FROM

LADY WASHINGTON

TO

MRS. CLEVELAND

BY
LYDIA L. GORDON

boston 1889
LEE AND SHEPARD PUBLISHERS
10 MILK STREET NEXT " OLD SOUTH MEETING HOUSE "
NEW YORK CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM
71S AND 720 BROADWAY

fa, . ( (i
COPYKIGHT, 1888, BY LEE AND ShEPAKD.

All Jiights Reserved.

FKOM LADY WASHINGTON TO MRS. CLEVELAND.

t^ \G>

¦ U . F,,

BOSTON
S. J. Paekhill & Co. Printers

CONTENTS.

Page
Lady Washington  i
Mrs. John Adams  37
Mrs. Jefferson  6i
Mrs. Madison  87
Mrs. Monroe  103
Mrs. John Quincy Adams  117
Mrs. Jackson  135
Mrs. Van Buren  168
Mrs. Harrison  185
Mrs. Letitia Christian Tyler — Mrs. Julia Gardiner
Tyler  202
Mrs. Polk  217
Mrs. Taylor  238
Mrs. Fillmore  264
Mrs. Pierce  278
Miss Lane  293
Mrs. Lincoln  314
Mrs. Johnson  344
Mrs. Grant  357
Mrs. Hayes  389
Mrs. Garfield  408
Mrs. Arthur  420
Mrs. Cleveland  431

FROM
LADY WASHINGTON TO
MRS. CLEVELAND.

LADY WASHINGTON.
One hundred and fifty-six years ago, in the month
of May, was born a girl, to whom the god-parents
gave the name of Martha. Her father, of Welsh
descent, was a Virginia planter of the olden style,
by the name of Dandridge. In a home of ease,
wealth, and refinement, the girl grew and blossomed
into womanhood.
In those days there were no United States, only
colonies, which belonged to England, and the gov
ernors of each held vice-regal courts. Dinwiddie
bore sway in Williamsburg, and to make court life
attractive and gay, gathered about him all the youth
and beauty of the colony.
Miss Dandridge, just turned sixteen, became a
belle in her first season, and when it was over she
was the pledged wife of Colonel Custis, a man of
distinction and great wealth. Marriage soon followed.
Three children came in quick succession. The first-

2 LADY WASHINGTON.
born drooped and died. Grief told upon the frail,
consumptive husband, and in a few short weeks he
too sickened and died. He gave a large portion of
his great wealth to his young wife and made her
guardian of the two remaining children.
The wife and mother thought love, hope, and hap
piness were buried with her dead. Yet time, youth,
natural gayety, and sound common sense did their
work, and a couple of years later we hear of the
young widow of Colonel Custis, visiting about the
county seats and entertaining in her own home.
She was the guest of Mr. Chamberlayne when she
first met Washington.
Every American is familiar with George Washing
ton as the mischievous boy, as the wise general, as
the dignified president of these United States, yet,
few associate his name with that of a wooing lover —
his heart always bare to Cupid's darts. In school
boy days, before he had turned fifteen, he was madly
in love with a girl older than himself. His school-
books were scribbled over with doggerel sonnets —
love-sick rhymes — badly written and worse spelled,
in which he addresses her as the " Lowland Beauty "
— the only claim she has to be mentioned in history.
Pardon ! she was the mother of Light Horse Harry
and the grandmother of Robert Edward Lee,  the
great general of the Confederate army of the Rebellion.
When the people of the North were mad with

LADY WASHINGTON. 3
passion, — could hardly be touched by the irons of
Jefferson Davis, — there was always a kindly feeling
towards Lee, who would have foreborne, pleaded,
done what he thought man might do with unclouded
honor to save the Union ; yet when his state cast
off her allegiance, feeling that he could not draw his
sword against her, against children, relatives, home,
after days and nights of struggle, with tears stream
ing down his cheeks, he cast off his.
All through the war, there was a thrill of admira
tion for the m&n who maintained his cause so
bravely against such bitter odds.
Amid the exultation at Appomattox, there were
pity and respect for the Hero of the Confederacy.
Following that event, he wrote a friend : " I am
looking for some little, quiet house in the woods,
where I can procure shelter and my daily bread."
To his honor be it spoken, he took the compara
tively humble office of president of a small college,
taught loyalty, and charged Southern mothers not
to bring up their sons " in hostility to the govern
ment of the United States." An English nobleman,
who would have been glad to have seen the Ameri
can Union in ruins, so misunderstood the noble fibre
of the man as to come forward and proffer a mansion
and large estate on English soil, as a gift.
To-day, we can but mourn the death and revere
the memory of one so great, who has passed into

4 LADY WASHINGTON.
history shorn of military rank, won at West Point,
and military glory, won upon the field.
His grandmother probably looked upon Washing
ton as a foolish stripling and laughed at his callow
love. Even after his luggage was on board ship, the boy
had been thwarted by his mother in his project of
entering the English navy, and now that the love
which had been the consolation of his disappointed
ambition could gain no hold upon the heart of the
girl, he went on writing bad verses, thinking life
had lost its zest, and that he was very unhappy.
The boy lover closes a letter to a school friend to
whom he has confided his woes, by saying : " Were
I to live retired from young women, I might in some
measure alleviate my sorrows, by burying that chaste
and troublesome passion in the grave of oblivion."
He left school, and went to Mount Vernon, the
home of his half-brother, Laurence, with whom .he
was an especial favorite.
Laurence had been sent to England in early youth,
and had had the advantages of a thorough educa
tion. On his return, he had married Anne Fair-.
fax, which brought George into close intimacy with
the whole Fairfax family, who ranked high in the
social scale both in England and America. Their
county seat, Belvbir, was in the neighborhood of
Mount Vernon.

LADY WASHINGTON. 5
George William Fairfax had just brought from the
mother country a bride, and with her came a sister
who soon shook the constancy of Washington for
his "Lowland Beauty." He writes to a certain
" Dear Sally " of a young and agreeable lady, who
helps him to pass his time pleasantly, but makes
him rather uneasy, as she revives a very " trouble
some passion."
Lord Fairfax, the head of the house, was a man
of sixty years — made shy and eccentric, an exile
from England, by an unfortunate love affair in early
life. The boy's bold riding and enthusiastic ardor for
field sports attracted the recluse, whose chief de
light was in fox-hunting, and he made him his
chosen companion. He possessed broad tracts of
m
land beyond the Blue Ridge, where in time he meant
to locate and build a manor house. ,
Observing at Mount Vernon, that Washington
practised surveying with care and accuracy, he
proposed that he should cross the mountains, sur
vey his land, and mark its boundaries.
One month from his sixteenth birthday, Washing
ton assumed this responsible position. The life in
the woods just suited the high, spirits of the active
boy and soon repaired the damages done to his
heart. To a school friend, he wrote in great glee, "I

LADY WASHINGTON.

have not slept in a bed more than three or four
nights this summer. After walking all day, I have
lain down at night upon a little straw or fodder, or
a bearskin, with man, wife, and children, like dogs
and cats — happy is he who gets the berth nearest
the fire."
A year later he attracted the attention of govern
ment officers and was appointed public surveyor ;
upon the records of Culpeper county, may be read
that "thereupon he took the usual oaths to His
Majesty's person and government, and took and
subscribed the abjuration oath and then the oath
of surveyor, according to law."
The greater part of the year was spent beyond
the AUeghanies, and the boy became a man, skilled
in woodcraft, learned in the red men's way, and the
foundation of his future greatness was laid.
Laurence, his brother, the master of Mount Ver
non, was in failing health ; sunnier climes were
ordered, and our Washington was his companion
and nurse to Barbadoes. Here he had the small
pox in the natural way, and, for a time, was very ill.
The change and climate were of no benefit to
Laurence, and it was suggested that he should try
Bermuda. George went honie to bring his wife to
make the voyage with him.
Hope, however, died out of the sick man's bosom,
and such a longing for home, to die at home, came

LADY WASHINGTON. 7
over him, that he took the next vessel and reached
there soon after his brother. Consumption paved
the way, and before the summer ended, death came
to end his sufferings and bear him to the unknown
world. Upon the death of his only child, George, by his
will, became the master of Mount Vernon, which,
added to the estate he had inherited from his father
on the banks of the Rappahannock, made him, at
twenty, one of the wealthiest of planters.
The French began at the North to build a chain
of forts ; one in the Ohio region roused the ire of
the English ; they denied the claims of the French,
and meant to resist them.
When Governor Dinwiddie was seeking an agent
to interview the commandant, and remonstrate
against the building of forts, Washington, just
twenty-one, offered his services to tread, in mid
winter, the trackless forest, beset with unfriendly
savages. He performed his task with the skill of a
veteran. Though he only brought back the ambigu
ous answer of the polite, wily Frenchman, his mili
tary eye had noted much that it was well for the
English governor to know.
Troops were called out, a regiment formed, and
the command given to Washington, with title of
lieutenant-colonel. An advance was made, but as
the French and Indians had taken the field with

8 LADY WASHINGTON.
greatly superior numbers, the attempt was a failure,
and, for the time, abandoned.
Then followed more stirring times ; Braddock
came from England with two regiments to do more
than remonstrate against fort-building south of Lake
Erie. He heard the praises of the young colonel
who had been at the French forts, and invited him
to headquarters. Washington eagerly obeyed the
summons. There had been a distinction made between the
pay and rank of a provincial officer and one who
held a commission from the king. Washington,
having too much self-respect to submit to insult or
injustice, had resigned and retired to Mount Vernon.
To obviate the difficulty, Braddock invited him to
join his military family as aide-de-camp. His mili
tary ardor being aroused to fight under one of the
most skilled generals of the British army, he gladly
accepted and joined the troops bound for the Monon
gahela. Used only to militia troops, his eyes kindled with
delight at the brilliant display of the perfectly
drilled and finely equipped soldiers, under their
martinet commander.
As the march went on, the young aide ventured to
make a suggestion to the officer of His Grace the
King. It was rejected, if not scorned.
An Englishman can m^rch, fjre, fight, if it be done

LADY WASHINGTON. 9
according to the military rule in which he has been
drilled — none better — can even fight after he has
been whipped, too obtuse to find it out ; but there is
in him.no versatility of talent to adapt himself to
any peculiar tactics of his foe. Now he has to deal
with skulking savages, but " regulars " must stand in
squads, and shoot by rule. Screen themselves by
trees ! Heaven forbid ! better die, and die they did.
Braddock, after having five horses killed under him,
was mortally wounded. Only four officers alive and
unwounded of the eighty-six who had marched so
gallantly forth !
Now that the battle is fought and lost, our young
provincial and the despised Virginia Rangers come
to the front and bear away the dying commander
and lead the shattered remnant to a place of
safety. The English chaplain being wounded, Washington
read the burial service over the brave officer he had
so admired, and laid him in a grave in the forest.
There was one man at least in the land, who was
not surprised by Braddock's defeat. Franklin had
been in England and knew Englishmen. When
the consequential general came, he had assisted in
his equipment, and given some advice as to Indian
ambuscades. The way it was taken — the general's
confident smile at his ignorance of the skill of the
" King's regulars " in fighting savages, told him that

IO LADY WASHINGTON.
the man was going to his ruin, and the fort would
not be taken.
Money was raised in Philadelphia for fireworks
to celebrate the victory. Franklin declined giving,
on the ground that there would be no victory to
celebrate. The story of the defeat went to England, where it
was told, that the provincial aide-de-camp had said
that the whistling of the bullets was like music in
his ears, and so earned the title of " braggadocio,"
years before_ he was known as the arch-rebel of
America. George II. sneeringly remarked " that if
he had heard more, he would not have thought so."
In after years, Washington said if the words were
his, they were spoken when he was very young.
At twenty-four he went to Boston, to confer with
the military authorities on the vexed subject of
rank. On his return he tarried in New York, and
there he came again in contact with troublesome
"young women." As in his boy days, his heart
settled upon the fairest and brightest, but "faint
heart ne'er won fair lady." While our modest
Washington was dallying about, afraid to woo too
boldly, his brother-in-arms, the bolder Morris, talked
business, and the fair Mary Philipse, mistress of
broad acres on the Hudson, was won.
Active service again healed the wounds of love.
For the fourth time Washington was ordered to

LADY WASHINGTON. II
Fort Du Quesne, to lead Virginia troops to do what
the skilled Braddock had failed to do.
This time the lion of England devoured the lilies
of France, and the red-cross banner of St. George
waved on the banks of the Monongahela.
Washington was now famous, his name familiar
in all the colonies. Again, one of those "young
women " crossed his path. He was making one of
his military trips on horseback and vvas ferried over
the Pamunkey to the, estate of Mr. Charnberlaype.
The hospitable owner met him and urged a visit to
the house. Washington, without that strict regard
to truth which has so immortalized him, declined, on
the ground that his military business with the gov
ernor was too urgent for delay. His would-be host
must have known something of his fondness for
women, for he descanted upon the guests gathered
at the house, among whom was a widow, young, rich,
and charming. Washington, never proof against
such inducements, accepted for dinner, with the
proviso that he should leave as soon as it was over,
and ride through the night, that he may keep his
promise of meeting the governor at dawn.
The young woman did her work upon his heart,
and "love ruled the hour." This time he struck a
responsive chord. At the appointed time, the faith
ful servant brought round his horse, was met by
the smiling host, and ordered to stable him for the

12 LADY WASHINGTON.
night. Had the Heavens fallen.' — was his exact
and punctual master to play the governor false .'
The next day, the sun was high before Washing
ton spurred his way to Williamsburg. He did his
business with despatch and returned to visit the
widow in her home, called the White House, a name
which the , nation has fondly preserved in the presi
dential mansion. An engagement was formed, which
ended in marriage, on Twelfth Night, 1759, at St.
Peter's church — in the presence of the bride's
father, children, and a host of distinguished guests.
The bridegroom was dressed in a red velvet coat
and embroidered waistcoat ; the bride, in rich white
silk. It was a gay party that returned to the White
House to eat the marriage feast, and toast the pair
in champagne and rich wines, that were served with
out stint.
All the servants on the entire estate were given a
holiday, and in holiday attire joined in the merry
making. Mr. and Mrs. Washington danced the minuet, and
the house rang with laughter, merriment, music, and
dancing. All the house servants were given a slice of cake
and a piece of money.
Washington rose early and ate with his bride in
her chamber, before the guests had risen.

LADY WASHINGTON. 1 3
The portrait of Mrs. Washington, painted by
Woolaston, in the days of her widowhood, presents
a woman rather below the middle size, but extremely
well-shaped, with an animated face, dark chestnut
hair, and hazel eyes — not a beauty, but very attrac
tive. She is said to have had those frank, engaging
manners so captivating in Southern women.
Washington was a member of the House of Bur
gesses, and for three months lived in the home of
his wife. The session over, Mrs. Washington and
her two children, a boy of six and a girl of three,
were driven to Mount Vernon.
Washington wrote his English relatives that now
he had an " agreeable partner he should settle down
to domestic life." Life was like that of a gentle
man's country life in England, — driving, visiting,
fox-hunting, shooting, boating, and agricultural pur
suits, filled up a round of pleasures. Mrs. Wash
ington had a chariot with four horses, and black
postilions in white and scarlet livery ; if her husband
joined her, it was on horseback, only on Sundays
did he use a carriage.
Upon this almost holiday life began to be heard
the low mutterings of a coming storm. Upon the
arrival of the Stamp Act in Massachusetts, the
tempest broke and out of it came the whirlwind.
England, astonished and alarmed, repealed, and
things took on a brighter aspect, but with the

14 LADY WASHINGTON.
shortsightedness of George III., and with England's
generosity, she declared her right to levy taxes at
will, and again the parted clouds rolled together.
Washington carefully scanned the political horizon,
and kindled at the oppression of the mother country.
While he was sitting at session in Williamsburg,
1773, Mrs. Washington wrote him of the alarm
ing illness of her daughter. This girl, just budding
into womanhood, was very beautiful, — a brunette of
so dark a type that she went by the name of the
"dark lady." She inherited her father's face, and a
delicacy of constitution which had always been a
cause of great anxiety.
The frail, lovely girl had been an especial favorite
with her stepfather, and she returned his fondness
with all the warmth of a young girl's heart, — at her
death giving him her great fortune.
Hearing of her illness, Washington hastened to
her side, threw himself on his knees and prayed :
before the prayer had ended, her spirit had passed
away. For a time, Washington, to console his wife, re
mained at home, though he had made an engage
ment to go into the western country with Lord
Dunmore. ,
The only differences between Washington and his
wife, which have corae down to us, were on the sub
ject of managing the children. As they were hers,

LADY WASHINGTON. 1 5
not his, and independent of him, he felt much deli
cacy in interfering with the discipline.
The girl had been gentle and obedient, not spoiled
by indulgence and petting, but with the boy it was
different. Washington would often say he could govern men,
but not boys. Two years before Miss Martha's
death, . Master John Parke had been sent to Annap
olis, to study with an Episcopal clergyman.
When Washington returned from one of his mili
tary trips, he found that arrangements were made,
with the mother's consent, for the boy to go abroad,
taking his teacher for a travelling companion. He
was resolute in opposing the scheme. The boy's ed
ucation was very imperfect ; he had been rather
given to fox-hunting and other outdoor sports, and
now he was approaching manhood. Another con
sideration was the expense. The services of the
reverend gentleman would be a heavy charge, —
would anticipate half his income, wrote his step
father. There was much controversy over it; but
where duty was concerned, Washington could be viery
firm, even with his wife. The journey was postponed,
if not abandoned.
After the burial of his sister, the young gentle
man presented a new and far more serious 'difficulty
for the consideration of his family. He bas asked
Eleanor Calvert to be his wife, and she has promised

