, 267.
  Edward N., 267.
  Mrs. Edward N., 267.
  Gouverneur S., 36, 371.
  Mrs. Gouverneur S., 22.
  Henry Warburton, 267.

Biddle, Nicholas, 14.

Bigelow, John, 53, 126.

Bisset, John, 142.

Black, Jeremiah S., 286.
  Rebecca B., 286.

Blackwell, Jacob, 5.
  Lydia, 5.
  Robert, 5.

Blaine, James G., 174, 361, 385.
  Mrs. James G., 361, 385.

Blair, Hugh, 30.
  Mrs. James, 258.

Bleecker, Anthony, 87.

Bliss, Alexander, 372.
  Mrs. Alexander, 372.
  D. W., 390.
  William W. S., 152.

Blodgett, George M., 87.

Boggs, Edward B., 87.

Boilleau, Baron Geoffrey, 229, 230.
  The Baroness, 229.

Bolles, T. Dix, 215.
  Mrs. T. Dix, 215.

Bolton, William Compton, 21.
  Mrs. William Compton, 21.

Bonaparte, Jerome, 339.

Boreel, Mrs. Francis R., 73.

Borland, Mr., 281.
  Solon, 205.

Boswell, James, 80.

Botelwalla, (a Parsee), 294.

Botta, Vincenzo, 158.
  Mrs. Vincenzo, 158, 159.

Bouck, William C., 189, 193.

Bowne, Walter, 30.

Boyce, Edward, 233.
  Mrs. Edward, 233.

Bradford, Elizabeth Hopkins, 375.
  William, 183.

Bradish, Luther, 3.

Bradley, Joseph P., 382.

Brady, James T., 83, 84.

Brandegee, Maria, 58.

Brasher, Philip, 43.

Bratz, Herrman, 372.

Bray, Mrs. Ann Eliza, 66.

Breckenridge, John C., 220.

Bresson, de, Paul Alfred, 232.

Bridge, Horatio, 274.
  Mrs. Horatio, 274.

Bridgens, Cornelia, 159, 160.
  The Misses, 159.

Brodhead, Jacob, 86.

Broglie, de, Duchesse, 75.

Bronson, Orestes Augustus, 158.

Brooke, Catharine L., 174.

Brooks, Peter C., 148.
  Preston S., 244.
  Mrs. Sidney, 225.

Brown, B. Gratz, 351.
  Colonel, 348.
  Jesse, 176.
  John Marshall, 215.
  Mrs. John Marshall, 215.
  Mr., 281.
  Robert M. G., 340.
  Mrs. Robert M. G., 340.
  (Sexton), 135, 136, 137.

Browne, George W., 35.

Browning, Robert, 371.
  Mrs. Robert, 371.

Brownlee, William C., 86.

Bryant, William Cullen, 45, 48, 119.

Buchanan, James, 176, 177, 218, 242, 276, 285, 286, 288, 341, 376, 390.
  James, (British Consul in N.Y.), 168.
  Roberdeau, 9.
  Mrs. Roberdeau, 9.

Buckingham, Mrs. Benjamin F., 199.

Buckley, Barzilla, 18.

Bucknor, Cornelia, 185.
  Emily, 186.
  Frank, 185, 186.

Bull, Ole, 196.

Bullitt, Diana Moore, 163.
  Eloise, ("Lou"), 163.
  Mary, 163.

Bulloch, James D., 304.

Bunner, Anne, 40.
  Rudolph, 40, 42, 43.

Burdette, Charles, 9.

Burke, Edmund, 84.

Burney, Frances, 66.

Burns, David, 236, 237.
  Robert, 14.
  William C., 297.

Burnside, Ambrose E., 361, 364.

Burr, Aaron, 6, 99, 108, 258.
  Theodosia, 99.

Burton, William E., 13, 26, 82, 162.

Bush, Ralph I., 27, 28.

Butler, Andrew P., 244.
  Benjamin F., 92, 161.
  Mrs. Benjamin F., 161.
  Gen. Benjamin F., 221, 222, 274.
  Charles Henry, 368.
  Pierce (1), (Senator), 85.
  Pierce (2), 85.

Byron, Lord, 40, 84, 354.


Caballero, Lucas, 297.

Cabell, Mrs. Robert Henry, 105, 183.

Cadwalader, John (1), 255.
  John (2), 255.
  John L., 373.
  Mary, 373.
  Mrs. Thomas, 267.

Calhoun, John C., 4, 279, 384.

Cameron, Simon, 274.

Cammack, Mrs., 54.

Campan, Madame, 29, 258.

Campbell, Alexander, 7, 8.
  Archibald, 207, 218.
  Mrs. Archibald, 207.
  Charles H., 207.
  Mrs. Charles H., 207.
  Charlotte, 265, 311.
  Fanny, 19, 22, 139, 171.
  James (1), 6, 12-15, 18, 31-33, 40, 45, 179, 180, 366.
  Mrs. James, 14, 18, 262, 266, 271, 311.

Campbell, James (2), 22, 23, 265.
  Malcolm (1), 6, 8, 9, 45.
  Malcolm (2), 17, 98, 173, 265, 311.
  Margaret, 115, 184, 187, 233, 262, 264-266.
  Marian, 16, 261, 262, 264, 266.
  St. George Tucker, 212.
  Mrs. St. George Tucker, 212.
  Miss, 374.

Canda, Charles, 67.
  Charlotte, 67.

Canova, Antonio, 338.

Carey, Asa Bacon, 355.
  Mrs. Asa Bacon, 355.

Carlisle, Earl of, 106, 146.

Carlota, Empress, 208, 209.

Caroline, Queen of Naples, 337, 338.

Carpenter, Lilian, 372.
  Matthew, 372.

Carr, Jonathan, 2.

Carroll, Alida, 215.
  Carrie, 215.
  Charles, 101, 106, 262.
  Daniel, 236.
  Harriet, 262.
  Helen Sophia, 314.
  Sallie, 215.
  Violetta Lansdale, 215.
  William Thomas, 214, 217, 266.
  Mrs. William Thomas, 214, 266.

Carter, Bernard Moore, 97.
  Robert, 249.

Cass, Isabella, 121, 187.
  Lewis Cass, 121, 188.

Casti, Giovanni Battista, 34.

Caton, Richard, 101.
  Mrs. Richard, 101.

Caux, de, Grimaud, 358.
  Madame Grimaud, 358.

Chalmers, Thomas, 168.

Chandler, William E., 361.
  Mrs. William E., 361.
  Zachariah, 241, 368.
  Mrs. Zachariah, 368.

Channing, William Henry, 157, 158.

Chapman, John Gadsby, 119.

Charraud, John T., 29.

Chase, Salmon P., 218, 334.

Chateaubriand, Francois Auguste, 101.

Chaulet, Mrs. George R. A., 67.

Chegaray, Madame Eloise, 50-54, 57, 58, 61, 63-67, 69, 103, 139, 216.

Chesterfield, Lord, 80, 329.

Chew, Beverly, 57.
  Mrs. Beverly, 57, 58.
  Catharine Alexander, 57.
  Robert S., 218.

Choate, Rufus, 85, 94, 178, 225.

Chopin, Frederic Francois, 76.

Chrystie, Mr., 186.

Church, Albert E., 123.

Clagett, Darius, 175.

Clark, Daniel, 58.

Clay, Clement C., 277.
  Mrs. Clement C., 277.
  Henry, 31, 32, 63, 89, 159, 279,
  317, 384.

Clerke, William B., 185.

Cleveland, Grover, 34, 383.

Clinch, Duncan L., 240.

Clinton, Augusta, 71.
  Mrs. DeWitt, 69, 70, 71, 129, 145.
  Julia, 69.

Cochrane, John, 109, 150, 352.

Codman, Charles Russell, 111.

Coffey, Titian J., 367.
  Mrs. Titian J., 367.

Cohen, Abraham H., 9.
  Mrs. Abraham H., 9.
  Mrs. Sara Jane Picken, 9.

Coleman, Margaret, 199.
  Sarah, 199.

Coles, Mrs. (of New York), 35.

Colfax, Schuyler, 356.
  Mrs. Schuyler, 356.

Colhoun, Mrs. William H., 187.

Collins, Charles Oliver, 359.
  Mrs. Charles Oliver, 359.
  Mrs. Mary Bailey, 359.

Condit-Smith, John, 385.
  Mrs. John, 385.

Conkling, Roscoe, 361.
  Mrs. Roscoe, 361.

Connelly, Pierce, 61, 62.
  Mrs. Pierce, 63.

Contoit, John H., 34.

Conway, Moncure D., 378, 379.

Coolidge, Mrs. Harriet Morris, 200.
  Richard Henry, 200.
  Mrs. Richard Henry, 200.

Cooper, James Fenimore, 92, 131.
  Priscilla, 94.
  Thomas Apthorpe, 94.
  Mrs. Thomas Apthorpe, 94.

Corbin, Francis Porteus, 339.

Corcoran, Thomas, 217.
  William W., 197, 217, 374, 376.

Cornbury, Lord, 141.

Cottringer, Mr., 281.

Coudert, Frederick R., 17.

Cox, Arthur Cleveland, 90.
  Samuel H., 90.

Cozzens, William B., 36, 180.

Craig, Adam, 64.
  Mrs. Adam, 64.
  Jane Stith, 64.

Crampton, John F. T., 226-228.
  Mrs. John F. T., 227.

