As I Remember Part 7

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 a.s.sociations!" 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 Was.h.i.+ngton 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 j.a.pan 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 fas.h.i.+onable 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 pa.s.sengers 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 companions.h.i.+p of his daughter Mary, whom many years later I met in Was.h.i.+ngton. In the interval she had become a p.r.o.nounced 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 ent.i.tled "Excursion through the Slave States from Was.h.i.+ngton 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-sh.e.l.l crab upon which he feasted, and was inclined to draw an unfavorable comparison between the former hotel and Gadsby's, the well-known Was.h.i.+ngton 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 fas.h.i.+onable 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 fas.h.i.+on 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 fas.h.i.+ons 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 Was.h.i.+ngton 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 pa.s.sing 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 s.h.i.+lling 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 s.h.i.+lling 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 ill.u.s.trious 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 enn.o.bling 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 Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C., I was deeply gratified when Miss Harper came from Baltimore to attend my wedding. The marked attentions paid to her by Caleb Cus.h.i.+ng, 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 circ.u.mstance 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 fas.h.i.+onable 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 Was.h.i.+ngton, 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 Was.h.i.+ngton 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 princ.i.p.al 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 Was.h.i.+ngton 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 pa.s.sing 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 embarra.s.sing, 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 fas.h.i.+onable a.s.semblage. 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 a.s.sume 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 pet.i.tion 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 courts.h.i.+p 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 a.s.signed 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 s.p.a.ce 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 surpa.s.s 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 refres.h.i.+ng gla.s.s of mead, a concoction of honey and cold water, purchased from a pa.s.sing vender; and when cakes or candy were added to the refres.h.i.+ng 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 colored waiter dressed in a white ap.r.o.n 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 friends.h.i.+p 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 Was.h.i.+ngton, 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 circ.u.mstances. A terrible civil war was raging, and the Old Dominion for a time was its princ.i.p.al 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 a.s.sembled 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 subst.i.tuted 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 pa.s.sing onward that his hard-earned wealth would eventually enrich his descendants, even the representatives of n.o.bility.

I have before me an invitation to a New York a.s.sembly, 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 f.a.n.n.y, 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 smas.h.i.+ng, the crus.h.i.+ng, the s.n.a.t.c.hing, 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 a.s.sure 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 mult.i.tudes 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 pa.s.sion, And I'm sorry to see that it's so much the fas.h.i.+on.

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 f.a.n.n.y, I bid you farewell.