1 6 LADY WASHINGTON.
that she will. The youth of eighteen was ready to re
deem his pledge to this young lady of fifteen. His
mother had heard the love-tale earlier, and had not
been shocked. Mr. Calvert had been duly asked for
his daughter, and had given his consent. Washing
ton was in dismay, — rather wished the boy were
travelling in Europe.
Miss Nelly came from the best of blue blood, was
the d'augbter of Benedict Calvert, granddaughter of
Lord Baltimore. She was very pretty, and very
charming; no objection to the girl.
Washington thought it unnecessary for a -gentle
man to be a. scholar, but this boy was deficient in
arithmetic, — in the common branches of learning.
It was rather delicate business for hira to present
objections to Mr. Calvert, but the affair must be
postponed. It was finally arranged that the young
gentleman should go to King's College, New York,
and remain two years ; then the marriage should take
place. Washington accompanied him there, and made
all necessary arrangements.
John Parke 'Custis did not love study nor books —
was homesick ; visions of pretty Nelly Calvert floated
before his eyes, and he spent most of his time scrib
bling to her.
In a few-months he was at home again, urging an
imniediate marriage.
In consideration of the boy's inclination, the de-

LADY WASHINGTON. 1 7
sire of his mother and the consent of his friends,
Washington felt that it was not wise, at the last,
to push his opposition too far, and submitted to
necessity. The children were married at Mt. Airy, I\Iaryland,
and the bride was brought to Mount Vernon.
The mutterings of the rising storra grew louder
and louder. Long before, the English governraent
had sown the dragon's teeth, and had kept them well
watered ; now the tirae of harvest was setting in.
Boston had risen in her might, made tea in Mas
sachusetts Bay, thus defying the power of Great
Britain. George the Third, in almost crazy fury,
determined to mete out due punishment to the
rebels, — grass should grow in the busy streets of
Boston. A new governor was sent, with two regiments of
soldiers, to do the royal will and crush the commerce
of the rebels.
Before, there had been no union araong the colo
nies, but the oppression of England and the resist
ance of Boston roused the spirit of the people, and,
at the suggestion of Franklin, a general Congress
met at Philadelphia, of which body, Washington was
a member. Little was done, and tiraes grew darker, and men
more sober, until the story of Lexington and Con
cord was told, when it was determined that the little

1 8 LADY WASHINGTON.
band defying the British Regulars around Boston
should be the nucleus of an army to oppose Great
Britain. Washington was unanimously chosen commander-
in-chief. Touching was the letter he wrote his wife,
begging her to summon all her fortitude, and to pass
her time as agreeably as possible ; yet he was not
thinking it more than a summer's campaign. Seven
long years of trial and anxiety followed, and Wash
ington saw Mount Vernon but once.
In July he took command of the array beneath an
elm in Cambridge, Massachusetts. In November, he
invited Mrs. Washington to join him, at the same
time ordering his agent to keep up the hospitalities
of his house. " Let no one go away hungry." Mrs.
Washington came in her own chariot drawn by four
horses, with black postilions in white and scarlet liv
ery. Her coming brightened the dark days for him
and for the army. That winter, Washington made a
house in Cambridge historic, which Longfellow has
since made classic.
On New Year's Day, 1776, the Union flag of thir
teen stripes was hoisted for the first time " in com
pliment to the United Colonies," and there were
great festivities held in the general's quarters. ¦
It had been the custom at Mount Vernon to cele
brate Twelfth Night — the anniversary of the wed
ding. Mrs. Washington was reluctant to omit its

LADY WASHINGTON. 1 9
observance, and proposed giving a party at head
quarters. Washington objected — thought it un
seemly. His wife was never the man of the house,
but had very coaxing ways, and when she had a per
sonal whim or fancy to gratify, she was very sure he
could not hold out against her. Twelfth Night was
celebrated with great elegance, and there are tradi
tional memories of other entertainments, which were
equally fine.
One bright, sunny morning in March, His Majes
ty's officers, cooped in Boston, opened their eyes
very wide, — the view was not exactly exhilarating.
Heights which commanded the city and its harbor
were covered with works.
Thinking there must be genii in the American
army and they were rubbing Aladdin's wonderful
lamp, they thought it the better part of valor to sail
away, warning Washington that they would burn
the city if he fired a shot. They went to Halifax
to recuperate their spirits, after being outwitted.
Washington,, with his family and army, removed to
New York.
The Americans had won the first point in the
game, and the commander-in-chief was waiting for
the second deal.
" When I first took command of the army," he
said, " I abhorred the idea of independence ; but now
I am fully convinced that nothing else will save us."

20 LADY WASHINGTON.
There were raany cases of small-pox among the
troops, and Washington felt great anxiety, lest his
wife might take the disease. He urged that she
should submit to inoculation. At this very time,
Jenner knew the cow-pox was the better remedy, but
he had not given his discoveries to the world. There
was a violent prejudice against inoculation. So per
secuted was Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, that she
repented ever pouring her Turkish knowledge into
English ears. Mrs. Washington shared this preju
dice, but at Philadelphia, on her way to Mount Ver
non, she submitted to her husband's entreaties, and
the result was satisfactory.
The dramatic event of 1776 was the Declaration
of Independence. A unanimous vote of the thirteen
colonies was taken in its favor just after the hour of
noon. Fourth of July. The populace knew this day
was to decide the great event. From early morning
the old bellman had been in the belfry, having sta
tioned a boy below to give the signal. The hours
went by, and the old man began to lose hope;
" Ah ! " he groaned, " they will never do it. ' They
dare not do it ! " Just then the boy clapped, threw
up his hat and shouted, "Ring, bellman, ring!"
For two hours the man did ring, and the joyous peal
gave notice that the Declaration of Independence
was adopted, and rang a knell that England's author
ity over the colonies was over.

LADY WASHINGTON. 21
By a curious chance, upon the fillets of the bell,
imported from England years before, are the words :
" Proclaim liberty throughout all the land, unto all
the inhabitants thereof." When the news reached
New York, Washington commanded the Declaration
to be read at the head of each brigade.
The second winter was spent at Morristown, and
^gain Mrs. Washington and wives of the officers
came to headquarters, but we hear of no parties or
any gayety. Winter set in early and was uncom
monly severe. The troops, hutted on the heights,
without blankets, were for weeks on half rations, —
sometimes without bread or meat. The presence of
ladies in camp, intent on charity and deeds of kind
ness, did rauch to dispel the gloom, and the blessings
of thousands followed them, when the season was over.
It was in this winter of almost actual starvation^
that Mrs. Philipse, the mother of Miss Mary of " Lang
Syne," complained by letter to Washington, that his
troops had stolen her cows, and the faraily had to do
without milk. He courteously replied, " Far be it
from me to add to the distress of a lady who, I am
but too sensible, must already have suffered much
uneasiness, if not inconvenience, on account of Col
onel Philipse's absence ; " assuring her that cows
should be sent her, but she must be on honor not to
keep raore than was necessary for the private use of
her family.

22 LADY WASHINGTON.
At one time, Washington's headquarters were in
the house where he had once tried to suramon cour
age to whisper a love tale to its fair mistress.
How widely had the paths of the two diverged !
Major Morris and his lady were quartered among the
Royalists. Times were hard for the patriots, but now and
then Washington would do some daring deed. One
Christmas night, he burst upon a card- playing, wine-
drinking party, and accomplished such brilliant re
sults that the effect upoij the country was electrical.
Early in the new year, he swept around Princeton.
When Cornwallis thought he heard thunder, an
officer said, " To arms, general ! Washington has
outgeneraled us. Let us fly to the rescue of Prince
ton ? " The mischief was done and the rebel chief
beyond pursuit. As he was so elusive. Lord Dun
more, his old companion, planned to capture his wife
and lay his estate in ruins. The Virginia militia
rushed to arms, and the scheme failed.
In February, 1778, Mrs. Washington joined her
husband at Valley Forge. She wrote her daughter-
in-law : " The general's apartments are very small ;
he has had a log cabin built for a dining-room, which
has made our quarters much more tolerable than
they were at first." Sometimes the only food was
bacon and greens served on tin dishes. Dinners
were conducted with as much ceremony as if turtle

LADY WASHINGTON. 23
soups, canvas-back ducks, and terrapin were served
on silver plate and porcelain.
Once on inviting two ladies to dine at headquarters,
Washington playfully wrote the bill of fare, lest imag
ination might stimulate their appetites — adding how
ever that when his cook wishes to cut a figure which
he will do in honor of lady guests, he tacks a beef
steak pie and a dish of crabs to the menu, all to be
served on " tin plates turned to iron, but not by
polishing." Late one October night, the family at Mount Ver
non were surprised by the return of the master.
The visit was a hurried and busy one. It was the
first tirae he had seen the grandchildren of his wife,
four in nuraber. He was on his way to join Lafay
ette and confront Cornwallis at Yorktown. The sur
render was the next great act in the drama, and very
imposing it was. The French provided the music.
His Majesty's troops, compelled to file by their con
querors with cased colors, were sullen and angry,' and
threw down their arms with such force that the
greater part were ruined. To the grief of his mother,
the stepson of Washington followed him to Yorktown
as aide-de-camp. Every day a courier was sent frora
headquarters, but when he carried the glad tidings of
surrender, he carried disraay to the heart of the
mother ; her only son was lying ill of camp fever.
She and the young wife hurried to his side — the

24 LADY WASHINGTON.
coachman was bidden not to spare horses that day..
They came, — thank God, he was alive ! — but they
could only speak a farewell and he was gone, struck
down in the prime of early manhood — just twenty-
eight. Washington was thought to be many miles away,
but as the two women stood bending over their dead,
he walked into the room. He was ardently attached
to the young man, and at the sight of his dead face,
threw himself upon a sofa and sobbed like a woman.
To console his wife, he adopted the two younger
children, Eleanor, Custis and George Washington
Parke Custis, as his own.
Their mother was reluctant, but as the doors of
Mount Vernon were to be open to herself and the
older children, when it suited her to be there, she
yielded consent.
A swift horseman sent from camp reached Phila
delphia at two in the morning. Watchmen tore
through the streets shouting, " Past two o'clock and
Cornwallis is taken." Lights flashed from the win
dows, people half dressed thronged the streets.
They fell into each other's arras ; could it be true .'
One man died of joy. The old bellman hurried to
the steeple, the militia to their cannons, and the
boys kindled^ bonfires. The horseman sped on as
if he were on the wings of the wind. Every town
and hamlet in the land had its celebration.

LADY WASHINGTON. 2$
Old Lord Fairfax, who had remained a stanch
Royalist, said to his servant, " Turn me to the wall,
John ; it is time for me to die."
The news crossed the ocean. Lord North re
ceived it as if he were shot by a pistol, threw up
his arms, exclaiming : " Oh God ! it is all over."
Washington, with his wife,-was at Newberg, ready
for a new campaign ; but British statesmen felt as
Lord North, that all was over and peace must be
granted. The treaty was signed at Paris and read at
the head of the brigades of the Araerican army, on
the nineteenth of April, a day destined to be memor
able in the annals of the country. The army was
not disbanded until the English and Hessians had
sailed for horae, which took place in Noveraber. In
December, Washington resigned his coramission at
Annapolis. Mrs. Washington journeyed from Mount
Vernon to meet him, and Congress gave a dinner
and a ball in their honor. On Christmas Eve, the
proud and happy wife returned to Mount Vernon in
company with its master. More than five years
were spent in private life ; she dispensed the
boundless hospitalities of the house with a tact
and graciousness which charmed her guests. Wash
ington would say, "There is always a bit of mutton
and a glass of wine for a friend," and the warm wel
come made them very palatable.
Washington had selected the site of the city

26 LADY WASHINGTON.
which bears his name, and laid the corner stone
of the present Capitol, called one of the most
beautiful buildings in the world. His chief interest
centred in the progress of the city. From the first
there was a difficulty in purchasing land, the owners
holding it for fabulous prices which turned the
city in an opposite direction from that originally
intended, and accounts for the Statue of Liberty on
the dome of the Capitol, rather turning away from
the city than towards it.
Washington parleyed with Burns, a Scotchman,
who owned a large tract of land, and pointed out the
advantages that the location of the city would be to
his property. With the Scotch indifference to the
presence of power, and scorn of authority, he said:
" r suppose you think folks here are going to take
every grist that comes frae you as pure meal ; but
who'd you a ben, sir, and where'd yOu a ben, sir, ef
you hadn't uv married the Widder Custis .' " If
Washington had occasion to speak of him after
wards, it was as that " very obstinate man."
Artists and sculptors pressed their claims, and the
great man had to pay the penalty of being great.
As he put it, he was at first as restive as a colt is of
the saddle ; the next time, there was less flouncing,
but now no dray raoves more readily to the thill
than he does to the painter's chair. The best like
ness of Washington is said to be the one called the

LADY WASHINGTON. 27
pitcher portrait. The pitchers were imported from
England. A Philadelphia gentleman managed to
cleanly separate the part bearing the portrait from
the pitcher. It was handsomely framed and sent to
Mount Vernon to Judge Washington, a nephew who
inherited the estate.
Gifts of affection and appreciation were sent the
general by his .countrymen, by private English
gentlemen, and by crowned heads. It is often
claimed in the present day that the greatness,
especially the military greatness of Washington is
overrated, but Frederick the Great inscribed upon
his gift : " From the oldest general in the world to
the greatest," and there was never any mere glamor
of sentiment about hira.
The French officers, who served in the war, gave
Mrs. Washington a set of Sevres china. Around
the outside of each cup and tureen, and the inside
of each plate and saucer, is painted a chain of thir
teen large links and thirteen sraall elliptical links.
Within each link is the narae of one of the original
thirteen states. Her monograra is on each piece,
enclosed in a beautiful gr^en wreath of laurel and
olive, from which spread rays of gold, making it very
brilliant. Again the country called for the wise and honored
Washington ; this time to be the head of civil affairs,
as he had been before of the military.

28 LADY WASHINGTON.
Mrs. Washington was a perfect Virginian house
wife, could judiciously direct her numerous servants,
could receive guests with amenity and grace, and
could preside with dignity. So accustomed had she
become to knitting in camp for the soldiers, that the
needles were rarely out of her hands. She was as
reluctant to leaVe this pleasant, comfortable life as
her husband.
She tarried a month after his departure. Accom
panied by the grandchildren, Miss Nelly and Master
George, she set out in her own travelling carriage,
with an escort of horse, to join her husband in New
York. On the route, bells were rung and cannons
were fired, as if she were raaking a royal progress.'
Washington met her at Elizabeth ; from thence
they crossed in his splendid barge presented at the
inauguration, manned by thirteen master pilots,
dressed in white. Thirteen guns were fired as they
rounded the battery. Amid deafening cheers and
booming cannon she stepped into the presidential
mansion, " first lady " of the land. It was not a role
to her taste, but she was a true woman, and gloried
in her husband's honors, and meant that the elegant
etiquette due to the head of the nation should be
maintained. '
The question of etiquette in this new court was a
vexed one. John Adaras, versed in the glare of for
eign courts, was not ready to cast loose from royal

LADY WASHINGTON. 29
titles and splendors, thought the President should
only be interviewed through the Minister of State.
Jefferson was intolerant of any style, so there was a
din at the outset. Washington said he was neither
master of himself nor of his house.
It was decided that he was to have no title but
that of President. By courtesy, guests addressed
him, as "Your Excellency," and his wife as "Lady
Washington." In honor of her arrival, her husband
gave a dinner party. On Friday, and every succeed
ing Friday, she held a levee. Her doors were not
easy of access, and a certain style of dress was re
quired, — d^coUetd and bare arms, swallow-tail coats,
ruffles in sleeves and shirt fronts. The President's
wife sat, while others stood. There was no shaking
of the hands ; the stiffness and formality of royalty
prevailed. The hours were from eight to ten. If
the guests failed to mark the time on the tall clock,
by very plain words she would smilingly disraiss
them : "The President retires at ten, and I usually
precede him."
When Mrs. Washington honored one with a call, a
footman in livery was sent to announce her coming ;
after a proper interval she started, accompanied by a
gentleman of the household. Did she wish to take
an airing with Master and Miss Custis, the fine,
cream-colored coach, frescoed with Cupids bearing
festoons of flowers, emblazoned with the Washington

30 LADY WASHINGTON.
arras, imported from -England, with six bay horses
attached (full-blooded ones), attended by outriders,
was brought to her door ; frequently, the President
" exercised " with them.
Mrs. Washington was even more indulgent with
her grandson than she had been with his father.
His sister would say : " Grandmamma always spoiled
hira." His daughter, in a memoir, said: "Had he
been under sterner discipline, he might have done
more for his own and for his country's good."
The grandmother was very fond of Nelly Custis,
but somehow she seemed to think a thorough training
more necessary for girls than for boys. Her own
daughter had never needed control, was all gentleness
and docility, but this Nelly was full of vivacity, and
had a will of her own. " The poor girl," said her
brother, " would play and cry, and cry and play, for
four or five hours a day, under the immediate eye of
her grandraother." Then her lessons must be scru
pulously learned.
Washington liked to exact submission to thorough
discipline from the boy,, much as he loved him, but
for this girl he had a very soft spot in his heart.
There were the same faraily jars that had risen in
the days when the stepchildren were young.
Washington imported a harpsichord, costing one
thousand dollars, hoping its elegance would make
the daily practising easier. The eight official years