Crane, Charles H., 195.
  Ichabod B., 195.

Crawford, Francis Marion, 392.
  William H., 32, 282.

Crean, Henrietta Agnes, 47.

Crittenden, John Jordan, 279.

Croghan, Mary E., 233, 234.

Cromwell, Oliver, 2, 381.
  Samuel, 91, 93.

Crooke, Mary, 131.

Croom, Henry B., 54.
  Henrietta, 54, 55, 57.

Cropper, John, 358.
  Mrs. John, 358.

Crowninshield, Arent Schuyler, 375.
  Mrs. Arent Schuyler, 12, 375-376.
  Benjamin W., 282.
  The Misses, 280, 282.

Cruger, Mrs. Douglas, 111.

Cumberland, Duke of, 7, 201.

Cunard, Edward, 117.
  Lady, 166.

Curry, Jabez L. M., 99.
  Mrs. Jabez L. M., 99.

Curtin, Andrew G., 352, 367.

Curtis, George William, 158, 377.

Cushing, Caleb, 101, 102, 178, 198, 251, 252, 254, 255, 265, 333.

Custis, Mrs. Daniel Parke, 236.
  Mrs. Sallie Smith, 337.

Cutts, Mrs. Rose Adelle ("Addie"), 219.
  James Madison, 218, 219.
  Mrs. James Madison, 218-220.
  Richard, 218.


Dahlgren, John A., 377, 378.
  Mrs. John A., 377.
  Mrs. Madeleine Vinton, 377, 378.

Dallas, George M., 85.

Daly, Charles P., 13, 18.
  Joseph F., 18.

Dana, Charles A., 157, 352.
  Francis, 158.
  Mrs. Francis, 158.

Da Ponte, Lorenzo, 53, 82.
  Lorenzo L., 53.

Dardon, Madame, 374.

Darwin, Charles, 80.

Davenport, Mrs. Henry K., 213
  Richard G., 213.

Davidge, Walter D., 387, 390.
  Mrs. Walter D., 387.

Davidson, Samuel, 236.

Davies, Solomon B., 265.
  Mrs. Solomon B., 265.

Davis, Charles Augustus, 36, 74.
  Mrs. Charles Augustus, 74.
  David, 352.
  Delaware, 380.
  Henry Gassaway, 340.
  Mrs. Henry Gassaway, 340.
  George T., 245.
  Grace, 340.
  Hallie, 340.
  Jefferson, 103, 213, 284, 287.
  Mrs. Jefferson, 213, 276.
  John, 373.
  Kate, 340.
  Samuel B., 380.
  Winter, 178.

Dawes, Anna, 361.
  Henry L., 361.
  Mrs. Henry L., 361.

Day, Henry, 137.

De Genlis, Madame, 168.

De Hart, Abigail, 180.

De Kay, George Coleman, 221.

De Koven, Henry, 117.
  Mrs. Henry, 117.
  Reginald, 117.

De Menou, Jules, 193.

De Peyster, Arent Schuyler, 34, 165.
  Captain, 51.
  Frederick (1), 49.
  Frederick (2), 39, 163, 164.
  Mrs. Frederick, 164.
  James Ferguson, 64.
  John Watts, 116, 163, 165, 166.
  Mrs. John Watts, 116, 166.
  Susan Maria Clarkson, 64.

De Rham, Henry Casimir, 102.
  Mrs. Henry Casimir, 102.

De Ruiz, Domingo Leoncio, 68.
  Mrs. Domingo Leoncio, 68.

De Sodre, Lucinia, 314.
  Luis Pereira, 314.

De Stael, Madame, 75, 276.

De Veaux, Mr., of New York, 112.

De Wint, Caroline, 134.

De Witt, Thomas, 86, 180.

De Wolf, Mr., 281.

Decatur, Anne Pine, 309.
  Stephen (1), 216, 258, 259, 279, 309, 310.
  Mrs. Stephen, 259.
  Stephen (2), 309.

Dehon, Fanny, 225.

Delafield, Edward, 116.
  Mrs. Edward, 116.
  Henry, 111, 115, 116.
  John, 115.
  Joseph, 116.
  Richard, 116.
  William, 116.

Delarue, Marguerite M., 175.

Demonet, Charles, 175.

Demsey, John, 323.

Denning, Hannah Maria, 15.

Dennison, Jenny, 367.
  Miss, 374.
  William, 367.
  Mrs. William, 367.

Dent, Louis, 355.
  Mrs. Louis, 355.

Derby, George H., 282-285.

Desabaye, Caroline, 67.
  Clara, 52.
  Gustave, 51.
  Marc, 51, 52.
  Pierre Prosper, 50.

Deslonde, Adrian, 93.
  Marie Mathilde, 95.

Dewey, Orville, 88.

D'Hervilly, Joseph U. F., 68.
  Madame Joseph U. F., 67, 68.

Dickinson, Jonathan, 389.
  Julia Maria, 47.

Didot, Firmin, 13.

Diehl, George, 328, 341.
  Mrs. George, 328, 341.
  Marie, 328.

Dieterich, George, 75.

Dillon-Lee, Marmaduke, 328.

Dix, John A., 315.
  Morgan, 75.

Dodge, Mary Abigail, 374, 385.

Donelson, Andrew Jackson, 358, 359.

Donoho, Thomas Seaton, 272, 275.

D'Oremieulx, Theophile, 147.

Douglas, Dr., 198.
  George, 113, 142.
  Mrs. George, 111, 114.
  Jennie, 218.
  John W., 357.
  Mrs. John W., 357.
  Stephen A., 219, 220, 265.
  Mrs. Stephen A., 219, 220, 276, 349.
  William, 111.

Downing, Andrew Jackson, 134.
  Mrs. Andrew Jackson, 134.
  "Jack," 276.
  Mrs. "Jack," 74.

Dryden, John, 80.

Dudley, Mrs. Henry, 188.
  Mrs. William E., 370.

Duer, Anna Henrietta, 40.
  Catharine Theodore, 84.
  Edward Alexander, 84.
  Mrs. Edward Alexander, 84.
  Eleanor Jones, 15, 131.
  Elizabeth Denning, 132.
  Frances Maria, 15, 132.
  John, 40, 92.
  Mrs. John, 40.
  Maria Theodosia, 58.
  William A., 14, 15, 58, 84, 132.
  Mrs. William A., 15.

Duke, Mrs. Basil, 243.

Dundas, Mr., 168.

Dunmore, Earl of, 141-143.

Dunn, Miss, 374.

Durand, Asher B., 119.

Dutilh, Eugene, 165.
  Mrs. Eugene, 165.

Dyer, Alexander B., 125.


Eames, Charles, 128, 171, 172, 313.
  Mrs. Charles, 128, 171-173, 178, 179, 249, 261-262, 265, 313, 367.
  Charles Campbell, 386.
  Fanny, 172.

Early, Jubal A., 324.

Eastman, Mrs. Anna Harris, 369.
  Thomas Henderson, 369.
  Mrs. Thomas Henderson, 369.

Eaton, John H., 359.
  Mrs. John H., 359.

Edes, Margaret, 275.

Edgar, Daniel, 79.
  Mrs. Daniel, 79.

Edgeworth, Maria, 66, 98.

Edward VII., 163.

Elkins, Stephen B., 340.
  Mrs. Stephen B., 340, 378.

Ellet, Mrs. Elizabeth, 286, 340, 341.

Ellicott, Andrew, 205.

Elssler, Fanny, 85, 86.

Emerson, Ralph Waldo, 99, 158, 251.

Emery, William H., 278.
  Mrs. William H., 278.

Emmett, the Messrs. of N.Y., 112.

Emory, Miss, 374.

Eppes, Francis Wayles, 339.
  John Wayles, 339.
  Mrs. John Wayles, 339.

Esterhazy, The Countess, 215.

Eugenie, Empress, 270, 307, 338.

Eustis, Abram, 100.
  Mrs. Abram, 100.

Evarts, William M., 151, 152, 383.

Eveleth, Kate, 362, 363.

Everett, Edward, 64, 148, 149, 178, 214, 222-225, 266.
  Mrs. Edward, 148, 222.
  Henry Sidney, 149.

Ewell, Cordelia, 273.
  Richard S., 273.


Fahnenberg, Baron, 243.

Fairlie, James, 94.
  Louisa, 94.
  Mary, 94.

Farley, Mrs. John, 214.

Featherstonhaugh, G. W., 97.

Fendall, Mrs. Reginald, 367.

Fessenden, John M., 182.

Field, Cyrus W., 384.
  David Dudley, 384.
  Henry M., 384.
  Stephen J., 384.
  Mrs. Stephen J., 384, 385.

Figaniere, Joaquim Cesar de, 70.

Fish, Bayard, 185.
  Beekman, 185, 186.
  "Fish, Grinnell and Company," 113.

Fish, Hamilton (1), 103, 148, 150, 151, 152, 165, 174, 186, 286, 373.
  Mrs. Hamilton, 52, 150, 152,
  153, 174, 187, 205, 286, 360.
  Hamilton (2), 373.
  Preserved, 113, 114.

Fisher, George H., 180.

Fitzgerald, Louis, 269.

Floyd, John B., 341.
  John G., 266.
  Julia, 116.
  Mr., 281.
  William, 116.

Follin, Adolphus, 185.

Foote, Henry S., 388.
  Kate, 361.