LADY WASHINGTON. 3 I
were spent, and the public life ended. Mrs. Wash
ington called them the " lost years " of her life, and
the President said he had lived in a " hornet's nest,"
and yet, he added indignantly, they said, " I desired
to be king."
No forraal regulations had then been made as to
state dinners, but Mrs. Washington decided to give a
large party the day before the close of the adminis
tration. The Listens, Wolcotts, Pickerings, McHen-
rys, Cushings, Binghams, Adamses, Jefferson, were all
there, with the foreign ministers and their wives, and
several church dignitaries. On the removal of the
cloth, the President rose quite unexpectedly, saying :
" Ladies and gentlemen, this is the last time I shall
drink your health as a public, man. I do it with sin
cerity, wishing you all possible happiness." Bishop
White, who was a guest and described the scene,
said : " This put an end to all pleasantry, and forced
tears into raany eyes."
On the ninth of March of 1797, the coach with its
six bay horses, flanked by outriders, stood at the
door of the presidential mansion. General and Mrs.
Washington, Master and Miss Curtis, and the son of
Lafayette, with his preceptor, were driven to Mount
Vernon. Guests were more nuraerous than ever ; to relieve
himself, Washington invited his nephew, Major Lau
rence Lewis, to assist in entertaining them, espe-

32 LADY WASHINGTON.
cially evenings, that he might indulge his inclination
of retiring soon after candlelight.
No complaints were ever made that young Lau
rence neglected his duties, but, in addition to them,
he found time to hang over Miss Nelly's harpsichord,
take moonlight walks in the grounds, and whisper
tales that her grandmother would rather that she
did not hear from his lips. There was a frequent
visitor at the house, and if he whispered the same
story, and Nelly listened with a beating heart and
mantling cheek, there would be no harm done. The
visitor was Charles Carroll, — a Carroll of Carrolton,
— travelled, accomplished, adorned with the social
graces derived from a sojourn in foreign lands.
Her brother joined her grandmother in singing
the young man's praises, and advocating his suit.
Not so the grandfather ; and as for Miss Nelly, in
the proud flush of her seventeen years and happy
maidenhood, she didn't mean, to marry anybody.
She liked to wander in the woods alone, to indulge
in "meditations, fancy free." Grandmamma thought
it wrong and unsafe, and forbade it. Nelly's incli
nation and restive disposition led her out in the
gloaming again. She knew she was in the wrong,
and listened silently to a severe reprimand, making
no excuses. As she left the room, she heard her
grandfather say, " My dear, I would say no more, —
perhaps she was not alone." The girl's spirit rose,

LADY WASHINGTON. 33
she turned and stood before him. " Sir, you brought
me up to speak the truth, and when I told grand-
mam raa I was alone, I hope you believed I was
alone." •
He made one of his most magnanimous bows, say
ing : " My child, I beg your pardon."
Before Miss Nelly's decisive plans for remaining
single had fully matured. Major Lewis used some
sort of convincing arguments, which induced her to
change her mind.
The engagement was very satisfactory to her
grandfather, and he celebrated the wedding, which
Miss Nelly arranged should be on his birthday, in
old Virginia style. She planned and coaxed in vain,
that he should wear the gold-laced uniform adopted
by the army officers. On national f^te days he wore
the continental uniforra, and he would appear in no
other. It was only this girl bride and Light Horse
Harry who ever took liberties with the dignified
general. Irving relates the extreme length to which
the latter would go in his jokes ; he was one day
dining at Mount Vernon when
" Washington mentioned his being in want of
carriage horses, and asked Lee if he knew where he
could get a pair.
" ' I have a fine pair, general,' replied Lee, ' but
you cannot get them.'
" ' Why not ? '

34 LADY WASHINGTON.
" ' Because you will never pay more than half price
for anything ; and I must have full price for my
horses.' " The bantering reply set Mrs. Washington laugh'
ing, and her parrot perched beside her joined in the
laugh. The general took this farailiar assault upon
his dignity in good part. 'Ah, Lee, j'ou are -a
funny fellow,' he said, ' see, that bird is laughing
at you.' "
The year which began with wedding bells, was to
end in dirges. The angel who had entered the house
so many times before was even now spreading its
wings to bear away the best beloved. The blow fell
in chill Deceraber. As Mrs. Washington sat at the
foot of the bed, fearing, dreading what might come,
she knew it had come by the looks of anguish painted
on the faces of those about her. In a firm and col
lected voice she said, " Is he gone ? "
Thrice a mother, yet childless ; twice widowed, is
it strange that she said : " 'Tis well, all is now over ;
I shall soon follow him ; I have no raore trials to
-pass through." She rose, looked at her dead, tot
tered to the door, turned, gave a last look and never,
in the thirty months left to her, entered the room
again. An old negro servant who showed the house to a
visitor said: "The gen'al's roora is de room I likes
de bes' in de house." The bedstead, a little table, a

LADY WASHINGTON. 35
secretary, a trunk, his leathern chair with his military
cloak thrown over it, and a surveyor's tripod, are all
there as they were eighty-nine years ago. " Many
wonders," said the servant, " why Mrs. Washington
died up in de attic, and not in de gen'al's room. It
was the custom in de family to shut up a roora for
two years after a death had happened in it, an' dis
roora was shut up. Mrs. Washington went up in de
attic an' dere she stayed for thirty mu'n's, till she
died dere. She never had no fire in de winter, an' in
de summer it was very hot, but dere she stayed, wif
only her cat fur comp'ny."
There is a square cut from the lower part of the
door for the use of this companion. Mrs. Washing
ton fell into a gentle melancholy, which overshad
owed her life, till she felt that the glad sumraons for
which she longed was on its way. Then she grew
radiant, blessing those to be left behind, and bidding
them a blissful farewell.
Born in the fresh ¦ springtime, in the fresh spring-
tirae she was laid by the side of our Washington,
who had made her name immortal.
Long before Washington's death, he wished to
manumit his servants, but the intermixture by mar
riage with the "dower negroes" raade it impractica
ble. He made provision in his will that upon the
death of his wife, they should have their freedom.

36 LADY WASHINGTON.
Mrs. Washington waived her right of dower, and the
matter was settled at once.
It was the son of the " Lowland Beauty," who pro
nounced Washington's eulogy, made memorable by
the words : " First in war, first in peace, first in the
hearts of his countrymen."

MRS. JOHN ADAMS.
The wife of the first President of these United
States was born and bred in the purple; how differ
ent the birth and training of the wife of the second
in, the presidential order.
Miss Abigail Smith, the daughter and grand
daughter of a Congregationalist clergyman, was born
at Weymouth, Massachusetts.
The family income was small, every dollar must
tell its full hundred cents. Life was without ser
vants ; sons must be educated, but for the girls what
mattered it .' It was the fashion of the day even to
ridicule a woraan's learning, if she had any. Girls
were to stay by the hearthstone and bear full share
of the household burdens, not light ones when the
parson tilled a farm in addition to his parochial
duties. Miss Abigail spent the greater part of her girlhood
at the home of her maternal grandfather. Colonel
John Quincy. The grandmother was the daughter
of a clergyman, and the daily life was maintained in
strict conformity with the austere religion of a hun
dred years ago. However, the girl had no frivolity
about her, and the grandmother's heart was very
37

38 MRS. JOHN ADAMS.
loving. Her lessons on frugality and piety, she ad
mits, made a deeper irapression on her mind than
those of her own parents.
Books were few, but what were to be found in the
horaes to which she had access were standard.
Eagerly did the young girl read all that carae in her
way ; that she stored carefully what she read is
shown by her free use of quotations ; at times she
seeras almost pedantic. Horaes were widely scat
tered, means too narrow for journeying, therefore
little intercourse could be had, save by letter writing.
She seeraed fanciful about her signature. As a
girl, she was Diana ; perhaps after her marriage, she
thought it not fit to bear the name of one vowed to
maidenhood, for she assumed that of Portia, maybe,
as better fitted to her prudence, courage, and con-
gugal fidelity.
This apparently isolated young girl, never sent to
any school, always in ill-health, spent a happy,
joyous life, and in those days of her solitary girl
hood, if denied music and dancing, acquired that
habit of easy letter writing which has given her a
wider literary celebrity than that of any of her suc
cessors in the presidential mansion. Her letters
were written in those stormy days when household
items tell so much.
Those who have time to read Bancroft can know
all American history, but to every woman's heart is

MRS. JOHN ADAMS. 39
dear the way women fought the battle of life in
those troublous days, and how charmingly she tells
the story in her faraily letters, describes events,
notes a thousand things that would have escaped a
man's eye.
When Miss Smith was nineteen, John Adaras,
the son of a poor farraer, a lawyer by profession,
who, if laurels were to be won, had yet to begin
the strife, carae to the parsonage a wooing. He
won the heart of the girl, but the parson father and
the parson grandfather looked coldly on the suit.
In those days, parsons held their heads high. The
Pope of to-day can hardly be raore absolute in the
church than was a Ne'w England parson, in colonial
days, in his own parish. Her sisters were thought
to be better mated, and our heroine losing caste by
uniting with one whose calling, if not rascally, was
surely not above suspicion.
Parishioners in country districts usually think that
when they hire a parson, the wife and children are
something thrown in as makeweights, upon whora
they have a claim, and over whora they have some
control. If. parsons walk a little awry, if the sons
have a few wild oats to sow — such things may
perhaps be condoned, but woe to the wives and
daughters, if off the common track.
The eldest. Miss Mary, had married an English
immigrant, who had not then risen to the height

40 MRS. JOHN ADAMS.
to which he in after years attained — Judge of the
Court of Comraon Pleas in Massachusetts.
Miss Elizabeth had married a parson. Reverend
John Shaw, settled in Haverhill, Massachusetts.
Hymen's torch was lighted for her a second time
by Reverend Mr. Peabody, of Atkinson, New Hamp
shire. Here was. Miss Abigail throwing herself away on
a young man of blue blood very much paler than
her own, who refused to till the ground as his
fathers had done before him, but had signed away
his patrimony that he might take a course at Har
vard, and then forsooth, he could put his learning
to no better use than standing up before twelve
men and trying to make black appear white, and
white appear black. It was scandalous ! What was
the parson thinking about .-'
The objections of the ancestral parsons gave way
to the pleadings of the young people, and before
the twentieth birthday, the parson father had per
formed the marriage ceremony and bestowed his
blessing, and a married home was set up in Brain
tree. However, the disaffected busybodies of the parish-
should have a quietus from the pulpit. The text
was, " For John came, neither eating bread nor
drinking wine, and ye say he hath a devil." At
the marriage of Miss Mary, two years earlier, he

MRS. JOHN ADAMS. 4 1
had preached from the text, "And Mary hath
chosen that good part, which shall not be taken
away from her."
Ten years of happy, wedded life passed, partly
in Braintree, partly in Boston, according as her
husband's impaired health or professional duties
required. The greatest anxiety was to lay the
foundations of a competency for age, and for the
rearing of the children. When away on his court
circuit he would write to his wife of the necessity
of cultivating the farm and attending to the stock
and dairy, rather unnecessary to one trained as she
had been, none of your modern blue-stockings, too
absorbed in her classical learning to be a practical
housewife. Without her, maybe, he might have been a bit
of a spendthrift, for when his law business is
brought to a standstill by the Stamp Act, he be
wails that he has spent an "estate in books,"
bought a pew and a house in Boston. He had not
then risen to the high plane of patriotism, which
later on his feet so fearlessly trod, for we read of
his taking sides against the incensed people who
had destroyed the furniture of the starap distributor,
and attacked the house of Governor Hutchinson.
As no law business can be done, he thinks he
must become foreman on his own farm and school
master to his own children.

42 MRS. JOHN ADAMS.
With the New England thrift, there was never a
bit of Sordid meanness in the man. Once lodging
with a friend, he tells his Portia that he gave pista-
reens enough to servants and children to pay his
charge twice over. He was a dear lover of the cup
that cheers, and he wrote of asking a country wo
raan, if she would raake him a dish, provided it had
been " honestly smuggled and no duties paid."
" No, sir, we have renounced all tea in this place,
but I '11 make you a cup of coffee," was the answer.
The sarae letter said, " For God's sake make your
children industrious, for activity and industry will
be their only resource and dependence."
A change is coming over the spirit of his dream,
the practical business man, so thoughtful for his
future, and for his children, is merging into a poli
tician and a zealous patriot ; no half-way measures
with John Adams. Even Otis said, " His zeal-pot
boils over."
Great political anxiety was felt throughout the
country. The other colonies heard the mutterings
of the storm, raised by North's shortsightedness and
George III.'s obstinacy, but in Massachusetts the
tempest raged. Otis and Samuel Adams had •
sounded the trumpet of revolution and made stir
ring speeches against the Stamp Act.
Blood had been shed on Boston Common. A
cargo of tea, upon which the English government

MRS. JOHN ADAMS. 43
levied a tax, was tossed iuto the sea. The port of
Boston was closed.
Mr. Adams left his wife, with four young children,
in a lonely country house to go to Philadelphia, to
take counsel with the other colonies. No lack of
encouragement for bold daring and mighty deeds
in her epistles. She bids him beware of the way in
which Sparta lost her liberty — she was like the
women of that country, she wanted her husband
with his shield, or upon it. She gives hira Polybius's
views upon peace and liberty. She expects great
and immediate results from this first united Con
gress. It is late in August now, and she hopes
that the fir^t of September will be of as rauch ira
portance to Great Britain as the Ides of March
were to Caesar.
In the midst of all this classical budget, the loving
heart of the wife and mother shone forth. He has
been absent from her side but a week and a day,
and she counts it raonths. She must have some
arausement to while away his absence, and she has
fixed upon Rollin's Ancient History, as the kind
that will best conduce to it. She has little Johnny,
seven years old, read a couple of pages a day, lest
he too may miss papa, and she hopes that such
small doses, taken to while away the time, may give
him a fondness for the book. He was a very pecu
liar boy, so possibly it did.

44 MRS. JOHN ADAMS.
Nineteenth-century scholars tell us that in the
light of recent excavations and deciphered hiero
glyphics, Rollin's account of the Ancients is very
wide of the mark ; but as Washington Irving said :
" It matters not, if things thousands of years ago
were not as they are written, if we only believe they
were so."
This modern knowledge is apt to unsettle one's
brain. Shakespeare didn't write. Tell didn't shoot,
Joan didn't burn, and at Christmastide the clergy
men unite to teach the children that even Santa
Claus is a myth.
Where ignorance is bliss, isn't it folly to be so
wise? Eighteen days from home, Mr. Adams was
within forty-two miles of Philadelphia. He wrote
his wife, that it would take a volume to describe
the journey. He is charmed with the amusement
that she has provided "for our little Johnny," and.
he hopes to hear a good account of his "accidence
and nonienclature," on his return. It is time to
teach him and the younger children, French.
Mr. Adaras returned to Braintree in October, but
in the spring, counsels were again held, and again
that perilous horseback ride to Philadelphia was
taken. When he was at Hartford, five days frora
home, a swift courier rode through the town telling
the story of Concord and Lexington. Full of anx-

MRS. JOHN ADAMS. 45
iety for wife and children, he sped on his way, writ
ing back, if danger threatened her home, to take
to the woods with the little ones. Heroic advice
in the month of April, but he knew the mettle of
the woman to whom he proffered it.
The state of affairs was very serious. Guards
were regularly kept, lest there might be a descent
upon the sea-coast. The woman made but little
complaint, but there is a touching pathos in the
letter written just after he left, "I tried to be in
sensible and heroic, yet my heart felt like a heart of
lead. Every line from you is like a precious relic
of the saints." When he reaches the "far country,"
she begs him to send her some pins, even if they
be ten dollars per package.
Her house was one scene of confusion, soldiers
came for lodging, for breakfast, for supper, for
drink, etc. Refugees from Boston, anxious and fa
tigued, sought an asylum for a day, a night, a week,
and her doors were open to all, and what hospitality
her scanty means allowed was given with right
good-will. Whortleberries and milk were often the
only food in the house.
From Penn's Hill, Mrs. Adams watched the battle
of Bunker Hill, the burning of Charlestown, and
daily looked for the destruction of Boston, but the
woman's heart never quailed, though she wrote,
"The constant roar of the cannon is so distressing

46 MRS. JOHN ADAMS.
that we cannot eat, drink, or sleep. We hear that
the troops destined for New York are all expected
here, but we have got to that pass that a whole
legion of them would not intimidate us."
The remarkable Johnny gives an account of the
times, —
".The year 1775, was the eighth year of my
age. . . . F"or the space of twelve months my
mother, with her infant children, dwelt liable every
hour of the day and of the night to be butchered
in cold blood — of being consumed with them all in
a conflagration, kindled by a torch in the same
hands which, on the Seventeenth of June, lighted
•the fires of Charlestown. I saw with my own eyes
those fires from Penn's Hill, and witnessed the tears
of my mother and mingled with them my own at
the fall of Warren, a dear friend of my father, and
a beloved physician to me. He had been our family
physician and surgeon, and had saved my forefinger
from amputation under a very bad fracture."
Before, there had been only strife and bickerings ,
with the mother country ; occasionally, an humble
remonstrance was laid at the foot of the throne, but
now Americans were rebels, rebels in arms, who,
as Franklin wittily put it, " must all hang together
or all hang separately."
Early in July, Washington drew his sword beneath
the Cambridge elm. In these days when it is

MRS. JOHN ADAMS. 47
almost the fashion to smile at the veneration in
which Washington was held, to express grave
doubts of his being either a soldier or a states
man, it is pleasant to note the favorable impression
he made upon a woman like Mrs. Adams. " I was
struck with General Washington. You had pre
pared me to entertain a favorable opinion of him,
but I thought the half was not told me."
A quotation hoarded up in her mind, slips from
her lips, — " Mark his majestic fabric ; he's a temple
Sacred by birth, and built by hands divine ;
His soul's the deity that lodges there ;
Nor is the pile unworthy of the god."
Most of the time for more than three years did
Mr. Adams sit at the council-board at Philadelphia.
What Mrs. Adams wrote him was worse than war, —
was the pestilence which followed in its train.
Some in every household were prostrated ; some
families stripped of every member. For four weeks
even the churches were closed. Five members of
her own family were ill at one time ; three died, one
of whora was her own mother. This was a severe
trial for the heroic woman, and her heart went out
to her husband with a cry of anguish.
At such a time her heart craves something more
than politics, than talks of the sagacity of Newton
and Locke, or the valor, bravery, and courage of the
Saracens and the Knights of Malta. She asks for

48 MRfe. JOHN ADAMS.
some " sentimental effusion of the heart." Mr. and
Mrs. Adams never indulged in any more endearing
epithet than that of " my dearest friend." If the
little ones loved papa their warmest word for
expressing it was, " respect."
Early in 1776, Mr. Adaras joined Congress for
the third tirae. In his youth he had hesitated
whether to choose the array, the church, or the
law for a profession. The army had been his
choice, but he had been unable to obtain a com
mission ; novv as he sees troops raised, and leaving
for the North, his martial spirit rekindles, and he
writes his wife that if an emergency come, he will
not fail to march, even if it be with rank and file.
By his absence at this time, we have an interest
ing account of the evacuation of Boston from the
facile pen of Portia. Unlike any other woman, she
is not elated, not even pleased ; rather mourns that
the cooped redcoats have slipped through our fin
gers ; would rather that there had been a meeting
at Philippi of which the ghost of Caesar told Brutus.
However, she thought Washington might say with
out boasting " "Veni, vidi, vici."
In the midst of these stirring times, she is amused
at her husband's Latin couplets, and thinks that his
daughter, ten years old, raay construe (she can't
heraelf) as she has already made " some considerable
proficiency in her accidence."