Forbes, Harriet Blackwell, 187.
  John, 22.
  Mrs. John, 23.
  Maria, 22-24, 26-28, 30, 50, 294.

Forrest, Edwin, 82, 83.
  Mrs. Edwin, 83.
  Uriah, 369, 370.

Forsyth, John, 30, 31, 282.
  Mrs. John, 280, 282.

Foster, Lafayette S., 334.

Fox, Henry Stephen, 227, 228.

Francis, John W., 23, 26-28,
  69, 81, 82, 98, 115, 180.

Franklin, Benjamin, 26, 28, 379.

Fraser, Donald, 115.

Freeman, Isabel, 199.
  William G., 199.
  Mrs. William G., 199.

Frelinghuysen, Frederick, 11.
  Frederick Theodore, 11.
  Theodore, 11.

Fremont, John C., 230.
  Mrs. John C., 230.

Frietchie, Barbara, 125, 327.

Fuller, Margaret, 158.
  Melville, 215.

Furguson, Mrs., 287


Gadsby, John, 177.

Gage, Henry (1), 24.
  Henry (2), 125.
  Thomas, 124.
  Mrs. Thomas, 124.

Gaines, Edmund Pendleton (1), 58.
  Mrs. Edmund Pendleton, 58.
  Edmund Pendleton (2), 354.
  Mrs. Edmund Pendleton (2), 354.
  Mrs. Myra Clark, 58.

Gales, Mrs. Joseph, 280, 282.

Galliher, Mr., 185.

Galt, Matthew W., 367.
  Mrs. Matthew W., 367.

Garcia, Manuel, 81.
  Signor, 81.

Garfield, James A., 377, 389, 390.

Garrick, David, 80.

Garrison, William Lloyd, 99.

Gaston, William, 279, 389.
  Mrs. William, 389.

Gau, Alexandre, 233, 266.
  Mrs. Alexandre, 233, 270.

Gautier, Charles, 175.

Gauvain, Michael A., 29.

Gelston, David, 72.
  Henry, 35.
  Maltby, 71, 72, 100, 101.
  Margaret, 71, 72, 100.
  Mary, 71, 72, 100.

Genet, Edmond Charles, 1, 2, 29.

George I., 8.

Gerard, James W., 144, 185.
  Julia, 185.

Gerolt, von, Bertha, 232.
  The Baroness, 232.
  Frederick Charles Joseph, 231, 232.
  The Baroness, 232.

Gerry, Mrs. Hannah Greene, 217.

Gevers, Johan Cornelis, 213, 266.
  The Baroness, 213.

Gibbes, Annette, 22.
  Charlotte Augusta, 22.
  Robert Morgan, 102.
  Mrs. Robert Morgan, 102.
  Thomas S., 21, 36.
  Mrs. Thomas S., 21, 22, 36.

Gibbon, Edward, 80.

Gibbs, Benjamin F., 304.
  George, 147.
  Mrs. George, 147, 313.
  Laura Wolcott, 147.
  Wolcott, 147.

Gillett, Ransom H., 138.

Goelet, Peter, 217.

Goldsborough, Margaret, 334, 350.
  Mary Catharine, 334.

Gonzales, Ambrosio Jose, 234, 235.

Goodloe, Green Clay, 387.
  Mrs. Green Clay, 387.

Gordon, John B., 324.

Gordon-Cumming, Alexander Penrose, 172.
  Mrs. Alexander Penrose, 172.

Gould, James, 4.

Gouverneur, Mrs. Abraham, 131.
  Elizabeth, 265.
  Emily, 120.
  Frederick Philipse, 130.
  Gertrude, 118.
  Isaac, 118.
  Louisa A., 270.
  Margaret Philipse, 130.
  Mary Marston, 130, 131, 269.
  Maud Campbell, 183, 270, 271, 307, 362.
  Nicholas, 118, 127, 256.
  Rose de Chine, 309, 346.
  Ruth Monroe, 288, 320, 390.
  Samuel, 130.
  Mrs. Samuel, 130, 131.
  Samuel L. (1), 193, 256-258, 261, 262, 264, 265, 272, 314, 315, 320.
  Mrs. Samuel L. (1), (first wife, Maria Hester Monroe), 47, 109, 256,
    257, 259, 260, 264.
  Mrs. Samuel L. (1), (second wife, Mary Digges Lee), 256, 261, 262,
    265.
  Samuel L. (2), 25, 109, 115, 256, 259, 262-264, 267, 270-272, 275,
    276, 282, 283, 285, 288, 290, 292, 294, 295, 300-303, 306-309, 312,
    313, 316-320, 322, 323, 325, 328, 330, 332, 335, 350-353, 356, 364,
    366, 370, 373, 389.
  Mrs. Samuel L. (2), _Preface_, 25, 139, 206, 270, 271, 308, 344, 346,
    347, 348, 362, 366.
  Samuel Mongan Warburton, 269.

"Gouverneur and Kemble," 48, 118.

Gower, Ronald, 228.

Grabow, von, Guido, 233, 266.
  The Baroness, 233.

Graham, George, 213.
  Mrs. George, 213.
  John, 213.

Granger, Adele, 139.
  Delia W., 370.
  Francis, 138.
  Gideon, 138.

Grant, Frederick, 374.
  Nellie, 356, 366.
  Ulysses S., 152, 232, 254, 319, 349, 350, 351, 352, 355, 356, 361,
    365, 370, 372, 373, 376, 381.
  Mrs. Ulysses S., 355.

Gray, John F., 133.

Greeley, Horace, 225, 350, 351, 352, 355, 356.

Greely, Adolphus W., 214, 391.
  Mrs. Adolphus W., 214, 391.

Green, Alice, 370.
  John, 370.
  Thomas, 240.
  Mrs. Thomas, 240.

Greenhow, Robert, 220.
  Mrs. Robert, 177, 218, 220, 221, 222.
  Rose, 220.

Greenwood, Grace, 377.

Greig, John, 39, 138.

Griffin, William Preston, 205.
  Mrs. William Preston, 52, 205.

Griffith, Arabella, 184.
  George, 92.
  Philip, 222, 224.

Grinnell, Cornelia, 160.

"Grinnell, Minturn and Co.," 133.

Guiteau, Charles J., 390.

Gurowski, Adam, 177, 246-250.
  Ignatius, 249, 250.
  Ladislas, 246.

Guthrie, James, 178, 266, 286.

Gwin, William McKendree, 276, 278.
  Mrs. William McKendree, 276.


Habersham, Joseph (1), 57.
  Joseph (2), 57.
  Josephine, 57.
  William Neyle, 57, 335.
  Mrs. William Neyle, 57, 335.

Haight, Mrs. Richard K., 155.

Haldane, Mary, 358.

Hale, Eugene, 368.

Halleck, Henry W., 317, 318.

Hallett, Hughes, 286.
  Mrs. Hughes, 286.

Halliday, Edward C., 388.
  Mrs. Edward C., 388, 389.

Hamilton, Alexander (1), 78, 108, 109, 257, 274, 380.
  Mrs. Alexander (1), 193, 197, 287.
  Alexander (2), 38.
  Mrs. Alexander (2), 38.
  Angelica, 108.
  Gail, 374, 385.
  James A., 38, 257.
  Mrs. James A., 38.
  John A., 175.
  John C., 30, 36, 109.
  Mrs. John C., 22.
  Laurens, 109.
  Molly, 96.
  Philip, 108.
  Schuyler, 105.
  Mrs. Schuyler, 105, 365.

Hammersley, Gordon, 154.
  Mrs. Gordon, 154.
  John, 154, 246.
  Louis, 154.
  Mrs. Louis, 154.
  Thomas, 90.

Hammond, George, 276.

Hardee, William J., 120, 121, 125, 126, 266.

Hardey, Madame Mary Aloysia, 59.

Harod, Charles, 207.
  Mary Williamson, 207.

Harper, Emily, 101, 103, 246, 251, 265.

Harper, Robert Goodloe, 101.
  Mrs. Robert Goodloe, 101.
  Walter, 175.

Harrison, Augustus Joseph Francis, 307.
  Benjamin, 274, 357.
  Mrs. Henry, 368.
  William Henry, 138, 201, 356.

Hasbrouck, Henry C., 133.
  Maria, 133.
  William C., 133.
  Mrs. William C., 133.

Havens, Benny, 121-123.

Haviland, John Von Sonntag, 277.

Hawks, Francis L., 86, 87, 250.

Hawley, Joseph R., 361.
  Mrs. Joseph R., 361.
  William, 257, 258.

Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 157.

Hay, George, 29, 258.
  Mrs. George, 29, 258.
  Sophie, 50, 51.

Hayes, Rutherford B., 151, 367, 381-383, 387.
  Mrs. Rutherford B., 383.

Hayne, Mr., 281.

Hazard, John, 1-3, 5, 18.
  Mrs. John ("Nancy"), 6.
  Jonathan, 2.
  Maria, 132.
  Mary Ann, 18.
  Theodore E., 387.

"Heard (Augustus) and Company," 293, 308.

Hearst, George, 391.
  Mrs. George (Phoebe), 391.
  William R., 391.

Heckscher, Richard, 146.
  Mrs. Richard, 146.

Heiskell, Henry Lee, 265.
  Mrs. Henry Lee, 265.
  James Monroe, 265, 319.

Hellen, Mary, 214, 281, 282.

Henry, Joseph, 359, 360.
  Mrs. Joseph, 359.
  Patrick, 142.

Heth, Henry, 121.
  Joice, 162.

Heyward, Edward, 35.

Hibbard, Mr., 262.

Hicks, Henry W., 111, 117.

"Hicks and Company," 117.

Higginson, Francis J., 358.
  Mrs. Francis J., 358.

Hilgard, Theodore E., 387.
  Mrs. Theodore E., 387.

Hill, Clement C., 199.
  Mrs. Clement C., 199, 372.
  Ellen Ann, 368.

Hilton, Henry, 17.

Hinckley, Mrs. Samuel L., 81.

Hinsdale, Horace, 35.

Hoes, Roswell Randall, 346.
  Mrs. Roswell Randall, _Preface_, 346.

Hoff, William Bainbridge, 387.

Hoffman, Charles F., 268, 269.
  Mrs. Charles F., 269.
  Charles W., 385.
  Eugene A., 268.
  Josiah Ogden, 128.
  Matilda, 128.
  Ogden, 43.
  Mrs. Ogden, 44.

"Hoffman and Seaton," 48.

Hogan, Frances, 354.
  William, 354.

Hogarth, William, 2.

Holly, Mrs. Hamilton, 108, 193, 274, 287.

Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 245.

Holt, Joseph, 341-344, 346-348.

Hone, John, 34.
  Philip, 30, 34.

Hopkins, Louise, 375.
  Samuel Miles, 12.

Hornsby, Isham, 286.
  Mrs. Isham, 286.

Horsey, Outerbridge, 314.

Hortense, Queen, 29.

House, Crissie, 331.
  The Misses, 331.

Houston, Sam, 198, 199.
  Mrs. Sam (first wife, Eliza Allen), 198.
  Mrs. Sam (second wife, Margaret Moffette), 199.

Howard, Henry George, 106.
  Mrs. Henry George, 106.

Howe, Mrs. Julia Ward, 53.

Howells, William Dean, 392.

Howland, Gardiner G., 239.
  Mrs. Gardiner G., 239.

Hoyt, Goold, 196.
  Mrs. Goold, 196.
  Hannah, 269.

Hoyt, Henry Shaeffe, 15, 132.
  Mrs. Henry Sheaffe, 15, 132.
  Jesse, 31, 32, 33.

Huc, Evariste Regis, 288.

Hughes, John, 59, 88, 89, 104-106.

Hull, Amos G., 133.

Hulsemann, John George, 231.

Humboldt, von, Alexander, 232, 245, 289.

Hunt, Ward, 367.
  Mrs. Ward, 367.
  Mrs. Ridgely, 44.

Hunter, David, 326.


Iglehart, James, 304.

Ingersoll, Colin M., 223.

Ingle, Osborne, 328.

Inglis, Fanny, 233.
  Lydia, 233.

Irving, Leslie, 185, 186.
  Pierre Paris, 40.
  Mrs. Pierre Paris, 40.
  Sanders, 174.
  Mrs. Sanders, 174, 370.
  Washington, 40, 63, 127, 128, 129.

Iselin, Adrian, 51.
  Isaac, 51, 52.

Izard, Ralph, 100.


Jackson, Andrew, 4, 30, 70, 161, 189, 191, 207, 215, 244, 257, 279, 280,
    282, 358, 359, 390.
  Benjamin L., 175.
  Luther, 29.
  Thomas J. ("Stonewall"), 327.

James II., 7.

James, Edward, 167.
  Mrs. Julian, 392.

"Jardine and Matthewson," 306.

Jauncey, Jane Mary, 78.

Jay, Elizabeth Clarkson, 58.
  John, 58, 379.
  Peter Augustus, 58, 165, 204.
  Mrs. Peter Augustus, 204, 214.

Jefferson, Maria, 339.
  Martha, 357.
  Thomas, 57, 72, 97, 138, 142, 339, 357, 380, 381, 390.

Jeffrey, Alexander, 370.
  Mrs. Alexander, 370.

Jeffrey, Jennie, 14.

Jennings, Sarah, 154.

Jesup, Thomas S., 258.

Jewell, Miss, 374.

Johnson, Alexander B., 148.
  Mrs. Alexander B., 148, 150.
  Andrew, 342, 343, 345, 347-349.
  Bradley T., 319, 320, 321.
  George, 142.
  Joseph E. ("Joe"), 326.
  Joshua, 279.
  Louisa Catharine, 279, 332.
  Samuel, 80, 84.
  Thomas, 236, 279, 331.
  Mrs. William Clarkson, 200.
  William Crawford, 320.

Johnston, Mrs. Harriet Lane, 286.
  Mrs. Henry Elliott, 285.
  James M., 369.
  Mary B., 369.
  William P., 368.

Joinville, de, Prince, 83.

Jones, David S., 15.
  Dr., 262.
  Mrs. Gore, 374.
  Isaac, 153.
  Mrs. Isaac, 153.
  John P., 376.
  Mary Anna Schuyler, 60.
  Roger, 195, 283.
  Samuel, 58, 60.
  Madame Sarah, 58-60.
  Virginia Collins, 255.
  Walter, 255.

Joseph II., of Austria, 34.

Judd, Gerrit P., 171, 173.
  Samuel, 36.


Kane, De Lancey, 37, 39.
  Mrs. De Lancey, 39, 74.
  John, 39.
  Lydia, 37, 162, 168.
  Sarah, 39.

Kantzow, de, Frederick, 163.
  The Baroness, 163.

Kean, Christine, 52, 205.
  John, 187.
  Peter Philip James, 205.

Kearny, Mrs. Diana Bullitt, 165, 238.
  Edward, 165.
  Mary, 163.

Kearny, Nancy, 163.
  Philip (1), 163-165.
  Mrs. Philip (1), 164.
  Philip (2), 116, 163, 165, 175, 238.
  Mrs. Philip (2), 163, 238, 239, 348.
  Virginia De Lancey, 44.

Keating, Miss, 374.

Keats, John, 80.

Keefer, C. H., 350.

Kellogg, Frances, 216.
  Julia, 216.
  Sanford C., 276.

Kemble, Charles, 84.
  Ellen, 119.
  Fanny, 15, 84-86, 124.
  Gouverneur, 24, 80, 119, 123-127, 129, 130, 256, 268, 338.
  Margaret, 124.
  Margaret Tillotson, 73, 118.
  Mary, 118, 119.
  Peter, 118.
  Mrs. Peter, 118.
  Richard Frederick, 120.
  Mrs. Richard Frederick, 120.
  William, 73, 118, 119, 123, 129, 217, 268, 295.
  Mrs. William, 119, 120, 185, 186, 271.

Kemmerer, Joseph, 167.

Kennedy, James C., 367.
  Mrs. James C., 367.
  Joseph C. G., 205.
  Mrs. Joseph C. G., 205.
  Thomas H., 58.
  Mrs. Thomas H., 58.

Kennon, Mrs. Beverly, 193.

Kernan, Francis, 361.
  Mrs. Francis, 361.
  Miss, 361, 374.
  Thomas, 361.

Kerr, Mr., 281.

Key, Francis Scott, 334.
  Mrs. John, 370.

Kidder, Jerome E., 266.

Kilbourn, Miss, 374.

King, Archibald Gracie, 15.
  Mrs. Archibald Gracie, 15, 132.
  Charles, 4, 46, 105.
  Mrs. Charles, 105.
  Charles B., 119.

King, Charles C., 111.
  Horatio, 376, 377.
  Mrs. Horatio, 377.
  John W., 64.
  Mrs. John W., 64, 150.
  Preston, 178, 349.
  Rufus, 4, 279.

Kingman, Eliab., 256, 272-274, 276.
  Mrs. Eliab., 273.

Kneeland, Samuel F., 17.

Knox, John (1), 142.
  John (2), 86, 180.
  John, of Scotland, 86.

Kortright, Hester, 256.
  Lawrence, 256.

Kosciusko, Thaddeus, 187, 246.

Kossuth, Louis, 156, 157.

Kourowski, Mr., 250.

Kunkel, Jacob M., 328.
  Mrs. Jacob M., 328.

Kunze, Johann Christoff, 79.

Kuroki, General, 250.


Labitzky, Joseph, 167.

Lafayette, de, Marquis, 1, 239.

Lafitte, Jean, 207.

La Fontaine, Jean, 53.

Laight, Edward, 165.
  Henry, 164.
  Mrs. Henry, 164.

Lamb, Charles, 80.

Lane, Harriet, 285, 286.
  James, 349.

Langdon, John, 74.
  Louisa, 39.
  Walter, 73, 74.
  Mrs. Walter, 73, 74.

Lansdale, Philip, 304.

Latimer, C. R., 174.

Laughton, J. Scott, 233.

Lawrence, James, 134.
  John Tharp, 362.
  Mrs. John Tharp, 362.
  Mrs. Julia A. K., 362, 363.

Leake, John G., 12, 116.

Leary, Anna, 36.
  James, 35.

Lee, Mrs. Arthur, 340.
  Fitzhugh, 383.
  Frederick Graham, 118.
  John, 262.
  Mrs. John, 262.

Lee, John F., 368.
  Mrs. John F., 368.
  Mary, 265.
  Mary Digges, 256.
  Robert E., 121, 126, 188, 208, 212, 213, 314, 316, 327.
  Samuel Phillips, 368.
  Thomas Sim, 256, 262.
  William, 174.
  Mr., 281.