MRS. JOHN ADAMS. 49
Mr. . Adams returned home in October and re
mained three months. On reaching Fishkill, New
York, on his way back, he wrote that his journey
had been like that of " Hannibal's over the Alps."
It does one good to read that " if he could take his
wife to Philadelphia he should be as happy as a
bridegroom." Not that one can doubt their affec
tion, only one can but smile at their formal way of
expressing it. Repeatedly, she asked him to burn
her letters ; had he done so, how much we should
have lost, even if she be at times a little beyond us.
In the autumn of 1777, Mr. Adaras came home to
resume his law practice; in less than a raonth he
was chosen commissioner to France with advice to
weight his despatch-bags, ready to sink if captured.
If taken, he would be but a traitor, and the statute
against treason was death. With streaming eyes,
the noble wife counselled him to do his duty. This
time she was doubly lonely, for Johnnie, her oldest
boy, her "little post-rider," the man of the house,
sailed away with his father.
The surrender of Burgoyne, united with the influ
ence of Franklin and Lafayette, had induced France
to acknowledge the independence of the colonies, to
assist in which was the object of Mr. Adams's mis
sion. He felt stranded, was puzzled what to do ; " I
cannot eat pensions and sinecures ; they would

50 MRS. JOHN ADAMS.
choke me." Months go on and spring comes
round ; and he has had to submit to the choking.
At last came the news that Franklin alone was to
represent America at the French court, but he
indignantly exclaimed, " They never so much as
bid me come home, bid me stay, or told me I had
done well or done ill."
It is amusing to see how Franklin tried and vexed
the methodical New England lawyer. In his eyes,
the office of the embassy was all in confusion, —
important papers lying about, no books kept, no
time given to business ; the doctor seemed to be
always dining out, hobnobbing with the court; not
only embracing ladies, but actually embraced by
them. It was all true. Yet Franklin always
inspired confidence. By his tact, wit, humor, and
genial ways he could accomplish an immense amount
of diplomatic business, form treaties, negotiate loans, i
and bring French statesmen to his views, while the
precise, hard-working, irascible John Adams, always
treading upon some one's toes, was constantly giving
offence, and was snubbed by the officials with whom
he had to deal.
After eighteen months of perplexity and dissatis- |
faction, he was again upon the farm at Braintree,
ready to draw writs and deeds, and harangue juries. -
Two months later, he was ordered to Europe a
second time, to attempt to treat with Great Britain',!

MRS. JOHN ADAMS. 5 I
and end the war. In obedience, he sailed in Novem
ber, taking not only Johnny, but the second son,
Charles. " My habitation, how disconsolate it looks ; my
table, I sit down to it, but cannot swallow my
food;" moaned the wife and mother. When the
separation had stretched to three weary years, she
was asked if she would have given her consent, if
she could have foreseen the time.
" Yes, if need be, thrice three years, to have him
do what he has for his country," was her answer.
She was a true Portia.
The Treaty of Peace was signed, but Mr. Adams's
return was still uncertain, and he sent for his wife to
join him.
After some hesitation, ' she sailed with her daugh
ter in a merchant vessel. Her letters give us a vivid
description of what an ocean voyage was in the
days before James Watt had watched the nose of a
tea-kettle. After a residence of nine months in Auteuil, four
miles from Paris, Mr. Adams was appointed Minister
to England ; not a pleasant position, for the spirit of
the King rankled over the loss of his colonies, and he
treated the new ambassador with marked coldness,
and the court circle followed the lead of royalty. Our
Republican minister preserved his dignity and manly
independence. In the first interview, when the King

52 MRS. JOHN ADAMS.
would have him commit himself in regard to France,
he made the naive remark which has become famous
in history : " I must avow to Your Majesty that I
have no attachment but to my own country."
Mrs. Adams was made anxious by the thought
that she had the social repute of her countrywomen
to answer for. At her presentation, the Queen was
haughtily cool, and nothing but the duty of her posi
tion could have induced her to repeat her visit to St.
James. She wrote her sister : " Years hence it may
be a pleasure to reside here as an American minister,
blit with the present temper of the English, no one
need envy the embassy;" The keenness of her re
sentment is shown by her reraark years later, when
the French Revolution shook the British throne,
"Humiliation for Charlotte will be no sorrow for
me." It was some time before the Puritan children,
brought up on the secluded farm at Braintree, taking
part in the domestic duties, taught to be seen and
not heard, could become accustomed to the servants,
the pomp, and the expense of living at Paris and
London. Miss Abigail, the only daughter, was pre
sented to Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette, who
treated her with gracious sweetness.
Presented at St. James, she shared with her
mother, the cold British stare of Queen Charlotte
and her ladies. Little cared the American maiden ;

MRS. JOHN ADAMS. 53
the days were halcyon ones for her. She had met
and loved Colonel William Stephens Smith, and he
had asked her to be his wife ; he had been aide-de
camp to Washington, and now was secretary of the
legation. She was married in London and her mar
riage endowed her with her mother's maiden name.
The marriage proved rather unhappy, and was a
great source of grief to her parents. She died at
forty-eight, leaving several children. Johnny or John
Quincy as he was now called, had been chosen
private secretary to Mr. Dana, Minister to Russia,
had travelled extensively in Europe, and studied in
Paris. He returned to America before the faraily,
that he might graduate frora Harvard.
In the .spring of 1788, Mr. Adaras resigned, and
returned to his village home. A few months later,
he was chosen vice-president. ,
For eight years, Mrs. Adams lived at the capital,
¦first at New York, then at Philadelphia, and was one
of the social leaders of her day.
She was rather of the Minerva type, and inclined,
after the custora of her people, to return thanks that
she had no part in anything not New England.
It was said that when her New England frigidity
gave way and kindled into enthusiasm, it was not
like light straw on fire, but red-hot steel.
At the resignation of Washington, Mr. Adams
was chosen President ; and now the daughter of the

54 MRS. JOHN ADAMS.
village clergyman and t&e wife of the village lawyer
was " first lady " at the Republican court.
Mr. Adams's administration was unpopular. The
Alien and Sedition laws proved a fruitful source of
contention and bitter feeling. They were not the
product of his brain, but he did not veto or even op
pose them ; therefore, the obloquy of them rested
upon him.
Louis Sixteenth and Marie Antoinette had perished
by the guillotine, and there was a new order of gov
ernment in Prance.
Talleyrand, the excommunicated Bishop of Autun,
was the tricky minister for Foreign Affairs to the
Directory. In the arrogance of power, he treated
American ministers with contempt, — refused them
audience, covertly asking for a bribe. The gentle
men were not wanting in spirit, threw scorn into
their answer. " Millions for defence, but not a cent
for tribute," said Pinckney. That ended negotia
tions and the American Embassy in France ; our
flag was insulted on the high seas, and new depreda
tions were made on our commerce.
Mr. Adaras took the initiative in war measures,
and the people were so hot to avenge the insults,
that for a time he rode high on the wave of popular
favor. Washington was chosen commander-in-chief,
and all were breathless for the next move in the
game. It came from an unexpected quarter ; the

MRS. JOHN ADAMS. 55
wily Talleyrand threw out hints that he would meet
half-way measures. Adaras knew peace to be the
best policy for the country, and was patriotic enough
to eat his words and swallow his pride. However,
the Directory was at an end ; Talleyrand had resigned
and when American ministers negotiated again, it
was with Napoleon. The war cloud had rolled away.
Before the inauguration, Mrs. Adams had been
attacked by intermittent fever, which had so ira
paired her health, that she spent much of the time
on the home farm.
The new city of Washington had been laid out,
and in 1800, the Capitol and White House, so long
building, were ready for occupancy.
Mrs. Adams, travelling by the way of Baltimore,
joined her husband. Her account of the journey is
very amusing. They lost their way in the woods,
retraced their steps, and wandered two hours with
out finding a guide or the path. Finally, a straggling
negro came up and extricated them from their diffi
culty. The Executive Mansion she called a palace, — it
must have been a palace with miserable surroundings.
It had not then even the rough fence and turnstile
which later, Tom Moore wrote his mother, stood in
front of the President's home.
Inaugurating housekeeping, Mrs. Adams found to
be a very difficult task, — thirty servants required,

56 MRS. JOHN ADAMS.
and not abell in the house — no means of heating
or lighting the large establishment, and ladies clara
oring for a drawing-room. On New Year's Day,
1801, she held it with all the formality and etiquette
of royalty. The east room was unfinished, and used
as a drying room for the weekly washing. The
reception was held in the oval room directly over it;
Except on state occasions, Mrs. Adams was less cere
monious than Mrs. Washington, and scrupulously
returned visits like any other lady — " yesterday I
returned fifteen visits," she triumphantly wrote her
daughter. After a residence of four months she
went to her home in Braintree, or rather Quincy, for
the name of the town had been changed in honor of
Hon. Josiah Quincy.
Mr. Adams was crushed with shame and filled with
indignation, when his old friend, Thomas Jefferson,
defeated him in the presidential election. He even
lost his dignity. Frora raotives of delicacy, Jefferson
did not call for several days ; when he did, Mr.
Adams, for greeting, exclaimed, " You've turned rae
out! you've turned me out!" — it was petty, if meant
for vengeance. What was worse, and called uncourte-
ous, on March third, he sat until the clock was on
the stroke of twelve, making appointments, which
were termed the " midnight appointments." A new
law had given him the power, and he had wielded it
with personal hatred and partisan rage, which cost

MRS. JOHN ADAMS. ¦ 57
him the respect of raany friends, and erabittered his
enemies. The government was too new to say what was the
custom, but Washington had established the cour
teous i^recedent of riding with him to the Capitol,
lisening to his inaugural, and congratulating him
when he had taken the oath of office.
Then, the retiring President was the hero of the
day, but to play a second part in the inauguration of
a successor was beyond the magnanimity of John
Adaras. Before sunrise, he was in the saddle, and rode away
from the capital, and never visited it again.
Years after, Mrs. Adaras, without her husband's
knowledge, wrote Jefferson ; and by her tact and
innate good sense managed to renew the friendship
of the two men who had stood shoulder to shoulder
in the stormy days, at the formation of the govern
ment. If one wrote the Declaration of Indepen
dence, the other was the Atlas to bear it, until the
immortal fifty-six (himself one) eased him of the
burden. Mrs. Adaras had raaternal joys and sorrows in full
share. An infant daughter, her married daughter,
Mrs. Smith, and her second son, Charles, died before
her. The latter dying without fortune, his wife and
two children were dependent on Mr. Adaras for
maintenance. Thomas, the youngest, studied law

5 8 MRS. JOHN ADAMS.
in Philadelphia, but his career was not satisfactory
to his parents. Mrs. Adams, the brightest woman
of her day, had little patience with complaints of
hard study and ill-health. She wrote in one of her
letters : " He who dies with studying, dies in a
good cause, and may go to another world much bet
ter calculated to improve his talents than if he had
died a blockhead
Parental pride and parental ambition were fully
satisfied by the honors bestowed on the eldest son.
He had been a great favorite with Washington, who
had appointed him minister to the Netherlands.
Later, he was minister to Berlin, to Russia, and now
he was appointed by Madison, minister to St. James.
The crazy George III. was in his padded cell, and
his son, afterwards George IV., was Regent. Nearly
four decades had passed since the new nation had
asserted itself, but now it was growing and prosper
ous, and no one questioned its right to join in the
stately march of European nations.
At the election of Monroe, young Adams was re
called and made Secretary of State. The mother's
heart swelled with pride and pleasure, and had her
life been prolonged she would have seen him at the
head of the nation.
After the revolution, Mr. Adams left the farm
house, which had been the home of his father, and
bought a more commodious residence, which had

MRS. JOHN ADAMS. 59
belonged to one of the Royalists. He doubled its
size, and altered its appearance. It was the home of
his grandson, Charles Francis Adams, who also al
tered and improved it.
One of the rooms was finished in mahogany. Mrs.
Adams always liked everything about her bright and
cheerful, and to carry out her taste, over this pol
ished almost priceless wood she put a coat of white
paint. It has since been scraped and its polish
restored. After her husband's retirement, she spent seven
teen happy years in the town to which she went as a
bride. She died of fever, at the age of seventy-four.
Her capacity as housekeeper, steward, and farm
manager had preserved her husband's private prop
erty, upon which she early foresaw that he would be
obliged to depend for support in his last years. In
addition to her good sense and superior mental abili
ties, she had that happy faculty, so rare among
women, of having her own way, and, at the same
time, instilling into her husband's raind the idea that
he was having his, — yet she was careful of his dig
nity, and never forfeited his affection or respect.
Mr. Adams lived eight years after the death of his
wife, dying Fourth of July, 1826. He never forgot
that the people had denied him a second election.
He carried on a large political correspondence, well-
flavored with acrimony ; would say that the franking

6o MRS. JOHN ADAMS.
privilege was the only favor for which he was in
debted to the government.
For a long time he was helpless, and had to be fed
with a spoon, but hijs intellect was clear to the last.
Two hours before he died he gave a toast, to be of
fered at the Fourth of July dinner, — " Independence
forever." When the chill of death was creeping
upon him, he remembered his old friend, and said,
"Jefferson still lives."
The entrance of Jefferson into the spirit world was
in reality two hours before his own.
History has done araple justice to John Adams,
who was the Colossus of the Congress of the Revo
lution.