Leisler, Jacob, 131.

Lemoine, Ponty, 52.
  Mrs. Ponty, 52.

L'Enfant, Pierre Charles, 205.

Lenox, Robert, 49.

Lente, Frederick D., 118.
  Mrs. Frederick D., 118.

Leopold I., 228.

LeRoy, Caroline, 117.
  Charlotte, 117.
  Herman, 12.
  Jacob R., 111, 116, 117.
  Susan, 112.
  Mrs. William, 186.

Le Sage, Alain Rene, 66.

Leupp, Miss, 5.

Le Vert, Henry S., 371.
  Mrs. Henry S., 370, 371.
  Octavia Walton, 370.

Lewis, John Vaughan, 375.

Li Hung Chang, 306.

Lincoln, Abraham, 46, 208, 219, 220, 274, 342, 356, 384.

Ling Kein (Mandarin), 295, 296.

Lippincotts, the publishers, 335.

Lipton, Thomas, 167.

Lispenard, Alice, 13.

Livingston, Angelica, 38.
  Estelle, 116, 166.
  John Swift, 111, 116, 166, 167.
  Johnston, 167.
  Margaret, 120.
  Maria, 166.
  Mary, 167.
  Maturin, 38, 167.
  Mrs. Maturin, 167.
  Peter Van Brough, 187.
  Philip, 69, 101, 142.
  Robert Edward, 64.
  Robert R. (Chancellor), 120.
  Robert R. (Judge), 120.
  Susan, 187.

Lomax, Ann Corbin, 240.
  Mann Page, 240, 241.
  Virginia, 240.

Longfellow, Henry W., 13, 244.

Lord, Daniel, 137, 295.
  Phoebe, 137.

Lorillard, Jacob, 79.
  Mrs. Jacob, 79.
  Julia, 79.

Louis XIV., 276, 389.

Louis XVI., 3.

Lowndes, William Jones, 279.

Ludlow, Augustus C., 134.
  Mary, 134.
  Thomas W., 111, 117.

Lumley-Savile, John, 228.

Luquer, Lynch, 82.
  Nicholas, 82.
  Mrs. Nicholas, 82.

Lynch, Adelaide, 24.
  Anne C., 158.
  Dominick, 53, 81, 82.
  Mrs. Eugene H., 262.
  Henry, 21.
  James, 24.
  John A., 331.
  Mrs. John A., 331.
  Mary, 21.

Lyon, James, 24, 201.


Macalister, Lily, 232.

Macfarland, Henry B. F., 357.
  Mrs. Henry B. F., 357.

Mackenzie, Alexander Slidell, 91, 92, 93.

Macmaster, Anne, 111.

MacNeil, Elizabeth, 64, 255.
  Fanny, 255.
  John, 64, 255.

Macomb, Alexander, 163, 279, 363, 388.
  Mrs. Alexander, 116.
  Alexander S., 163, 165.
  Mrs. Alexander S., 163-165.

Macready, William C., 82.

McAllister, Ward, 136, 276.

McClellan, George B., 200.
  Lucy, 7.

McCorquodale, Mr., 168.

McCullough, John E., 364.

McDonnel, D. N., 34.

McElroy, John, 332.
  Mrs. John E., 390.

McEvers, Charles, Jr., 111, 117.
  Mary, 117, 166.

McGill, John Thomas, 326.
  Mrs. John Thomas, 326.

McKay-Smith, Alexander, 374.
  Mrs. Alexander, 374.

McKee, Joseph, 53.

McKim, Mr., 280.

McKnight, James, 216.

McLane, Allan, 358.
  Anne, 358.
  Mrs. John R., 364.

McLeod, Mr., 233.
  Mrs., 233, 234.

McPherson, Mrs. John ("Fannie"), 328, 331, 332.
  Robert G., 324.
  Mrs. Robert G., 324.

McTavish, Alexander S., 105.
  Charles Carroll, 103, 104, 106.
  Mrs. Charles Carroll, 106, 107, 194.
  Emily, 106.
  Mary, 106.
  Mary Wellesley, 106.

McVickar, John, 14.

M'Dougall, Peter, 142.

M'Gregor, John, 142.

Madison, James, 47, 72, 101, 138, 219, 241, 279, 282.
  Mrs. James ("Dolly"), 47, 178, 197, 218, 219, 324.

Magruder, George A., 211.
  Helen, 211.
  John B., 182, 208-211.

Mahan, Alfred T., 123.
  Dennis H., 123.

Maitland, Mr., of New York, 112.

Malibran, Madame, 81.

Manning, Daniel, 34.

Marble, Manton, 382.

Marcoleta, de, Jose, 235.

Marcy, Cornelia, 198, 266.
  William L., 30, 138, 177, 178, 195, 198, 229, 266, 284.
  Mrs. William L., 178, 266.

Marini, Lewis G., 373, 374.

Mariscal, Madame, 374.

Markoe, Francis S., 218.

Marlborough, Duke of, 154.
  Duchess of, 154.

Marquand, Frederick, 35.
  Henry G., 35.

Marshall, Emily, 274.
  John, 279.

Marston, Nathaniel, 131.
  Mrs. Nathaniel, 131.

Martin, Mr. (of Jamaica, N.Y.), 6.

Marvel, Ik, 159.

Marx, Henry Carroll, 161.

Mary, Queen of Scots, 86.

Mason, Betty, 212.
  Emily Virginia, 212, 213, 257.
  Florence, 212.
  James M., 212.
  John, 153, 154.
  John M., 142.
  John T., 212.
  Matilda, 212.
  Miss, of New York, 112.
  Stevens Thompson, 212.
  Mrs. Thomson F. ("Colross"), 212.

Masters, Josiah, 64.

Masters, Margaret, 64.

Maulsby, William P., 328.
  Mrs. William P., 328.

Maury, Matthew F., 207-210.
  Mrs. Matthew F., 208.

Maximilian, Archduke, 208, 278, 370.

Maxwell, Charles Duval, 369.
  Hugh, 44, 265.

Maynadier, William, 363.
  Mrs. William ("Sallie"), 362, 363.

Maynard, Edward, 196.

Mayo, Edward, 105.
  Mrs. Edward, 105.
  John, 180, 181.
  Mrs. John, 180.
  Maria D., 180, 181.
  Robert, 188, 189, 191, 192.
  William Starbuck, 188.
  Mrs. William Starbuck, 188.

Meade, George G., 316.
  Richard W., 120.

Medhurst, Walter H., 293, 303.

Meikleham, David Scott, 357.
  Mrs. David Scott (Septimia Randolph), 357.

Mercer, William Swann, 215.
  Mrs. William Swan, 215.

Meredith, Emma, 238, 239.
  Jonathan, 238.

Messinger, Daniel, 167, 168.
  Mrs. Daniel, 168.

Messinger, Thomas H., 167.

Milledoler, Philip, 180.

Miller, Charles Dudley, 150.
  Mrs. Charles Dudley, 150.
  Thomas, 255.
  Mrs. Thomas, 255.
  William Starr, 111, 117.

Mills, Clark, 244.

Milne, Mr., 293, 302.

Mimmack, Bernard P., 359.
  Mrs. Bernard P., 359.

Minus, Hetty, 98.
  Philippa, 98.

Mitchell, Donald G., 159.
  S. Weir, 373.
  Samuel L., 10.

Moffette, Margaret, 199.

Monroe, Bettie, 265.
  Columbus, 214.
  Eliza, 29, 258.
  Fannie, 114, 262.
  James, 29, 44, 77, 101, 108, 109, 123, 142, 174, 177, 206, 213, 215,
    256, 257, 263, 264, 267, 276, 279, 282, 285, 317, 332, 335, 357,
    363, 366, 379, 380.
  Mrs. James, 77, 258, 264.
  James (nephew of President), 114.
  Mrs. James, 111, 114.
  Maria Hester, 256-258, 363.
  Mr. 281.

Montauban, Charles, 307.

Montgomery, Richard, 120.
  Mrs. Richard, 120.

Moore, Benjamin, 10, 102, 130.
  Clement C., 105, 130, 131.
  Maria Theresa, 102.
  Theresa, 105.
  Thomas, 81.
  William (1), 130, 185.
  William (2), 130.
  Mrs. William (2), 130.

Mordecai, Alfred, 125.

Morgan, John Hunt, 319.
  Mr., 281.

Morpeth, Lord, 146.

Morris, Charles, 200, 279.
  Charles W., 93.
  Charlotte, 120.
  Emily, 39.
  Gouverneur (1), 226, 307, 380.

Morris, Mrs. Gouverneur (1), 226.
  Gouverneur (2), 165.
  James, 120.
  Lewis, 226.
  Rebecca, 369.
  Robert, 38, 313.
  Roger, 131.
  Mrs. Roger, 131.
  Sarah, 52.
  Thomas, 30, 38, 39, 93.
  Mrs. Thomas, 39.
  Mr., of New York, 112.

Mosby, John S., 319.

Motley, John Lothrop, 171.

Mott, Valentine, 83.

Munro, John, 142.
  Seaton, 275, 276, 373.

Murray, Charles Augustus, 141.
  Mrs. Charles Augustus, 141.
  John (Lord Dunmore), 141.
  Virginia, 142.

Murat, Achille, 337.
  Madame Achille, 337, 338, 339.
  Joachim, 337.

Muse, William S., 386.

Myers, Theodorus Bailey, 392.


Napier, Lord, 276.

Napoleon I., 337, 338.
  III., 209, 258, 278, 307, 338.

Nau, Madame, 51.

Neil, Robert Elkin, 367.
  Mrs. Robert Elkin, 367.

Neilson, Anthony Bleecker, 155, 168.
  Bleecker, 155.
  Elizabeth Coles, 168.
  William, 155.

Newcomb, Simon, 360.

Newell, George, 178, 229.

Nicholas I., of Russia, 78.

Nicholson, Mrs. Augustus S., 258.

Niemcewicz, Julian, 187.

Ning Ping (a Chinese servant), 295-297.

Noah, Mordecai Manasseh, 46.

Norris, Basil, 363.
  William H., 92.

Norton, John Hatley, 370.
  Mrs. John Hatley (Louisa Key), 370.

Nott, Eliphalet (1), 305.
  Eliphalet (2), 305.
  Mrs. Eliphalet (2), 305.

Nourse, Charles J. (1), 118, 271.
  Charles J. (2), 271.
  Charles Josephus, 369.
  Mrs. Charles Josephus, 369.


O'Brien, Lucius, 121, 122.

O'Conor, Charles, 52, 59, 60, 83, 92, 153, 334.

O'Donnell, Charles Oliver, 314.
  Mrs. Charles Oliver, 314.
  Columbus, 314.

O'Neal, Peggy, 359.

O'Neill, Ellen Elizabeth, 218.
  Rose, 218.

O'Sullivan, John L., 48.

Ogilvie, John, 131.
  Mrs. John, 131.

Olcott, Mrs. J. Van Vechten, 269.

Oliver, Emily, 102.
  Robert Shaw, 367.
  Mrs. Robert Shaw, 367.

"Olyphant and Company," 155, 292.

Olyphant, Robert Morrison, 292.
  Mrs. Robert Morrison, 292.

Onderdonk, Benjamin T., 371.
  Henry M., 371.
  Mrs. Henry M., 371.
  Justine Bibby, 371.

Opie, Mrs. Amelia, 66.

Orleans, Duke of, 39.

Ossoli, Giovanni Angelo, 158.
  The Marchionesse, 158.

Otis, Harrison Gray, 111, 274, 279.
  Mrs. Harrison Gray, 274.
  James W., 60, 111.
  Miss, of New York, 112.
  Sally, 60, 111.

Owen, John, 2.
  Sarah, 2.


Paganini, Nicolo, 196.

Paine, "Dolly," 219.
  Frederick H., 386.
  Thomas, 379, 380.
  Todd, 219.

Palmer, Aulick, 387.
  Frances Hailes, 188.
  Innis N., 121.

Palmer, James S., 266.

Palmerston, Lord, 227.

Paris, de, Comte, 25.

Parker, Mrs. Charles Maverick, 155.
  Theodore, 158.

Parmly, Eleazer, 28.

Parrott, Robert P., 119, 125-127.
  Mrs. Robert P., 119, 124, 126, 268.

Parsons, William H., 309.
  Mrs. William H., 309.

Partington, Ike, 277.
  Mrs., 277.

Patterson, Carlisle P., 204.
  Mrs. Carlisle P., 204, 214.
  Daniel T., 207.
  Miss, 374.

Patton, John B., 220.
  Mrs. John B., 220.

Paulding, James K., 119, 129.

Pauline, Princess, 338.

Payne, Thatcher T., 53.

Peabody, Andrew P., 171.
  Elizabeth P., 158.

Pearson, Anna, 214.
  Eliza, 204.
  Joseph, 204.
  Josephine, 204, 214.

Pegram, George Herbert, 183.

Pelikao, de, Comte, 307.

Pemberton, Mr., 290.

Pendleton, Edmund, 111.
  Mrs. Edmund, 266.
  Edward, 238.
  Mrs. Edward, 238.
  John, 185, 186.

Penniman, James F., 36.

Pennington, Mary, 96.
  William, 96.

Perkins, Hamilton, 373.

Perry, Augustus, 175.
  Caroline Slidell, 95, 165.
  Matthew C., 95.
  Mrs. Matthew C., 95.
  Sarah, 165.
  Thomas, 175.

Pettigru, James L., 98.
  Mrs. James L., 98.

Phelps, Seth Ledyard, 376.

Philip, Mrs. William Henry, 389.

Philippe, Louis, 39, 51, 78, 83.

Philips, Frederick, 130, 131.
  Mary, 130.

Philipse, Adolphus, 131.
  Catharine Wadsworth, 131.
  Frederick, 130, 131, 268, 269.
  Mrs. Frederick, 131.
  Margaret, 131.
  Margaret Gouverneur, 131.
  Mary, 131.
  Philip, 131.
  Mrs. Philip, 131.

Phillips, Elizabeth, 389.
  Philip, 221.
  Mrs. Philip, 221, 222.
  Wendell, 99, 171, 172, 251.

Phoenix, John, 282.

Picken, Andrew, 8, 9.
  Mrs. Andrew, 9.

Pickering, Timothy, 57.

Picot, Mr., of New York, 112.

Pierce, Franklin, 102, 103, 171, 195, 227, 251, 252, 255, 286.
  Mrs. Franklin, 255.
  Martha, 63.
  Sarah, 4.
  The Misses, 280, 282.

Pierpont, John, 377.

Pierrepont, Edwards, 342.

Pike, Albert, 371.

Pinckney, Charles Cotesworth, 100.
  Thomas, 100.
  Mrs. Thomas, 100.

Pise, Charles Constantine, 88, 89.

Pleasanton, Mr., 281.

Poe, Edgar Allan, 14, 64.

Poinsett, Joel Roberts, 100.
  Mrs. Joel Roberts, 100.

Polk, James K., 138, 171, 177, 182, 195, 372.
  Mrs. James K., 182.

Poore, Ben Perley, 272, 276.

Pope, Alexander, 80.

Porter, Andrew, 220.
  Mrs. Andrew, 220.
  David, 259, 279.
  David D., 174, 207, 259.
  John K., 390.

Post, Catharine Wadsworth, 131.

Potter, Chandler E., 255.
  Mrs. Chandler E., 255.

Potts, George, 328.
  Richard M., 328.

Powell, Thomas, 134.
  Mrs. Thomas, 134.

Powers, Hiram, 197.

Preston, Wickliffe, 370.

Price, Cicero, 154.
  Lilly Warren, 154.
  Stephen, 81, 82, 95.

Proctor, Redfield, 355.

"Purden and Company," 290.

Pyne, Smith, 195, 196, 265.


Raasloff, Waldemar Rudolph, 235, 248.

Racine, Jean, 29.

Rainsford, Mr., 185.

Ramsay, Francis M., 282.
  George Douglas, 214, 231, 235, 236, 281, 282.
  Mrs. George Douglas, 214.

Randall, Thomas, 339.

Randolph, Anne Cary, 226.
  Thomas Jefferson, 352.
  Thomas Mann, 357.
  Mrs. Thomas Mann, 357.

Rantoul, Robert, 245.

Rathbone, Julia, 367.

Ray, Cornelia, 105.
  Robert, 105.
  Mrs. Robert, 105.

Raymond, Henry J., 46.

Read, George, 183.
  John Meredith, 183.

Redfern, Joseph, 176.

Reid, George C., 386.
  Whitelaw, 352.

Relf, Richard, 58.

Remington, Mrs. Thomas Pym, 186.

Renwick, James, 14, 15, 21.
  Mrs. James, 21.
  Jane Jeffrey, 21.
  William, 112, 142.

Reynolds, Joshua, 80.

Rhett, Charles H., 212.
  Mrs. Charles H., 212.
  Thomas G., 212.
  Mrs. Thomas G., 212.

Richardson, Samuel, 66.
  William, 326, 327.
  William A., 361, 365.
  Mrs. William A., 361, 365.

Richie, Lady, 129.

Ricketts, Mrs. Frances Lawrence, 361-363.

Ricketts, James B., 361.

Riggs, George W., 353.

Ringgold, Tench, 215.

Ripley, George, 158.

Ritchie, John, 326, 328.
  Mrs. John, 326, 328.
  Thomas, 171.

Rives, William C., 38.
  Mrs. William C., 38.

Robertson, Beverly H., 319.

Robeson, George M., 232, 361.
  Mrs. George M., 361, 374.

Robespierre, M. M. I., 380.

Robinson, Douglas, 114, 262.
  Mrs. Douglas, 262.

Rochambeau, de, Count, 371.

Roche, Regina M., 67.

Rockwell, Almon F., 355.
  Mrs. Almon F., 355.

Rodgers, C. R. P., 95.
  Mrs. C. R. P., 95.
  John, 279.
  Robert S., 165.
  Mrs. Robert S., 165.

Rodney, George B., 1.

Roe, Emily Maria, 133.
  Francis A., 346, 392.
  Mrs. Francis A., 392.
  Mary Elizabeth, 133.
  Thomas Hazard, 133.
  William, 132.
  Mrs. William, 132.

Rogers, John Leverett, 64.
  Mrs. John Leverett, 64, 185.

Roothan, John, 61.

Ross, Fanny McPherson, 332.
  Mrs. Worthington, 328, 332.

Roulet, Mr., of New York, 52.

Ruggles, Samuel B., 65, 144.