MRS. JEFFERSON.
When Jefferson became the chief magistrate of
these United States, there was no woraan to share
his triumph and preside at the presidential mansion.
In the prime of his early manhood, at the house of
John Wayles, one of his legal associates, he met and
loved Martha Skelton, a widowed daughter, reputed
to be one of the fairest and most accomplished of the
fair women of the Old Dominion. As she was a
woman with a tall, graceful figure, abundant auburn
hair, a face beaming with color and expression, edu
cated, with a taste for the. higher literature, a marvel
lous voice, and skilled in playing the harpsichord,
it is not strange that she had many suitors. The
wooing of our hero was long and difficult ; for a tirae
it was hard to tell to whora she would give her hand.
By chance, one evening, two of his would-be rivals
met at her door ; soraething in the tone of a love
song, played by Mrs. Skelton and sung by Jefferson,
told them that the battle was fought, and tliey had
not won. They left without seeing the musicians,
and Jefferson found the field all his own, and the
successful wooing went on without a rival.
On New Year's day, 1772, the happy ending was

62 MRS. JEFFERSON.
celebrated, and after a few festive days at the " For
est," the home of the bride, the wedding journey was
begun to Monticello, the home of Jefferson, more
than a hundred miles away. A snowstorm that would
have done credit to New England swept over Vir
ginia, and, on the last day of the journey, they were
compelled to leave the carriage and mount the
horses. At the setting of the sun, the snow was
two feet deep, and Monticello not only eight miles
away, but on a mountain five hundred and eighty
feet high. The hearts of the pair were light, their
spirits gay, and the distance was made amid mirth
and fun. The bride and bridegroom had come un
expectedly ; the house servants, thinking the storm
too severe for travelling, had gone to their cabins,
and were wrapped in sleep. No fire. No supper.
In Southern horaes, no stores are kept in the
houses, and, in this establishraent, nothing eatable
or drinkable could be found, save a bottle of wine.
It was dreary, but the house rang with laughter and
song, and the home coming was ever looked back
upon as a. joyous time.
A lull in the political strife gave them a year of
perfect happiness. In the autumn, the little daugh
ter, Martha, who figured so largely in Jefferson's life,
was born. In youth, Jefferson had had a bosom
friend. The two, lying on the grass beneath an
immense oak on the Little Mount, had made to each

MRS. JEFFERSON. 63
other the romantic promise that the one who died
first should be buried under this tree, by the other.
This friend, Dabney Carr, married Jefferson's sister.
Away from home, he was attacked by malignant
typhoid fever, and died before his friends knew that
he was ill. He left six young children. The shock
was too much for the wife, lying helpless with an
infant but a few days old, and for a time she lost
her reason. Jefferson took them all to his home.
The six were educated and treated with the same
love and tenderness as his own children, and their
love for him partook of idolatry.
He laid the body of the father beneath the oak
tree, and wrote his epitaph, ending : " To his vir
tue, good sense, learning, and friendship, this stone
is dedicated by Thomas Jefferson, who, of all men
living, loved him most." His fondness for chil
dren was excessive, and what would have been a
burden to most men was absolute joy to him. The
death of his wife's father fortunately doubled his
estate. Though Jefferson was a successful lawyer, Coke
had been, as he put it, " a dull old scoundrel " and
only mastered by his unbending will. What he did
love were music, mathematics, and architecture. To
fiddle, he would steal hours from sleep. Master of
Latin, Greek, and of several modern languages, —
intent even on Gaelic, versed in science and litera-

64 MRS. JEFFERSON.
ture, not neglecting Coke, he managed to give three
hours a day to this arausement. His negro servant,
in the simplicity of his heart, thought that the fire
which had burned not only Jefferson's own, but his
father's books, and all his papers, could not be a
crushing blow, when he could say at the end of the
disastrous news, " But, Massa, we saved the fiddle."
Before he was' of age, he had planned a home on
the Little Mount. For years he brooded over it,
was his own architect. A distinguished marquis of
France, travelling in America, wrote : " Mr. Jeffer
son is the first American who has consulted the fine
arts, to know how he should shelter himself from the
weather." In this Italian villa, surrounded by orna
mental grounds, one hundred and fifty miles from
the sea, with nothing to break the view, Martha Jef
ferson spent all her married life, almost unclouded,
until Boston raised her cry of distress.. Jefferson's
spirit kindled at the tyranny of the mother country ;
he was called to Philadeli^hia, to meet the master
minds of the day. It was he who was chosen to
prepare an humble and dutiful address to the king.
Humble and dutiful !
He, a colonial subject, spoke to the King of
England as raan to man. Every sentence had a
barbed point. At the end, he bade him, " Not let
the name of George III. be a blot on the pa"-e of
history," bade him, "Aira to do his duty." It was

MRS. JEFFERSON. 65
not sent to the King, but it was printed and sent
to England, which placed his narae on a list of pro
scriptions, enrolled in a bill of attainder.
Americans had been intensely loyal to the raother
country, and with singular pertinacity clung to her,
but the burning of Falraouth and Norfolk turned
the current of their loyalty and made them almost
unanimous for independence. As Jefferson had
proved that he could wield a masterly pen, he was
called upon to draught a Declaration. Always fore
most in some overt act, which England called
treason, Mrs. Jefferson was kept in constant anx
iety for his personal safety.
Twice, Jefferson was named with Dr. Franklin
as envoy to Paris. He had an intense desire to
go, but his wife was too delicate to bear him cora
pany, and nothing would induce him to leave the
country without her.
At the surrender of Burgoyne, there was a
scarcity of provisions at the North, and the pris
oners, four thousand in number, were marched to
Virginia, the wheatfield of America. Their bar
racks were within sight of Monticello. Mrs. Jef
ferson was very active in assisting the officers'
wives to settle, and Jefferson threw open his house,
library, and grounds. The winter was very gay,
concerts were frequent, and now and then a play
was given. Even General Phillips, commander of

66 MRS. JEFFERSON.
the EngHsh troops, whom Jefferson described as
the " proudest man of the proudest nation on earth,"
was not proof against the Monticello civilities.
In 1779, Jefferson was chosen governor of Vir
ginia. The State stood shoulder to shoulder with
Massachusetts, but since the burning of Norfolk
the horrors of war had not invaded her soil. Jef
ferson had sent every available man and horse, to
Gates, but after his defeat at Camden there was
nothing to prevent the British troops from sweeping
down upon Virginia, determined to lay waste the
country they could not conquer. Arnold sailed up
the James and ravaged as far as Richmond.' There
was a burning desire throughout the country for
his capture. At the first call, twenty-five hundred
militia were on the traitor's path. Jefferson prom
ised them five thousand guineas, if he were taken
alive, but he was wary and the elements favored him.
This period is the only one when the name of
Mrs. Jefferson appears among the patriotic women
of the day. Her life was apart from politics, en
grossed in the duties of a large household, but
when Mrs. Washington called upon her, as the
Governor's wife, to enlist the womiCn of Virginia,
in assisting to supply the needs of the army, she
promptly responded, and her letter to forward the
¦scheme is preserved in the New York Historical
Society.

MRS. JEFFERSON. 67
Cornwallis and Tarleton swept over the border.
The famous Tarleton, with two hundred cavalry,
hoped to capture the Governor and Legislature. At
midnight, as he halted to refresh his men and the
horses, a man mounted a fleet steed, rode away, and
warned them in time to escape.
Jefferson put his wife and children (the youngest
two months old) in a carriage, selected his most
valuable papers, mounted his horse and rode away,
after he had seen the advance of the troopers, who
entered the house five minutes after he left it.
Two faithful servants, Martin and Caesar, were
bent on concealing the family silver beneath the
portico, — one stowed away while the other handed
down. At the sound of horsemen, the one above
closed the plank, and left the other cramped in a
small hole and almost suffocated with heat — the
troops stayed eighteen hours and the devoted fellow
made no sound. However, it was needless suffer
ing, for Tarleton had forbidden any injury to the
house or its contents. It was only the Governor
who was wanted, and a pistol was held at the breast
of Martin, with the threat of putting a ball through
him, if he did not tell the direction in which his
master had gone. " Fire away, then," was the un
daunted reply.
Jefferson had another estate a hundred miles
away, upon which Cornwallis bestowed his atten-

68 MRS. JEFFERSON.
tions, destroyed the growing crops, cut the throats
of the colts, burned the fences, and carried away the
negroes to his camp, reeking with small-pox and
putrid fever.
The frequent raids of the enemy, and the severe
losses of the defenceless people made them bitter,
and they cast the blame upon their Governor, who
bad suffered as severely as any. Censure, whi-ch so
often falls to the lot of public men in times of ad
versity, cut hira to the quick. He indigna,ntly
retired from public life, with the determination
never again to accept office. Nursing his wrath, he
even declined the coveted mission to Paris, when
his wife was in a condition to make the voyage with
him, and retired to the domestic affairs of Monti-
ceHo. Now the war was to be fought upon Virginian soil
and in Virginian waters; for nine months the contest
went on. What was begun in the Old Bay State
was ended in the Old Dominion.
Constant anxiety and maternal cares told heavily
upon the delicate wife of Jefferson. Three babies
died, and when the sixth carae, serious fears were
felt for the mother. Gleams of hope were followed
by despair, which settled into certainty. He, with
his sister and her sister were the only watchers.
For four months, Jefferson was never beyond her
call, and most of the time sat at her bedside. He

MRS. JEFFERSON. 69
preferred to give her food and medicines with his
own hands. A wife's pride and ambition for her
husband had been satisfied, and his tenderness and
devotion, so lavishly bestowed, had turned her love
into idolatry. She exacted a promise from him that
he would never marry again, which he, holding her
hand, solemnly gave. A child of the Church, with
no fear of death, she clung to him as if there could
be no heaven without him. At the end he fainted,
and was so long unconscious it was feared he had
joined his wife. For three weeks he kept his room,
attended day and night by his little daughter, who
was the solace of all his after life. Day and night
he walked the floor, and at times the violence of his
grief amazed and frightened the child, but she ever
kept to her post. WHien he left his room, it was to
mount his horse and ride for hours, always taking
the child, who bore the name of her mother.
Again the mission to France to assist Franklin
and Jay in negotiations for peace, was offered him.
Monticello had lost its charm, and it was a boon to
go. A house was engaged in Paris, and he was at
Baltimore ready to sail, when the news came that the
treaty was signed.
Peace softened the asperities of war, and when
Virginia plected him senator to Congress, sitting at
Annapolis, he accepted the position. Martha was
placed at school in Philadelphia. His letters to her

70 MRS. JEFFERSON.
are touching, blending the advice of a father and a
raother. She must strive to be good at all times
and to all living creatures ; she must acquire accom
plishments. His daughter must be very neat in her
dress and appearance, her hair must be kept neatly
brushed ; gentlemen despise slovenliness, and a
young girl should be careful to avoid it ; " it pro
duces great praise to spell well ; " if she be so
unhappy as to incur the displeasure of her teacher
she must think no apology or concession too great to
regain her good-will.
After peace was signed, commercial treaties were
to be made, and for the fourth time Jefferson was
chosen an envoy to Paris. This time he sailed from
Boston, with the little Martha at his side. Had they
been a day earlier, they could have sailed with Mrs.
Adams and her daughter ; but in those days, a large
supply of stores must be taken, and more prepara
tions made than could be accomplished in so short a
time. Jefferson succeeded Dr. Franklin, but as he said
to the French minister in presenting his credentials,
"No one can replace him." He had the pleasure of
witnessing the departure of the grand old man ;
royalty paid him honor ; the people treated him
with homage accorded only to royalty : ladies of
the highest distinction threw their arms around his
neck and kissed him. Jefferson looked smilingly on,

MRS. JEFFERSON. 7 I
saying, " if he were to do his work, he wished to
enjoy all his privileges." "Ah, you are too young,
too young," said the doctor.
Miss Martha wrote home an amusing account of
their arrival. " I wish you could have been with us
when we arrived, I am sure you would have laughed,
for we were obliged to send imraediately for the
stay-raaker, the mantua-maker, the milliner, and
even the shoemaker, before I could go out. I
have never had the friseur but once, but I soon
got rid of him and turned down my hair, in spite
of all they could say. ... I have seen two nuns
take the veil. ... I was placed in a convent at my
arrival, and I leave you to judge of my situation, — I
did not speak a word of French, and no one here
knew English but a little girl two years old . . .
There are about fifty or sixty pensioners in the
house, so that, speaking as much as I could with
them, I learned the language very soon. . . . We
wear the uniform, which is crimson, made like a
frock, laced behind, with the train, like a robe de
cour, hooked on, muslin cuffs, and tuckers."
At first, the child was very homesick, but she
learned to like convent life even better than her
father desired that she should.
The first news from home was that Lucy, the
baby who came as the mother faded, had died of
whooping-cough.

72 MRS. JEFFERSOF.
The loss of this child made the father wish to
have his other daughter, his Polly, as he caUed her,
with hira. He wrote his sister, Mrs. Eppes, who
had the care of her, to send her in cliarge of a ser
vant. The sensitive child was so heartbroken, that
a letter of remonstrance was written to her father.
When persuasions, the proraises of big dolls, play
things unheard of in America and the companionship
of her sister availed nothing, a decided order was
given to send her. So violent was her opposition
that she was taken, with her cousins, on board a
vessel, as if it were for a visit ; when from "sheer
weariness she fell asleep, the cousins left her and the
vessel sailed. The child was old enough to know
that she was ill-treated ; it seemed worse than leav
ing her playmate, Jacky Eppes.
Mrs. Adams received her in London, and from her
charming letters, we glean an account of Jefferson's
younger daughter.
" I have had with me for a fortnight a little daush-
ter of Mr. Jefferson's, who arrived here with a young
negro girl, her servant, from Virginia. A finer
child for her age, I never saw. So mature an
understanding ; so womanly a behavior, and so
rauch sensibility united, are rarely to be met with.
I grew so fond of her, and she so much attached to
me, that when Mr, Jefferson sent for her, they had
to force the little creature away. She is but eight

MRS. JEFFERSON. 73
years old. She would sit sometimes and describe to
me, her aunt who brought her up, the obligation she
was under to her, and the love she had for her little
cousins, until tears would stream down her cheeks,
and how I had been her friend, and she loved me.
Her papa would break her heart by making her go
again. She clung round me so that I could not help
shedding a tear at parting with her. She was the
favorite of every one in the house. I regret that
such fine spirits must be spent in the walls of a
convent. She is a beautiful girl, too."
She had another season of homesickness in Paris.
— She cared little for music or study, but she had
her father's power of winning hearts. The nuns •
could not chide, but their hearts went out in ca
resses and love for this beautiful child.
The sweet purity of the nuns, and their intellectual
pursuits, which were the charm of her life, made the
convent of Panthemont a charmed place to Miss
Martha, the girl of sixteen.
She wrote her father that her choice was to join
the nuns and live a religious life. The father did
not hasten to answer, but when he did it was in
person. He privately interviewed the abbess, with
beaming srailes met his daughters, and told thera he*
had come to take them home. The convent life had
ended, and never was the girl's request alluded to by
her father.

74 MRS. JEFFERSON.
Masters were employed for the young ladies, and
Miss Martha was allowed to mix in Parisian society ;
that espousing the church had no deep hold upon
her is proved by a rule, laid down by her father,
that she should go to only three balls in a week.
A kinsman of Jefferson's, Thomas Randolph, edu
cated at Edinburgh, had visited him at Paris, and
asked permission to woo Miss Martha, the playmate
of his boyhood. The father was gracious, but on
account of the girl's age had asked him to defer his
proposals. The young man sailed for Virginia, and in the
autumn of the next year, Jefferson took his daugh
ters home.
They had a very long passage ; entered Chesa
peake Bay in a fog and barely escaped shipwreck,
and then were run into by another vessel. After
landing, they nearly lost their effects by the burning
of the ship.
At Richmond, they received an ovation. Just
before Christraas, they reached Monticello. The
servants had been notified and given a holiday.
They enthusiastically resolved to meet " the family "
at the foot of the mountain. In their impatience
they started too early, and walked on. Four miles
from home, they espied the carriage, and, amid
shouts and cheers, detached the horses and drew
them home — up the mountain — at a run. Between

MRS. JEFFERSON. 75
two files, "the family" entered the house, the
negroes shouting, " God bless you's — Look at the
chilluns — Ain't our Miss Patsy tall .'' Our dear
little Polly, bless her soul ! " Long years after, Mrs.
Randolph wrote, " such a scene, I never witnessed in
my life."
After settling his daughters, Jefferson intended to
return to Paris, but Washington had appointed him
Secretary of State, and, as he backed the appoint
ment by a personal request, Jefferson sacrificed his
inclinations and accepted.
In Paris, Miss Jefferson must have had some in
sight into Thomas Randolph's affections and aspira
tions, or else she required little wooing, for in Feb
ruary, after her return, we read of a braw wedding
at Monticello, wherein she played the part of bride,
and Thomas Randolph, of bridegroom. In the light
of this event we can see why she was so easily dis
suaded from becoming a nun. Jefferson expressed
his satisfaction by saying : " She has a man of
science, sense, virtue, and competence."
The pair lived at Monticello and took charge of
little Polly. Jefferson's letters are as frequent as
ever, teeming with advice and instruction, spiced
with anecdotes, never omitting the latest New York
fashions. He astonished New Yorkers himself, by
dressing in red breeches and red waistcoat — Paris
fashion.

76 MRS. JEFFERSON.
When Miss Marie entered her teens, her fathef
took her to Philadelphia for the season. On the
way they visited Mount Vernon.
Nelly Custis and Polly formed an intimate friend
ship, and were so "particularly happy "that Polly's
father left her to go on later with Mrs. Washington
and her granddaughter.
She was in a circle of loving friends and passed a
very happy winter. Mrs. Adams fondly welcomed
the beautiful girl, who as a child had so clung to her
in London ; and Jack Eppes, who loved her as a
child, loved her then, and always loved her, was
there studying law. When Congress was not in
session, she divided her time between MonticeHo
and her aunt, Mrs. Eppes.
Jefferson's next public office was that of vice--
president. In the first year of his term, his
daughter wrote for his approval of her engagement
to her cousin Jack. " If he had the whole earth to
choose from, he would have chosen Jack for her
husband," was the return answer. I;i the autumn,
the marriage took place, and she became mistress of
her father's house, Mrs. Randolph having reraoved
to her husband's estate, which was in sight of Monti
cello. In 1801, Jefferson became President. John
Adaras, by his courageous independence had main
tained peace, and the country was prosperous and

MRS. JEFFERSON. "J-J
happy ; yet so popular was the election of his succes
sor, that the day of his inauguration was celebrated
throughout the United States, as if the nation had
faced the rocks of Scylla and es;caped them.
Regardless of the parade made by the people,
Jefferson conducted his part of the programme with
siraplicity. He intended to ride to the Capitol, in a
carriage-and-four, but as this portion of his equip
ment had been left to the care of "Jack Eppes,"
his son-in-law, who failed to produce them in time
"he rode on horseback to the Capitol, without a single
guard or even servant in his train, dismounted with
out assistance, and hitched the bridle of his horse to
the palisades."
Whatever injury Napoleon worked in Europe, his
day of power was a boon to the United States. The
English had won Canada from France and their
covetous eyes were cast upon Louisiana, — to con
trol the Mississippi was almost to control the con
tinent. The dearest wish of Jefferson's heart — the sub
ject upon which he had brooded for years, was to add
it to his country's domain ; he had counselled Wash
ington to fight, rather than let it pass intb the hands
of Great Britain. Fortune favored him. Napoleon
knew its priceless value — no man better, but to
have invaded and humbled England he would almost
have sold France. Money he must have, to strike

78 MRS. JEFFERSON.
the mighty blow he meditated. Jefferson sent
Monroe to proffer it, without haggling over the
amount. This largest and cheapest piece of real
estate ever sold, almost doubled the territory and
importance of the United States.
For years, the Algerine pirates had been thorns,
with very sharp points to all Christian nations. It
seems incredible to-day, that, at the beginning of the
century, each paid an annual tribute to the haughty
Dey of Algiers, to protect its commerce ; and con
tributions were taken in churches to ransom the
captured, a regular scale of prices, according to
rank, being fixed by my lord of Tripoli, but his
tory tells the story.
To the wise foresight of John Adams, the United
States was indebted for a small navy. Jefferson
reduced it, but he was very careful that what he
did keep afloat, should do good service. The port of
Tripoli was blockaded, the city bombarded, and in its
harbor, the daring Decatur immortalized his name.
A new era and a new race seemed to have dawned
upon the bashaw. As these American Christian
dogs had a spirit, which it was not weil to defy, he
made peace.
European nations looked on and beheld what
prowess and a very small force could do, and by
combining managed to extract the thorns from their
flesh and shake the incubus from their shoulders.

MRS. JEFFERSON. 79
One year of Jefferson's administration was ren
dered memorable by the sail of Robert Fulton's
stearaboat on the Hudson. For five years, that
river could boast of having the only one in the
world. England, always fertile in picking a quarrel, never
caring for the right, arrogantly claimed that she
would take seamen of English birth wherever she
could find thera, and if our vessels passed her on
the high seas, she would stop them and make search.
Dastardly deeds were done in our own waters. She
disavowed ordering them and politely expressed
"regrets," but as for making honest reparation,
she had no idea of it, not she.
As the United States was a neutral power, she
had an honest right to fetch and carry. Napoleon
said we should have no commerce with England, and
England, vice versa. As we were a. prey to both
parties, an Embargo Act was passed forbidding
American vessels to leave port. It was intended
that our enemies should suffer for our supplies, but
unfortunately it worked two ways, and we suffered
for their money.
Jefferson entailed this feverish state of affairs
upon his successor, yet his popularity never waned,
and he could have had a third term, if he would have
accepted it.
No one suffered more from the Embargo Act than

80 MRS. JEFFERSON.
Jefferson himself ; his cotton and tobacco were
stored in his warehouses, and he had not where
withal to pay his debts on leaving Washington, until
his agent had contracted a large loan.
Absorbed in public affairs, he had not looked into
his own. He wrote that he was in an agony of
hurailiation, and should pass sleepless nights until
the matter was arranged.
In his first term the daughters spent one season
with him. At the close of it, Mrs. Eppes, whose
beauty exceeded that of her mother, with a consti
tution that was even more frail, died after the birth
of her second child.
Grief at her loss told so heavily upon the Presi
dent, that Mrs. Randolph spent the succeeding win
ter with him, and her second son ' was born that
season ; at other times the White House was with
out a mistress.
The stately etiquette and the formality practised
among crowned heads had been maintained through
Washington's and Adams' administration, but Jeffer
son put it all aside. He was not only Republican in
politics, but in manners and dress. The weekly
levees were abolished, and only on New Year's Day
and Fourth of July did he keep open house. He
kept up old Virginian hospitality ; a long table was
daily spread and was always full, but the company
were men. His steward told a guest that it often

MRS. JEFFERSON. 8 I
took fifty dollars to pay for what marketing they
would use in a day. It is said that during Jeffer
son's eight years' adrainistration, he and his guests
drank twenty thousand dollars worth of wines and
brandy. If a dinner were to be given and ladies were
included, he would ask Mrs. Madison to receive
and preside. On one occasion, when the dinner
was announced, he offered her his arra and led the
way, without any regard to precedence, much to the
indignation of the British minister, whose wife was
present. He even made it a matter of coraplaint,
and laid it before the English minister for Foreign
Affairs. Had the royal Charlotte been present, she
would have had no courtesy on the score of rank.
Jefferson courteously remained in Washington to
see his successor installed in office. A family letter
tells us that, " At Madison's first inauguration,
Thomas Jefferson Randolph, his grandson and name
sake, was a lad of seventeen years, and was his
grandfather's sole corapanion as he rode, in those
days of republican siraplicity, up Pennsylvania Ave
nue on horseback, from the President's house to the
Capitol, where grandfather and grandson, dismount
ing, hitched their horses to the paling, and the lat
ter went into the Congressional halls to see the
government pass from his hands into those of his
friend."

82 MRS. JEFFERSON.
The next day Jefferson went to his beloved Monti
cello, and for seventeen years lived the life of a
southern planter.
Mrs. Randolph presided over his house. She was
the mother of twelve children, six of whom were
daughters, who never had any teacher but herself;
these, with Francis, son of Mrs. Eppes, made a
merry household.*-
One serious annoyance was the number of guests
that thronged the house and literally ate up the mas
ter's substance. Once, Mrs. Randolph wks obliged
to prepare beds for fifty inmates. One family of six
persons came from Europe and remained ten months.
Jefferson twice had the pleasure of receiving
Lafayette, and it was he who proposed that Con
gress should indemnify the noble Frenchman for the
money he advanced in the Revolutionary War.
At a time of financial panic, Jefferson generously
indorsed a note for a large amount, hoping to save a
relative from ruin — the ruin came, not only to his
relative but to himself.
This loss, with the debt for the Washington ex
penses, his immense family, added to the locusts
which devoured him, brought him to great financial
straits. The war of 1812 destroyed commerce, and
his cotton and tobacco were housed as in the days of
the Embargo Act. Debt was abhorrent to his
nature. To meet the more urgent claims, he made

MRS. JEFFERSON. 83
the sacrifice of selling what was the most precious —
his library. The collection of it was begun directly
after the fire that spared the fiddle. For sixty
years, in Europe and America, he had searched for
the rarest treasures ; priceless as it was to him per
sonally, he offered it to Congress to replace the
library burned by the British. A committee was
appointed to appraise its value. Twenty-three thou
sand dollars, half its cost, was the result.
Congress was as scrupulously exact in payment, as
Portia with Shylock.
This was but a temporary relief, and there were
no purchasers for land, his only resource. Compelled
to pay the note of twenty thousand dollars which he
had indorsed, in the last year of his life, he asked of
the state legislature permission to sell some of his
farms by lottery, as was often done, if the money
were to be given for a public object.
He pathetically wrote : " If it be permitted in my
case, my lands here alone, with the mills, etc., will
pay everything, and will leave Monticello and a farm
free. If refused, I must sell everything here, per
haps considerably at Bedford, move thither vvith my
family, where I have not even a log-hut to put my
head into."
There was so much reluctance and red-tape busi
ness, that the scheme was given up, even after the
Legislature consented ; in sorrow, but with no bitter-

84 MRS. JEFFERSON.
ness, he exclairaed, " I count on nothing now. I am
taught to know ray standard."
Individuals in New York, Philadelphia, and Balti
more, who honored the sage of Monticello, and sym
pathized in his distress, raised a subscription for his
benefit, which he proudly called, " The pure and un
solicited offering of love," and happily thought it
would save Monticello for his daughter and grand
children. He had no disease, nor decay of mental powers, —
the state he most dreaded. In 1822, he wrote Mr.
Adams, —
" I have ever dreaded a doting old age ; and my
health has been so generally good, and is now so
good, that I dread it still. The rapid decline of my
strength during the last winter, has made me hope
sometiraes that I see land. During summer I enjoy
its temperature ; but I shudder at the approach of
winter, and wish I could sleep through it with the
dormouse, and only wake with him in spring, if
ever." It was a case of crossing a bridge, that was never
reached. In June his family were aroused to a sense of his
weakness by a remark of his own, — handing a paper
to his grandson, which would require his own signa
ture, he said : '' Don't delay ; there is no time to be
lost.''

MRS. JEFFERSON. 85
Every day he grew weaker, and dozed raore ; mut
tered in his sleep, and always of the events of the
Revolution — once, with startling eraphasis, "Warn
the committee to be on the alert."
He compared himself to an " old watch, with a
pinion worn out here, and a wheel there, until it can
go no longer,"
As Fourth of July drew near, he expressed a wish
that he might live to see the day, — so anxious was
he, that on the third, he would ask upon rousing from
naps, " Is this the Fourth ? "
He died on the nation's birthday, 1826, in the bliss-
full assurance that " two seraphs " in heaven awaited
his coming.
He was buried beneath the spreading oak, where
he had laid Dabney Carr, his wife, and " his
Polly." Jefferson appointed Thomas Jefferson Randolph,
his grandson, his executor. He found the estate in
solvent. Monticello was sold, and still there was a
deficit of forty thousand dollars. He assumed this
debt and paid it, assisted by his daughters, who
opened a school.
To leave Monticello was heartbreaking to Mrs.
Randolph ; she wrote, " There is a time in huraan
suffering when succeeding sorrows are but like snow
falling on an iceberg."
She proposed opening a young ladies' school, for

86 MRS. JEFFERSON.
the maintenance of herself and unmarried daughters ;
but when the legislatures of North Carolina and
Louisiana, each generously voted her ten thousand
dollars, she abandoned the idea, and removed to
Washington, where she died in 1837.

MRS. MADISON.
When Jefferson was at the head of the nation, he
conducted the public domestic affairs mostly without
women. It was a sore grievance to the society class,
for few men had more power to win popularity than
he. They thought by woman's wit and woman's will
to baffle and master him. At the place where and
at the time when, a drawing-room had been wont to
be held, they came in full force. The master was
out riding. A servant met him on the threshold and
told him the drawing-room was crowded with guests.
Whip in hand, booted and spurred, splashed with
mud, he entered. There was a smile and a pleasant
word for each ; there was nothing lacking in his
genial high-bred courtesy ; none could tell where the
rebuke came in, but the thing was never repeated.
After eight years, he gracefully gave way to the
silent, solemn Madison, in whose life boyhood and
youth seemed to have dropped out, and who passed
more than forty years without quickening a heart
beat in a woman's bpsom ; yet he led into the White
House a wife who was the most winsome woman of
any who has ever graced the station. She has been
87

88 MRS. MADISON.
dubbed " Queen Dolly, the most gracious and be
loved of all our feraale sovereigns." She won favors
from Congress never before or since granted to
woman. Under all Madison's solemnity and unapproachable
bearing, he was ever quick to discern and appreciate
a beautiful woman. When he had passed into the
thirties, he saw and admired Catharine Floyd, a girl
less than half his years, said to be of great beauty
and vivacity (his style). His way of wooing was
to sit in the roora with her and talk of the public
debt, imposts, etc., with her father. When he would
put a seal to the wooing, the girl, under hoiile pres
sure, said " Yes," when she would rather have said,
"No." Now, Madison had a betrothed, and congratula
tions poured in. Unfortunately for him, while he
kept up the political flow with the father, there was
often another guest, a young clergyman, who looked
into the girl's eyes, and talked neither politics nor
shop. Whatever the subject was, it induced her to
break her troth. It went hard with the staid, som
bre man, and that he made a moan is shown by Jef
ferson's philosophical letter, of condolence, hinting of
the fishes whose flavor is always recommended to
one in his strait. But more than a decade went by
before he angled again, and then it was for the sweet
Quaker widow Todd.

MRS. MADISON. 89
Born in bright, free America, with the blood of a
Scotch grandame, an English father, and an Irish
mother in her veins, she seemed to have caught a
grace frora each. When she was a mere child, her
family removed to Philadelphia, and embraced the
Quaker faith. No restraints could check the joyous
flow of spirits in Dolly, nor the love of carnal
pleasures. The Scotch grandraother had little patience with
the new faith, and when Dolly, at times, put into
words her longing to be, and to dress like the
"world's people," would give her bits of jewelry
worn in her own girlhood. As the child could not
wear or even show them, she raade a bag and kept
thera in her bosora, often throbbing with wicked de
light that such things were hers. Alas ! if it were
sin, " it found her out," and brought her her first
great grief. A day came when the bag opened, and
they were left in the woods, where DoHy had been
flitting about.
If the mother thought it wicked to wear a ribbon
or a bit of lace as a foil to beauty, she took good care
to preserve all nature had given. The equipment for
school was a white linen mask, sewed to the sun-
bonnet, and gloves drawn to the elbow.
Early in life her father had had no money cares",
but war had swept away the savings of a lifetime, and
the stern man sank bodily and mentally.

90 MRS. MADISON.
There was a young Quaker lawyer of good estate,
who found Dolly very fair, and wished to possess her.
His plan of wooing was to heap favors on the father;
with his sanction he spoke to the girl.
" I never mean to marry," was the demure reply.
Her father was more persuasive, and soon John
Todd bore away a bride. For three years she lived
the secluded life of a proper Quaker matron, and be
came the mother of two babies ; then the yellow
fever was epidemic in Philadelphia.
John Todd sent away Dolly and her babies, but
lingered himself to do what a man and a Christian
might. When he knew the fever to be burning in
his veins, he followed his wife, with the cry, i' I must
see her once more."
In a few hours he was dead, and soon Dolly and a
baby lay battling with the fever. When the disease
was stayed, Dolly, with one baby, went home to her
mother, now widowed.
The married years had turned the shy girl-bride
into a beautiful woman. Men would station them
selves where they might see her pass. Her bride-
maid said : " Really, Dolly, thou must hide thy face,
there are so many staring at thee."
It was in a walk that her bright beauty first flashed
Upon Madison. Its effect is shown by a note, written
the next day, by Dolly : —
"Dear Friend: Come to me. Aaron Burr says

MRS. MADISON. 9 1
the great-little Madison has asked to be brought to
see me this evening."
Dolly was in mulberry satin, silk tulle, with curls
creeping from beneath the dainty Quaker cup, brim
ming with fun and sparkling with wit. Soon a
strange rumor spread through the city.
The President and Mrs. Washington shared in the
amused surprise, and, to be assured, sent for Dolly.
" Is it true .' " asked Mrs. Washington.
In the same manner with which she had once an
swered John Todd, she said, " No, I think not."
Confusion and blushes told the tale she would hide,
and Mrs. Washington bade her "not be ashamed,"
it was "an honor to win a man so great and so
good ; he will make thee a good husband, and all
the better for being so much older. We both ap
prove of it ; the esteem and friendship existing be
tween Mr. Madison and my husband is very great
and we would wish thee to be happy."
Soon, with her child, sister, and maid, she was
driven from the city in an open barouche, and the
" Father of the Constitution," mounted, rode at her
side. At the home of her sister, who married a
nephew of Washington, she became Mrs. Madison.
Guests came from far and near, and the merry
making went on for days. That love had trans
formed the man is proved by the young girl guests
daring to cut bits of Mechlin lace from his shirt
ruffles, as mementoes.

92

MRS. MADISON.

Amid showers of rice and tossings of slippers, the
barouche was driven away, with the bridal pair,
bound for Montpellier, Madison's ancestral estate,
where his parents still lived.
Madison had won the whole heart of this brilliant
woraan, and he proved the most devoted of husbands,
an indulgent father to her child, a tender son to her
mother, and to her little sister he gave a horae, until
he gave her away, a bride..
Country life, with abundant raeans, was for Mrs.
Madison, one round of pleasures. The poor blessed
her name, servants vied with one another to do
her bidding ; little negroes would trot after her, in
her walks and caU her " Sweety," and the raother of
Madison thought there was never a woman the equal
of "James's wife."
When Jefferson became president, he made Madi
son, Secretary of State, and even then it may be
said that his wife's reign began. As there was no
lady in the Executive Mansion, this brilliant, sunny-
hearted, witty little quakeress from Philadelphia,
was the social centre of the city. If a " first lady "
were needed in the White House, Jefferson sent his
compliments, with a note requesting the society of
Mrs. Madison.
Party spirit never ran- so high, but in the drawing-
room of Mrs. Madison, under her gracious tact, men,
who would meet at ho other place forgot their bitter-

MRS. MADISON. 93
ness. She made foes friends. Her civilities were
never influenced by party politics, and at her social
board, where she dispensed her lavish hospitality
with quiet dignity and elegance of manner, the
subject was never mentioned.
The step to the White House was only what
might be called her coronation. When she was
congratulated on her husband's occupation of it,
with her ready wit, she answered, " I don't know
that there is much cause for congratulation. The
President of the United States generally comes in at
the iron gate and goes out at the weeping willows."
At that time, there was a side entrance, a stone
archway, with a weeping-willow on each side of it.
Whatever the end was to be, the beginning was
very brilliant. Mrs. Madison in buff velvet and
bird-of-paradise plume, looked and moved a queen.
Madison was very pale, and more solemn than usual.
Jefferson was all life and exhilaration. The Em
bargo and troubles with France and England might
lead him under the willows, but then, he had taught
the Bashaw of Tripoli manners, which all Europe
had failed to do ; the purchase of Louisiana was his
crown of glory, and Martha, grandchildren, and
Monticello were before him.
Now, there was a Republican Court in earnest.
Drawing-rooms were held, which were never dull nor
tiresome. Washington Irving would have it, that

94 MRS. MADISON.
he met there the " merry wives of Windsor." Din^
ners were given, which the English minister, in
derision, called harvest-home feasts. Mrs. Madison
would smile, thank God for abundance, and the
unlikeness of her court to that of the shamefully
dissolute one of the Regent of England. She
returned, like Mrs. Adams, all visits paid her, and
organized " dove parties," composed of the wives of
cabinet officers and foreign ministers, which were
very gay and popular. She had high-bred airs and
refinement, was beautiful in form and features/
always richly and elegantly dressed, as became her
position. At her marriage, by her husband's re
quest, she laid aside the Quaker dress, retaining only
the dainty cap, which was very becoming, but even
that was put aside in the Executive Mansion. The
Quakers charged her with " an undue fondness for
the things of this world," but by her sweetness and
affability she retained their favor. She was remark
able for rarely forgetting a name, would even
remember little incidents connected with her guests.
The first term, which had passed for Mrs. Madison
in unclouded happiness, was drawing to a close. It
was said that Jefferson chose his own successor, but
he had passed the government to him with Pan
dora's box wide open, and had also reduced the
means of stamping out the evils, which had escaped
and were working bitter results.