Rumpff, Vincent, 75.
  The Countess, 75.

Rush, Benjamin, 279.

"Russell and Company," 302.

Russell, Ida, 266, 267.

Ruturfurde (Rutherford), Walter, 142.


Sairs, Mrs. Deborah, 96.

Salles, Laurent, 118, 282.
  Louise Stephanie, 118.

Sandidge, John M., 277.

Sands, Robert C., 45.

Sanford, Henry, 244.

Santa Anna, Antonio Lopez, 200, 201.
  Madame Antonio Lopez, 374.

Saracco, Pierro, 135.

Sartiges, de, Eugene, 223, 224, 229.
  The Comtesse, 229.

Sartoris, Algernon, 356.

Savage, John, 273.
  Joseph, 176.

Savile, Baron, 228.

Savile-Lumley, John, 228.

Sayre, Mrs. Isaac, 37.

Scarborough, Earl of, 228.

Scarlett, James York MacGregor, 211.

Schenck, James F., 301, 303.

Schenley, Edward W. H., 233, 234.

Schermerhorn, Abraham, 111.

Schley, Fairfax, 328.
  Mrs. Fairfax, 328.
  Winfield Scott, 391, 392.

Schmidt, John William, 78.
  Mrs. John William, 78.
  Julia, 78.

Schomberg, Emily, 286.

Schroeder, Francis, 275.
  Mrs. Francis, 275.
  Seaton, 275.

Schurz, Carl, 352.

Schuyler, Mrs. Eugene, 46.
  Philip, 117.

Scott, Adeline Camilla, 186, 196.
  Cornelia, 104, 180, 183, 184, 187, 194, 212.
  Henry Lee, 105, 183, 194.
  Mrs. Henry Lee, 194.
  Marcella ("Ella"), 103, 104, 194.
  Robert N., 357.
  Mrs. Robert N., 357.
  Virginia, 61-63, 106.
  Walter, 80, 176, 357, 363.
  Winfield, 61, 62, 103-105, 114, 122-124, 126, 134, 180, 181, 184,
    186-188, 193-203, 205, 211, 238, 256, 265, 279, 286, 329, 349, 363.
  Mrs. Winfield, 103, 105-107, 114, 160, 170, 180-184, 187, 188, 193,
    194, 197, 201, 211.

Scoville, George M., 390.

Seabury, Samuel, 60.
  Mrs. Samuel, 60.

Seaton, Caroline, 275.
  Gales, 275.
  William Winston, 275.
  Mrs. William Winston, 259.

Sedgwick, Mr., of New York, 112.

Selkirk, Alexander, 66.

Semmes, J. Harrison, 176.

Seth, Margaret Chatham, 119, 271.

Sevigne, de, Madame, 179.

Seward, Olive Risley, 376.
  William H., 12, 174, 247, 248, 272.

Seymour, Charles, 17.
  Horatio, 149, 361.

Shakespeare, William, 19, 71, 84.

Sharp, Alexander (1), 355, 356.
  Mrs. Alexander (1), 355, 356.
  Alexander (2), 355.

Shelley, Percy Bysshe, 65.

Shelton, Helen K., 82.

Shepherd, Alexander R., 353, 354.

Sherman, William T., 313, 335, 350.

Shiff, Eugene, 156.

Shillaber, Benjamin P., 277.

Shriver, Edward, 314.

Shubrick, William B., 372.
  Mrs. William B., 372.

Shuster, William M., 175.

Sinclair, John, 83.

Skidmore, Lemuel, 23.
  Martha, 23.

Slidell, Jane, 95.
  John (1), 58, 94, 95.
  John (2), 91, 93-95.
  Julia, 95.

"Slidell, John, Jr., and Company," 95.

Sloane, Samuel, 303.
  Mrs. Samuel, 303.
  William, 302, 303.

Small, Elisha, 91.

Smith, Augustine, 185.
  Captain, 288, 291.
  Edmund Hamilton, 375.
  Mrs. Edmund Hamilton, 375.
  Elizabeth, 150.
  Gerrit, 150.
  Mrs. Gerrit, 150.
  Mrs. Hamilton, 370.
  Mrs. Henrietta, 56.
  Mrs. Henry William, 134.
  James C., 375.
  Mrs. Nathaniel, 146.

Snead, Augustine, 385, 386.
  Mrs. Fayette, 386.

Somerville, William C., 182.

Southard, Samuel L., 44, 279.
  Virginia E., 44.

Spaulding, James Reed, 46.

Speed, James, 343-345, 347, 348.

Spencer, John C., 91, 92.
  Philip, 91, 92, 93.

Spinner, Francis E., 218.

Sprigg, Samuel, 215.

Stanard, Robert Craig, 63.
  Mrs. Robert Craig, 63, 64, 346.

Stark, John, 74.

Starkey, Thomas Alfred, 367.
  Mrs. Thomas Alfred, 367.

Stephens, Alexander H., 222, 223.

Steptoe, Ann, 324.

Steuart, Adam Duncan, 164.
  Mrs. Adam Duncan, 163, 164.

Steuben, Frederick William, 94.

Stevens, John Austin, 146.
  Mrs. John Austin, 146.
  John C., 166, 167.
  Mrs. John C., 166.
  Lucretia Ledyard, 146.

Stewart, Alexander T., 35.
  Campbell F., 180.
  Charles, 279.
  Lispenard, 118.
  Mrs. Lispenard, 118.
  William M., 388.
  Mrs. William M., 388.

St. Memin, de, Comtesse, 51.

Stockton, Francis B., 216.
  Mrs. Francis B., 216.
  Robert F., 373.

Story, Joseph, 279.

Stout, Edward C., 169.
  Jacob, 75.
  Julia, 169.
  Minnie, 169.

Strauss, Johann, 167.

Strong, George W., 153.
  Henry, 378.
  William, 368.

Strother, Sally, 242, 243, 265.

Stuart, Alexander, 37.
  David, 236.
  Gilbert, 131.
  James, 142.
  Robert L., 37.
  Virginia, 374.

"Stuart, R. L. and A.," 37.

Stubs, Alfred, 87.

Stuyvesant, Helen, 188.
  Nicholas William, 188.
  Peter G., 188.

Sullivan, George, 282.
  Mrs. George, 280, 282.
  James, 282.

Sultan of Zanzibar, 304.

Sumner, Charles, 178, 198, 241-244, 246, 247, 265.
  George, 245.
  Horace, 158.

Surratt, Anna, 348.
  Mrs. Mary E., 342-344, 348.

Suydam, Hendrick, 3.

Swearingen, Mrs. Sarah Henderson, 385.

Swift, Dean, 80.

Syng, William F., 214.
  Mrs. William F., 214.


Taglioni, Maria, 86.

Tallmadge, Frederick S., 144.
  Mrs. Frederick S., 144.
  James, 78.
  Mary, 78.

Taney, Roger B., 218, 333, 334.

Tardy, l'Abbe, 9.

Target, F., 381.

Tasistro, Louis Fitzgerald, 24, 25, 26.
  Mrs. Louis Fitzgerald, 24.

Tayloe, Anne, 236.
  Benjamin Ogle, 235, 281, 282.
  Mrs. Benjamin Ogle, 47.
  John, 235.
  Virginia, 236.

Taylor, Franck, 176.
  Henry C., 176.
  Zachary, 122, 152, 233.

Tellkampf, John Louis, 17.

Tenney, William I., 35.

Thackeray, Anne Isabella, 129.
  William M., 64, 128, 129, 245.

Thayer, John E., 139.
  Mrs. John E., 139.

Thomas, George H., 216.
  Mrs. George H., 216.
  Mr., 281.
  Philip F., 315-317.

Thomson, Alexander, 142.

Thompson, Smith, 279, 332.

Thorburn, Grant, 19.

Thorndike, Anna, 229.

Thorne, Herman, 78.
  Mrs. Herman, 78.

Thornton, Edward, 374.
  Lady Edward, 374.
  Jane Washington Augusta, 387.
  John, 387.
  William, 236.

Tilden, Samuel J., 178, 382.

Tillary, James, 142.

Tillotson, Robert Livingston, 120, 267.
  Thomas, 120.
  Mrs. Thomas, 120.

Timberlake, John B., 359.
  Mrs. John B., 296, 297.

Ting Ting (Chinese cook), 296, 297.

Tittmann, Otto H., 387.
  Mrs. Otto H., 387.

Tocqueville, de, Alexis, 245.

Todd, Laurie, 20.

Toler, Hugh A., 96.
  Mrs. Hugh A., 96.

Tothammer, Gubriel, 48.

Toutant, Elodie, 54, 58.

Tracy, Benjamin F., 274.

Trail, Charles E., 328.
  Mrs. Charles E., 328, 341.

Travers, William R., 137.

Trist, Nicholas P., 359.

Trumbull, Lyman, 352.

Tuckerman, Bayard, 34.
  Mrs. Lucius, 4.

Tupper, Martin Farquhar, 146.

Turnbull, George, 142.
  William, 195, 214.
  Mrs. William, 214.

Turner, Thomas, 186, 188.
  Mrs. Thomas, 188.

Tuyll, de, Theodore, 279.

Twain, Mark, 392.

Tyler, Elizabeth, 260.
  John, 91, 94, 252-254, 260.
  Robert, 94.
  Mrs. Robert, 94.

Tyng, Stephen H. (1), 87.
  Stephen H. (2), 87.