MRS. MADISON. 95
George III. was harmless in his padded cell, but
his son, who resembled him in everything but his
virtues, retained the old ministry, and a heavy hand
was laid upon the new and struggling nation.
British emissaries had stirred up an Indian war in
the West and paid bounties for scalps ; on the sea,
they had captured the vessels of the East, and had
impressed Americart seamen. The people hated
England and clamored for war. Madison was a
statesman, and knew that the best interests of the
country demanded peace. Did he pursue it, he must
lay down his sceptre.
The opposition jeered, and one member declared
in Congress, that " the President could not be kicked
into a fight," which passed into a proverb. He was
human and the stakes were high. War was de
clared, and a second term began, not smooth or
uneventful. Through want of military skill or foresight, an
order was given to send to Michigan a general
never in action, unnerved at the thought of blood
shed, with a handful of raw troops' and raw militia,
to invade Canada. He showed the white feather to
his men as they stood before their guns with lighted
matches — to th^ enemy a, white tatlecloth before
a gun was fired. Instead of taking Canada, Canada
took Michigan.
Two months later there was another advance on

96 MRS. MADISON.
Canada at Queenstown Heights ; powder and can
non balls did come into use, but it ended in defeat
and disgrace.
Hull, who had surrendered Michigan, had a
nephew, the captain of the " Constitution," who
poured his broadsides with the intent of bringing
blood and doing mischief, and astonished the coun
try by a naval victory, which somewhat retrieved
the name from disgrace. The country was in on^
blaze of enthusiasm. Privateers fitted out from
every port, scoured every sea, and inflicted heavy
injuries upon the "mistress of the seas."
Canada was allowed a year to recuperate from the
invasion of her frontiers, and then, to make sure
work, a triple force was sent. Harrison by land
and Perry on the Lakes covered themselves with
glory, not- by taking Canada but by rescuing what
Hull had so basely flung into English hands.
Perry's ' despatch to headquarters was as laconic and
graphic as f Caesar's, when he conquered the King
of Pontus;'!, ¦¦:. '; . - .-
There was -afresh complication. THe'Cfeeks' had
donned th"e-wir''paint and started on the warrpath.
Jackson,'difeMed: by wounds received ia a. personal
fray, rnaria^^ 'by iron will and military -skill, aided
by his majestic- niien and blazing eyes, .to ¦ wipe out
that difficulty and end that nation. Ah! -If >^'^ had
been sent to take Canada I

MRS. MADISON. 97
In the third year of the war, there was another
attempt to invade that country.
Scott won his spurs, and had there been a suitable
force, his victory might have been followed up ; as
it was, the Americans, with an inferior force, had
simply whipped the British at Lundy's Lane.
Canadians tried invasion on the borders of Lake
Champlain — their soldiers were veterans, trained
by Wellington. Result : They fought, aided by the
British fleet — lost the fleet — ran away, leaving
wounded and military stores behind them.
The British blockaded and ravaged the Atlantic
coast from North to South. Lighthouses only
benefited the enemy, and the lighting of the lamps
was forbidden.
The crowning hurailiation carae, when the British
sailed up the Potomac and burned Washington.
Madison was called away the day before ; his wife
lingered until the sound of the cannons was heard,
even then stopped to secure the picture of Wash
ington painted by Stuart ; the Declaration of Inde
pendence was in her bag. She said, " I lived a
lifetime in those last moments." There was not
even the semblance of an army to protect the na
tional capital, though the President was warned two
months in advance, that the British were preparing
to take it.
Admiral Cockburn, at the head of his men, entered

98 MRS. MADISON.
the Capitol, raounted the speaker's chair in the
Hall of Representatives'; and shouted : " Shall this
harbor of Yarnkee Democracy be burned ? All for
it will say, Aye ! " And a thousand voices ans
wered, " Aye ! " It wa's a vote, and it was done.
Proud of the night's achievements, they would
repeat them at Baltimore, and so they sailed away.
The Baltimoreans were roused and made so vigorous
a defence that the enemy retired, with the loss of
General Ross, commander of the land forces.
During the bombardment, the sight of the flag
waving over the Fort, raaking such a plucky defence,
inspired Francis S. Key, a prisoner on board
the British fleet, to write the " Star Spangled
Banner." The pusillanimous way in which the war was con
ducted, roused the nation to fury. New England
felt equal to taking care of herself, but she was
going to give no more help in the taking of Canada.
The President might give up the capital without
putting forth his hand, but her people were not of
Virginia'stock and would not submit tamely to the
burning of her sea-ports. A convention met at
Hartford and made some propositions to be laid
before the government of the United States. There
was a very plain intimation of what measures would
be taken if her propositions were not acceded to.
The peace-loving and war-making President was

MRS. MADISON. 99
more distraught than ever. Civil war was more to
be dreaded than foreign.
Opportunely, peace was declared, and we are
spared from knowing to what lengths New England
would have gone. A Hartford Convention Feder
alist and a Southern Secessionist, both terms of
obloquy, mean about the same thing. People who
live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones.
Jackson had fought his famous battle ; fought it
after peace was signed, signed without England's
giving up the right of impressment — America's
grievance, for which she went to war.
If Madison's fame were tarnished. Queen Dolly
held a more dazzling court than ever, and was called
the most popular person in the United States.
Traditions and sweet memories of her last New
Year's levee still linger about Washington. She
was dressed in pink satin, elaborately trimmed with
ermine, gold clasps around her waist and wrists,
white satin turban with a crescent in front, topped
with towering ostrich feathers, which were said to
,gleam above the rout like the white plumes of
Navarre. She seemed to invest the city itself with
a courtly tone and something of a royal flavor clung
to the manners and presence of the heads of the
government. The troubled administration closed amid the social
pyrotechnics of Queen Dolly. Madison retired to

IOO MRS. MADISON.
Montpellier and maintained, like Washington and
Jefferson, old Virginia hospitality. His wife was a
magnet who drew about her, not only the nation's
best and distinguished guests from abroad, but
country people would beg the privilege of seeing
her, and one farmer's wife from a distance asked
to kiss her, that her girls might tell of it in the
years to come.
Madison had a suffering, lingering illness. She
tended him with most wifely devotion, and for eight
months never went beyond her own grounds. At
his death, she thought the only work left her to do
was to arrange his letters and manuscripts, which
both parties in Congress voted to purchase, because
it was she who offered them. She was given the
franking privilege, allowed a seat on the floor of
Congress, a favor accorded to no other woman.
The flirtations of that august body with Mrs. Madi
son became a topic of the press.
To be among her old friends, she returned to
Washington, where it was not only deemed an honor
to be her guest, but to be a guest where she was
present. She was the President's guest on the
steamer " Princeton " when the great cannon, called
the Peacemaker, exploded. Rumors of the accident
went abroad, and crowds assembled at her house,
anxious to be assured of her safety.
She preserved her presence of mind in the midst

MRS. MADISON. IOI
of that dreadful scene, assisted in the care of the
wounded, soothed their friends, went home, walked
before her guests, pale as death, smiling but silent.
At no time could she speak of it, or hear it spoken of.
She had never been a Quaker at heart. Hers was
a nature to appreciate, and a heart to love the
splendid ritual of the Episcopal Church, of which
in these later years she becarae a member.
A dissolute son had been the one shadow of her
life, and the shadow deepened in her widowed years.
He had spent his own patrimony, — Madison had
many times paid his debts, — and now he brought
straitened means upon his mother, which forced her
to sell Montpellier. With the glossing of a mother's
love, she would pathetically say : " Forgive my boy
his eccentricities ; his heart is ah right."
In advanced years, this brilliant woman, so popular
and beloved, a queen of society, took Soloraon's
view of life, and thus expressed it to a troubled
young girl: "My dear, there is nothing, nothing
in this world worth "caring for."
With a sore, grieved heart, she died at the age of
eighty-two, the name of her " poor boy " on her lips
at the last. Two years later, Payne Todd died of
typhoid fever, having just grace enough to be sorry
for his misdoings. In his illness, he was tended
by the faithful servants of his mother, and they
alone followed him to his grave.

I02 MRS. MADISON.
Until ruined by dissipation, he had a markedly
handsome face, and the gracious manners of his
mother. He accompanied the American Commis
sioners to Russia and Ghent, and at each court
he was treated as if he were a prince of the blood
royal. In his last years. Clay asked him if he re
membered when he was admitted to the floor at a
royal ball and danced with a Czar's daughters, while
he, as a commissioner, was only allowed in the gal
lery as a spectator.

MRS. MONROE.
Miss Eliza Kortwright was the daughter of an
American who was loyal to England, and through
the war of Independence fought under her banner.
When loyalty would no longer avail, he settled in
New York, and became a citizen under the laws of
that State.
In the year of Washington's inauguration, his
daughters were among the belles of that brilliant
season. The first mention of Miss Eliza, apart frora
her sisters, is in a note of Monroe's to Madison,
expressing a wish to introduce him to a young lady
who would soon become an adopted citizen of
Virginis,. Three months later he wrote to Jefferson,
breaking promises of visiting, and settling plans for
the future, and from what follows, we gather that his
excuse lay in the fact that he had married a wife.
In the gush of friendship and devotion which Jeffer
son so often inspired, he declared his intention of
making a home ' where he can enjoy the com
panionship of the master of Monticello.
Mrs. Monroe must have been a very quiet, do
mestic woman, for while private letters and the press
103

104 MRS. MONROE.
teem with notices of the wives of the earlier presi
dents, we find little raention of her.
Mrs. Adams, in her printed letters, says the ladies
of the Republican Court were the most beautiful
women in the world, and in this respect, Mrs.
Monroe was no exception. After four years in
Congress, Monroe was sent as envoy to Paris, and
there the sobriquet for his wife was " la belle Ameri
caine." It is in Paris that we find the only link which
connects her with her husband's public life. His
appointment came just after the fall of Robespierre.
He had not then acquired the wisdom which came
with years. His instructions were to attend exclu
sively to the interests of his own newborn and
struggling government. From the first, he threw
his whole soul into the affairs of France, trying to
become a sister republic.
Americans did not particularly love France, who
only sent them aid to thwart her hereditary foe.
What was begun as shrewd policy, Charles X., —
dethroned, an exile, sailing away in an American
ship, — declared the greatest mistake France ever
raade. But Lafayette, Rochambeau, DeKalb, and a
host of others, lived in the hearts of the nation.
They had proffered their services without pay, and
followed Louis XVI.'s generous orders to yield
precedence to American officers.

MRS. MONROE. I05
Lafayette had been foremost, and his young and
doting wife, putting self aside, had urged him on.
When it was told that he was in an Austrian
dungeon, his wife and children imprisoned in Paris,
Monroe, forgetting that, as an accredited minister,
he should express no personal feelings, threw pru
dence to the winds.
To interfere in the Marchioness's behalf, and fail,
was to seal her fate. He proposed to Mrs. Monroe
that she should go to the prison and try to obtain
an interview. Retiring and diffident as she was, her
woman's heart was stirred, and an unnatural daring,
inspired by zeal, carried her to success.
Monroe was the only foreign envoy received by
the government, and the coming of his wife in a
carriage, on which were the emblems of his rank,
aroused the awe and respect of the gaoler. Ex
pecting a refusal, Mrs. Monroe proffered her request
as one that she had a right to demand. She was
asked to the reception-room, and in a short time the
prisoner carae, accompanied by a guard. For hours,
she had been listening for the steps of the gen-
datfHes, to take her to the guillotine. When she
Was told that she had a visitor, and that visitor
proved to be the wife of the American aftibassador,
she could only sink and sob at her feet. In the
presence of a sentinel, little could be said, but as
Mrs: Monroe rose to leave, in a firm, steady

I06 MRS. MONROE.
voice, she promised to repeat her visit in the
morning. That evening was really the one fixed for the
execution, but a council was called, in which it was
held that the fate of the woman was of little moment,
but to risk the displeasure of the American minister,
and the American people, would be serious.
When the morning came, the prison doors opened,
and she was free.
Sending her boy to Washington — whose name he
bore — she, in disguise, made her way to Olmutz,
and begged to share her husband's fate. If she
crossed the threshold, there was to be no return,
and the loving woraan accepted the cruel terms.
More than three years in a dungeon ten feet deep,
where the sun never sent a ray, had lain the friend
of America, in chains. Twenty-two more weary
months dragged on, but these were cheered by the
presence of his wife.
As soon as Washington was free fr<,>m his official
position, he appealed to Napoleon, and, backed by
his power, gained their release.
The conqueror of Italy declared that the most
difficult point to settle with the Austrians was the
giving up of the prisoners at Olmutz. The Empe
ror clairaed as an excuse, that " his hands w?re tied "
— tied by whom.? His allies; which only meant
England. In vain had Fox, supported by Wilber-

MRS. MONROE. IO7
force and Sheridan, pled the prisoner's cause with
impassioned eloquence before the British Parliament.
It was the will of Parliament that the Republican,
who had helped to tear from the English crown its
brightest jewel should lie in a dungeon in chains.
He was the first leader upon whom it had had the
power to wreak vengeance, and the Emperor of Aus
tria was given to understand that its ministers enjoyed
it. If the release displeased England, the more it
pleased Napoleon to insist.
Monroe's second exploit had been to procure the
release of Thomas Paine frora prison, and keep him
ten months in his own house. Jefferson said : " If
the soul of Monroe were turned inside out, not a
spot would be found upon it," but his enthusiastic
espousal of the French Revolution, the using of his
official position for the benefit of political prisoners,
caused his recall, as a disgraced minister. In all his
after life, though crowned with the highest honors,
he felt the sting of that recall as he felt the bullet,
never extracted, received at the battle of Trenton.
Upon his return,'the home life which he had prom
ised Jefferson, when he made Eliza Kortwright his
bride, began in Virginia. He was chosen governor
of the state and held the office three years, but in no
way can we find any mention of Mrs. Monroe.
Monroe's effusive sympathy when minister, and
consequent recall, had made him popular in France,

I08 MRS. MONROE.
and when Jefferson sought to gain Louisiana, he
sent Monroe as special minister to Napoleon, with
carte blanche to negotiate for what has been called
"the largest transfer of real estate which was ever
made, since Adam was presented with the fee-simple
of Paradise."
Again Mrs. Monroe, in her quiet, gentle way,
moved in the most polished court in Europe, — her
children the companions of Josephine's. The elder
daughter was at the celebrated school of Madame
Campan with Hortense, and they formed an intimacy
which lasted through life.
From Paris, Mr. and Mrs. Monroe went to Eng
land, but her ministers were so haughtily arrogant in
their claims, all negotiations failed.
England had not yet learned to treat the minister
of her lost colonies with respect. The dissolute
court (where the wife of the Regent, who had been
pronounced by Parliament an innocent woman, was
a repudiated wife) did not accord with Mrs. Mon
roe's dignified sense of propriety.
From London they went to Madrid, from thence
to Paris, leaving the boundaries of the Spanish pos
sessions unadjusted.
They were fortunate in being present at the grand
pageantry of Napoleon's coronation, — he astonished
the world by crowning himself, after summoning
Pius VII. from Rome for the purpose.

MRS. MONROE.