Ulrich, Mrs. Hannah, 176, 231.

Upshur, John H., 265.
  Mrs. John H., 265.


Van Amringe, John Howard, 185.

Van Buren, Abraham, 189.
  Anna Vander Poel, 84.
  John, 32, 33, 83, 84, 192.
  Martin, 30-32, 69, 70, 100, 119, 124, 130, 161, 165, 188, 189, 192,
    193, 251, 268, 282, 382, 390.
  Smith, 192.

Van Cortlandt, Augustus, 267.
  Mrs. Augustus, 267.

Van Hoesen, George M., 18.

Van Rensselaer, Frank, 185.
  Mrs. John King, 15, 132.
  Philip S., 78.
  Mrs. Philip S., 78.

Van Karnabeek, A. P. C., 232.

Van Ness, John P., 224.

Vail, Aaron, 281, 282.
  David M., 269.
  Eleanor Louisa, 269.
  Eugene, 281, 282.
  Mrs. Eugene, 282.

Vance, Mrs. Zebulon B., 347.

Vanden Heuvel, Mrs. Charles, 313.
  John C., 22, 36.
  Justine, 36.
  Susan Annette, 21, 36.

Vanderbilt, Cornelius, 110.

Vandeventer, Mr., 280.

Vandyke, Anthony, 268.

Varela, Felix, 89.

Vermilye, Thomas E., 180.

Vernon, Anna O., 292.
  The Misses, 335.

Verplanck, Mrs. David Johnstone, 270.
  Gulian C., 30, 44, 45.
  Louisa Verplanck, 271.

Verren, Antoine, 90.

Vertner, Rosa, 370.

Victoria, Queen, 83, 84, 117, 139, 140.

Villars, Marechal, 325.

Vincent, Thomas N., 387.

Vinton, Samuel Finley, 377.

Vivans, Louis, 175.

Voltaire, Francois M. A., 65.


Waddell, James J., 303, 304.

Waddington, Madam Kate King, 46.

Wadsworth, Elizabeth, 141.
  James, 141.
  James S., 141.

Wainwright, Henrietta, 214.
  Richard, 214.
  Robert D., 214.
  Mrs. Robert D., 214.

Walbach, John DeBarth, 304.
  John J. B., 304.

Walker, George, 67.

Wallace, Susan, 183, 184.

Wallis, Severn Teackle, 315.

Walton, George (1), 371.
  George (2), 371.
  Octavia, 371.

Ward, Artemus, 151, 282.
  Elijah, 374.
  Mrs. Elijah, 374.
  Samuel, 53.
  Mrs. Samuel, 53.

Warfield, Miss, 374.

Warner, Charles Dudley, 160.

Warrington, Lewis, 279.

Washington, Anna Louisa, 387.
  Bushrod, 279.
  George, 57, 74, 76, 131, 146, 147, 152, 162, 198, 236, 243, 267, 324,
    332, 337, 370, 377, 379, 380, 387.
  Littleton Quinton, 287.
  Lund, 286.
  Milicent, 324.
  Peter Grayson, 266, 286, 287.
  Samuel, 324.

Watson, Andrew J., 169.

Watts, Elizabeth, 164.
  Essex, 165.
  John, 12, 116, 163, 164.
  Mary Justina, 164.
  Ridley, 165.
  Robert, 116, 164.
  Susanna, 164.

Wayne, Henry C., 214.
  Mrs. Henry C., 214.
  James M., 214.

Webb, Catharine Louisa, 46.
  James Watson, 36, 46.

Webb, William Seward, 46.

Webster, Daniel, 36, 117, 241, 245, 247, 279, 281.

Weir, Robert S., 324.
  Mrs. Robert S., 324.
  Robert W., 123, 126.

Weller, George J., 308.
  Sam, 100.

Wellesley, Marquis of, 106.
  Marchionesse of, 106.

Wellington, Duke of, 64, 194.

West, Mary, 235.

Wetmore, Prosper M., 257.

Wheatley, Emma, 153.

White, Augusta, 267.
  Joseph M., 56.

Whitten, Miss, of New York, 112.

Whittier, John G., 125, 245, 327.

Wickliffe, Margaret Anderson, 342.

Wight, Ann G., 224.

Wikoff, Chevalier Henry, 85.

Wilcox, John A., 358.
  Mrs. John A., 358, 359.
  Mrs. Mary Donelson, 358.

Wilde, Oscar, 358.

Wilkes, Charles, 21, 91.
  Mrs. Charles, 21.

Wilkins, Gouverneur, 226.
  Martin, 112.

Wilks, Mrs. Matthew, 74.

Willard, Caleb, 176.

William, King of Prussia, 231.

Williams, Eleazer, 250.
  Robert, 220.
  Mrs. Robert, 220.
  S. Wells, 288.
  Thomas, 105.
  Mrs. William Wilberforce, 367.

Willing, Mrs. Thomas M., 97.

Willis, N. P., 159-161, 337, 356.
  Mrs. N. P., 160.

Williston, Ralph, 74.

Wilson, George T., 15, 132.
  Mrs. George T., 15, 132.
  William, 217.

Winans, Beatrice, 231.
  Ross, 231.

Winthrop, Henry R., 72.
  Mrs. Henry R., 60, 72.
  Mrs. John Still, 73, 145, 146, 335, 336.
  John S., Jr., 146.
  Robert C., 99, 139.
  Mrs. Robert C., 99, 139, 141.
  Sarah Bowdoin, 282.

Wirt, William, 279.

Wise, Henry A., 109.

Wolcott, Oliver (1), 147.
  Oliver (2), 4, 147, 313, 379.

Wolfe, Udolpho, 109.

Wood, Nina, 233.
  Silas, 64.
  Virginia Beverly, 64, 185.

Woodhull, Maxwell, 214.
  Mrs. Maxwell, 214.

Worthington, Mrs. Charles, 224.
  Eliza, 389.
  Mrs. John Griffith, 389.

Wright, Edward, 266.
  Katharine Maria, 213, 266.
  Silas, 349.
  William, 213.

Wyndham, Earl of, 9.


Xavier, Francis, 297.


Young, Notley, 236.

Yturbide, de, Madame Alice, 370.
  de, Angelo, 370.
  de, Augustine, 370.


Zeilin, Jacob, 386.
  Miss, 374.
  William F., 386.

  +--------------------------------------------------------------+
  | Transcriber's Notes                                          |
  |                                                              |
  | Page 7: Comberland amended to Cumberland                     |
  | Page 11: distingushed amended to distinguished; Semminaries  |
  | _sic_                                                        |
  | Page 29: Hayti _sic_                                         |
  | Page 52: Berault amended to Berault                          |
  | Page 53: Venitian _sic_                                      |
  | Page 75: Tuilleries amended to Tuileries                     |
  | Page 76: racoon _sic_                                        |
  | Page 80: "home Gouverneur Kemble" _sic_                      |
  | Page 93: dintinguished amended to distinguished              |
  | Page 123: eariler amended to earlier                         |
  | Page 129: editon amended to edition                          |
  | Page 155: strongely amended to strongly                      |
  | Page 157: unsually amended to unusually; it amended to its   |
  | ("Brook Farm had its origin....")                            |
  | Page 185: Angustine amended to Augustine                     |
  | Page 186: Bucknor's _sic_                                    |
  | Page 227: Palmerson amended to Palmerston                    |
  | Page 229: Goeffrey Boilleau amended to Geoffrey Boilleau     |
  | Page 240: Fort Sumpter _sic_                                 |
  | Page 244: Belguim amended to Belgium                         |
  | Page 323: comanding amended to commanding                    |
  | Page 372: Audenried amended to Audenreid                     |
  | Page 380: af amended to of ("spirit of acrimony")            |
  | Page 384: intercouse amended to intercourse                  |
  | Page 395: Alfonzo amended to Alfonso                         |
  | Page 396: Beaujoir amended to Beaujour; Giuseppi amended to  |
  | Giuseppe                                                     |
  | Page 398: Index entry for Mr. and Mrs. Titian T. Coffey      |
  | removed and replaced by index entry for Mr. and Mrs. Titian  |
  | J. Coffey.                                                   |
  | Page 399: Daponte amended to Da Ponte                        |
  | Page 405: Everiste amended to Evariste; Kantzou amended to   |
  | Kantzow                                                      |
  | Page 408: Marquard amended to Marquand; Isaiah Masten        |
  | amended to Josiah Masters                                    |
  | Page 409: Lathrop amended to Lothrop                         |
  | Page 410: Palmerson amended to Palmerston                    |
  | Page 414: Thackaray amended to Thackeray                     |
  | Page 415: Louis Vavans (p. 175) has been indexed as Louis    |
  | Vivans.                                                      |
  |                                                              |
  | Hyphenation has generally been standardized. However, when a |
  | word appears hyphenated and unhyphenated an equal number of  |
  | times, both versions have been retained (churchyard/         |
  | church-yard; earrings/ear-rings; housewarming/house-warming; |
  | lifelong/life-long; midday/mid-day; stateroom/state-room;    |
  | transcontinental/trans-continental; warships/war-ships).     |
  |                                                              |
  | Accented letters have generally been standardized, unless    |
  | different versions of the word appear an equal number of     |
  | times (cortege/cortege; resistance/resistance).              |
  +--------------------------------------------------------------+





End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of As I Remember, by Marian Gouverneur

*** 