109

Another ineffectual attempt was made to treat
with Great Britain, but the firing upon the Chesa
peake, in our own waters, so complicated affairs that
Monroe was recalled, at his own request. Even
then, though he had taken so active and successful
a part in the great real-estate purchase, the Ameri
can people could discern about him no halo of glory.
The baffled negotiations with England had come
later, and they forgot, or were ignorant of England's
maxim, " Might makes right." With wounded
pride, Monroe retired to Oak Hill, the Virginian
home. Mrs. Monroe resumed her quiet, country life with
delight. It was a short-lived rest, for her husband
was chosen Governor of Virginia, which office he
soon resigned to become Secretary of State.
Cheerfully, Mrs. Monroe acquiesced in the return
to Washington, never submitting to a separation
from her husband, until the capital was threatened
by the British ; then, in anxiety for her children, she
retired to Oak Hill.
When the war policy of taking Quebec, and dicta
ting to England terms of peace at Halifax, had been
abandoned, — when the national capital had been
burned, poor Madison, who could not count for
even a piece of a man in war, tried to double his
efficient Secretary of State, by making him Secre
tary of War as well?

no MRS. MONROE.
Monroe was a man of courage, ability, and withal
a soldier, who had done good service on many a hard-
fought field. There was no more supineness. It
was known that the English were preparing for a
descent upon the Southern coast. Troops were
raised, and the secretary even pledged his private
fortune to equip them. The command was given to
Jackson, who panted to meet the British, no matter
how unequal were the forces.
Peace was signed and the southern battle was
fought. The news of peace was received in America
with transports of joy, even though it was signed at
Ghent instead of Halifax. Half the people thought
we had been fighting the wrong party, and that
Napoleon had been more perfidious and insulting
than England. The victory at New Orleans made
the people still more delirious, and they began to
wish that peace had never been signed.
In 1817, the nation recognized Monroe's great
services, and he became the Chief Magistrate, dubbed
as the "last of the cocked hats." Four years later
he received every electoral vote save one. ,The
man who threw it, gave as his only reason a deter
mination to have no man honored as Washington
had been.
The rebuilding of the White House had been com
pleted in time for his inaugural festivities ; furniture
from a royal palace in France, the crowns upon it

MRS. MONROE. Ill
being replaced by eagles, was placed in the East
Room, and everything arranged on a more elegant
footing than before.
Following the dazzling " Queen Dolly," Mrs.
Monroe made heroic exertions, but entertaining:
was not her forte. An Englishman wrote home
that the " new lady " was regal looking, retaining
traces of her early beauty, had polished manners,
but her dinners were tedious, and her levees formal,
from which all were glad to escape.
The country was at peace, and every industry
began to flourish.' The cotton gin had given an
impetus to the raising of the chief product of the
South, which even in those days gave it kingly
importance. Monroe's administration was called
"the era of good feeling," but this cotton raising
necessitated negro labor. A new state knocked at
the door of the Union, and claimed that her interests
demanded that the institution peculiar to the South,
should be allowed her. The North, who had been so
insubordinate in the last administration, 'kn&vf just
what should be done in tl)is case. The, state might
be a star, but it wasnot to be weighted with slavery.
The Slave States, in sympathy with the sister waiting
to come in, raised the cry of secession, civil war, and
bloodshed! New England was shocked! The
giants had not reached their prime, — according to
Josiah Quincy "their pin-feathers were not yet

112 MRS. MONROE.
grown," — but on the floor of Congress they battled
with their might over this mad scheme. One of, the
pin-featherless ones was ready to give and take —
this state might buy and sell humanity, but nobody
north of her raost southern lirait was to have the
same privilege. The South consented, on the prin
ciple that, " sufficient unto the day is the evil
thereof." So Missouri took her place, and people began to
feel good again, but it made the tiny crack which
shot this way and that, until the Union was so
shaky that the choosing of a president sent it all to
pieces in 1861.
It seems as if the mantle of a prophet must have
fallen upon Jefferson, for he wrote : " The Missouri
question is the most portentous one that ever
threatened the Union. In the gloomiest moments
of the Revolutionary War, I never had any
apprehension equal to that I feel from this
source." Florida Indians- began to make inroads on the
Border States, and Jackson was sent to drive them
back. With his usual skill in provoking a fight and
coming out of it triumphantly, he did this time
with Spain, capturing one of her towns. Out of
his reckless disregard of laws resulted the treaty
by which we gained Florida. On the principle that
"All's well that ends well," he escaped punishment.

MRS. MONROE. II3
though he had compromised the character and
almost the peace of the country.
Early in Monroe's administration, he determined
that if foreign nations again interfered with Amer
ica, he would not be caught as Madison had been,
ignorant of the capabilities of the country ; there
fore, he made a progress through the North and
East, and visited every military post, which brought
him in contact with the people and added greatly to
his popularity.
He travelled in the undress uniform of a Revolu
tionary officer — blue military coat of homespun,
buff doeskin breeches, cocked hat, and a black rib
bon cockade.
Mrs. Monroe's health failed, and in the latter term
of her husband's administration she was rarely seen.
In 1824, she had the honor of receiving and enter
taining Lafayette as the nation's guest.
Monroe promulgated the great doctrine that has
ever since been stamped with his name, which means
that there is to be no picking nor stealing on the
American Continent by European nations. The
French thought to test the strength of it in Mexico,
but the ignominious withdrawal of their troops and
the execution of Maximilian was the result. Had
the Mexicans been slow of hand, United States
troops were ready to step to the front.
Monroe retired, crowned with honors. Mrs. Mon-

114 MRS. MONROE.
roe introduced the custom of returning no visits,
which has been followed by all her successors in the
White House.
Oak Hill is in the neighborhood of MonticeHo and
Montpellier, and Monroe shared with Jefferson and
Madison the burden of entertaining guests who,
frora friendship or curiosity, thronged their homes.
Congress had never reimbursed Monroe for the
money he had advanced in the war of 1812. Public
duties had so engrossed him, that he had given no
attention to his private affairs, and, like Jefferson, he
was burdened with debt.
Mrs. Monroe's two daughters were married and
lived at a distance. Her feeble health gave her an
excuse to live the recluse life she enjoyed. Five
years after her husband's retirement, she was seized
by a sudden illness, which proved fatal.
Monroe's narrow means compelled him to give
up -his horae, and he went to New York, to the resi
dence of his son-in-law, Mr. Samuel L. Gouverneur.
While Congress was discussing some means for his
relief, he died on the Fourth of July — a year after
the death of his wife — " poor in money, but rich in
honor." He was buried first in what was known as the
Old Marble Cemetery, from which the body was
afterwards removed to the Gouverneur family vault,
in the Second Street Cemetery.

MRS. MONROE. II 5
The year 1858 — the one hundredth anniversary
of Mr. Monroe's birth — was thought to be a fitting
time to remove his remains from the place where
they had lain for twenty-seven years, to their final
resting-place, in the capital of the state which gave
him birth.
The New York city government determined that
the removal should be conducted with great mag
nificence, and also to make the occasion one of
kindly and fraternal feeling between the authorities
and volunteer soldiery of New York and those of
the State of Virginia, the Secretary of State
offered the revenue cutter, " Harriet Lane," to bear
the remains to Richmond.
July second, at five in the morning (an hour least
likely to attract attention) the Committee from Vir
ginia, the New York Committee, the surviving rela
tives of the family, and some others, assembled at
the cemetery.
A little wren-house, which had long served as the
only thing to mark the spot, still stood there.
The body was taken to the Church of the Annun
ciation, and left there under guard.
In the aftemoon it was removed to the City Hall,
escorted by one of the largest and most imposing
military and civic processions the citizens of New
York had ever witnessed. During the march the
bells were tolled, the flags in the pOrt were at half-

Il6 MRS. MONROE.
mast, and minute guns were fired. The Eighth
Regiment stood guard during the night. In the
morning the Seventh Regiment escorted the remains
to the steamer, and formally delivered them to the
Virginians. The Seventh chartered another steamer,
and followed the " Harriet Lane " to Richmond.
Governor Wise, with the military and city digni
taries, was at the wharf to receive them.
The body was taken to the cemetery, where the
Governor made an address, and prayers were offered.
While the troops rested on their arms, it was low
ered into the grave.
The nation has had many a pompous funeral since,
but at that day there had never been seen one con
ducted with so much magnificence and ceremony.
The Seventh Regiment had a taste of Old Vir
ginia hospitality, were served in the most sumptuous
style, and left, each side giving a three times three.

MRS. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.
Miss Louisa Catharine Johnson was the wife of
the sixth, and what may be called the last of the
Presidents of the Revolution. She was born in Lon
don, in 1775. Her father was a native American,
the family home in Maryland ; her uncle was gover
nor of that state, and signer of the Declaration of
Independence. Living in England, where public feeling was against
the colonies, where " every man," according to Frank
lin, " seemed to consider himself as a piece of a sov
ereign over America, seemed to jostle into the throne
of the King, and talk of our subjects in the colonies,"
was not pleasant for a man, every throb of whose
heart was for the land of his birth. He sacrificed
his business interests, and passed over to France,
with his family.
When the struggle of the Revolution was over, and
England had yielded to ^the inevitable, he returned
and held an office under the American government.
His daughter. Miss Louisa Catharine, spent the
greater part of her girlhood in London, which gave
her unusual advantages, and she became a proficient
in many accomplishments. 117

Il8 MRS. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.
John Quincy Adams was born in the very hotbed
of the Rebellion, was cradled by the songs of liberty ;
Independence was the watchword of all about him.
In Boston, he had seen the redcoats pace the street
before his father's bouse, giving law to the citizens, .
even interfering with the sports of the boys, who so
manfully stood for their rights before the stern Eng
lish commander that he was forced to admire them,
and ordered his soldiers not to interfere with the
snow-hills, nor with the sliding and skating of the
boys. In the Quincy home, young Adams had stood in
his mother's kitchen, and seen her spoons melted
into bullets ; had seen house and barn given up to
the patriot soldiers.
With a father ready to "sink or swim, live or die,
survive or perish," for the independence of his coun
try, — with a mother, who, without ever a thought of
woman's rights, bent herself with Spartan energy to
train her boys for patriots, ready to work in the field,
if thereby she could add one more arm to the army,
it is not strange that this boy breathed in the love of
liberty from the air.
Twice, as a mere boy, he accompanied his father
to Europe. Placed at the best of schools, he, too,
had had uncommon advantages, and, as his exacting
father said, "behaved like a man." Wishing to put
an American stamp on his education, he returned at

MRS. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. II9
eighteen and entered an advanced class at Harvard.
Tvvo years later, he graduated and studied law. He
began his eminent career in Boston, and in a four
years' struggle, experienced all the discouragements
a young lawyer has to face.
As clients were few, he wrote for the press a series
of articles, which showed so much political sagacity
that they were supposed to have been written by his
father. They attracted the attention of Washing
ton, who appointed him to represent America at the
Hague. His diplomatic duties called him to London,
where he first met Miss Johnson, and an intimacy
began, which soon ripened into an engagement.
When his father became President, his nice sense of
honor determined hira to recall his son. Better ad
vised by Washington, he siraply transferred hira to
Berlin. At this time he fulfiHed his engagement
with Miss Johnson, and took her to that court, a
bride. When Adams was to give way to Jefferson, he re
called his son, lest he should impose that unpleasant
duty upon his old friend, as they differed in political
policy. Mr. Adams settled at the corner of Tremont
and Boylston Streets, 'Boston.
It was Mrs. Adams's first introduction to New
England, and to her husband's family. The home
was soon broken up, and she had the pleasure of
meeting her own relatives at the • South, as Mr.

I20 MRS. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.
Adams was elected United States senator, which
office he finally resigned, as he and his constituents
were not one on the Embargo question.
When Madison came into power, he appointed him
minister to Russia. At this time, three little ones
claimed the mother's care, and there was a struggle.
It ended in a resolve to go with her husband, leaving
two children in the care of the grandparents.
Russia, with its Peter, its Catharines, and the mad
Paul, had hardly been considered within the pale of
civilized countries, but, now, under the chivalrous
bearing of the youthful Alexander, she was taking a
prominent place in the stately march of European
nations. Court was maintained in the most princely
style. Parsimony may be an exaggerated term, but New
England thrift and natural inclinations led Mr. and
Mrs. Adams to live as quietly as their official station
would allow, and here was laid the foundation of their
fortune ; also the foundation of the amicable relations
which have ever since continued between Russia and
America. Mr. and Mrs. Adams may be said to have lived
abroad in the days of modern romance. They were
in Russia at the battle of Borodino, — when the old
capital was burned, when every ear was strained, lis
tening, lest the conqueror would knock at the gates
of the new.

MRS. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 121
All Europe breathed atid grew calm when Napoleon
was banished to Elba. The war between England
and America, however, dragged wearily on. Alexan
der offered to mediate, and try to bring about peace.
Comraissioners carae frora America, but negotiations
failed, as England, from petty jealousy, refused to act
in concert with Russia. The party repaired to Ghent,
soon foHowed by Adams, as England consented to
enter into negotiations there. Circumstances com
pelled Mrs. Adams to remain in Russia. In the
early spring, when Mr. Adams found he was not to
return, he suraraoned her to join him in Paris.
Now the woman showed she had true courage.
She travelled by land from St. Petersburg to Paris,
with only servants and her fourteen-year-old son.
Alexander gave her a passport, but America had so
risen in power that she found her best safeguard
was in announcing herself as the wife of the Ameri
can rainister. Stories of robbery and raurder were
told her at every stopping-place. Lawless, dis
banded soldiers of the worst class were scattered
all over the continent. Once, in Courland, they
were blocked at night by the snow, and were obliged
to rouse the peasants to shovel thera out.
Oh that she could have wielded the facile pen, and
possessed the glowing iraagery of her raother-in-law !
On the way, Mrs. Adams was told the news that
startled all Europe. Napoleon had escaped from

122 MRS. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.
Elba. Crowned heads, nobles, and peasants sprang
to arms. Every step was dangerous ; even a Polish
cap on the head of a servant was a signal for a quar
rel. When she reached the frontiers of France,
Napoleon was making his seven-hundred-mile march
to the capital.
His very name was a terror to her Russian ser
vants, and not one would cross the border. Once
she was surrounded by troops so inflamed that not
even a woman could pass without declaring her
political faith and purpose. She appealed to the
commander, and by his advice turned back, and, by
a longer route, reached Paris and her husband.
It was just after the flight of the Bourbons, and
they were present at the entrance of Napoleon,
beheld the adoration of the people as he was borne
aloft in their arms, through the arched gallery of the
Louvre, into the Tuileries.
In May, they went to England and met the chH
dren from whom they had been, for six years,
parted. A daughter had been born and buried in
Russia. Mr. Adams received an appointment as minister
to the Court of St. James, and a house was taken in
London. The prophecy of Washington was fulfilled : " I
shall be much mistaken, if, in as short a time as can
well be expected, he (Mr. Adams) is, not found at.

MRS. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 1 23
the head of the diplomatic corps, be the govern
ment administered by whomsoever the people may
choose." As a diplomatist and cultured man, Mr. Adams
made a great impression, but the health of Mrs.
Adams was delicate, and she went but little into
society ; maybe she was glad of an excuse for not
frequenting the court of the Regent.
Adams had served as foreign ambassador under
three presidents, and now a fourth summoned him
home to the office of Secretary of State, which grati
fied the extreme wish of his mother. During his
term of eight years, his wife presided over his house
with dignity and grace. She was without personal
beauty, but she had acquired in the different courts
of Europe an elegance of manner to which few could
attain. According to her son, she made no exclu
sions in her entertainments on account of political
hostility ; though keenly alive to the reputation of
her husband, she sought only " to amuse and enliven
society," and her success was admitted to be com
plete. Jackson was in Washington in the winter of 1823-
24, and Mrs. Adams gave in his honor, on the eighth
of January, one of the largest and most brilliant par
ties which had ever been given at the capital. So
great was the enthusiasm and curiosity to see the
man who had killed the British, that she gracefully

124 MRS. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.
and obligingly took his arm and made a tour of her
drawing-rooms. The occasion and the guests were commemorated
in the following verses by Mr. John T. Agg, which
created great interest at the time and have hardly
yet lost their flavor. The author bore the distinc
tion* of being the first to practise stenography in
Washington. MRS. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS'S PARTY.
JANUARY 8, 1824.
¦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.
¦yVend 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 charms that nature lent her.
Gay McKim with city air
And winning Gates and Vanderventer,
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.

MRS. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 1 25
Wend you with the world to-night?
East and West, and South and North
Form a constellation bright,
And pour a blended brilliance forth.
See the tide of fashion flowing,
'Tis the hour of beauty's reign.
Webster, Hamilton are going
Eastern Lloyd 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,
AU are gone to Mrs. Adaras.
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 raerry tambourine.
Many a forra of fairy birth.
Many a Hebe yet unwon,
Wirt, a gem of purest worth,
Lively, laughing Pleasanton,
"Vails and Taylor will be there
Gay Monroe, so debonair,
Hellen, pleasure's harbinger,
Ramsay, Cottringer aud 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 1

126 MRS. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.
Haste away then, seize the hour
Shun the thorn and pluck the flower.
Youth in all its springtime blooming.
Age, the guise of youth assuming,
Wit, through all circles gleaming.
Glittering wealth and beauty beaming :
Belles and matrons, maids and madams,
All are gone to Mrs. Adams.
When Jackson carae to tbe capital, expecting to
be honored with the office of President and for the
time bottled his wrath, Mrs. Adams, whose husband
was the successful candidate, was very delicate and
courteous in her attentions.
Mr. Adaras bent all his energies to make Monroe's
administration a success ; and, at its close was chosen
to fill his place. He raay be said to have entered the
executive mansion "under the willows."
As Monroe's second term began to draw towards a
close, so did the "era of good feeling." Four candi
dates were ambitious to fill his place ; the Secretary
of State, the idol of the west, the paralytic of
Georgia, and the hero of New Orleans. There was
just one "scramble" to be ahead. Each one was
vHified in turn, and in the harshest terms.
Adams was precise, cold, stiff, austere, stubborn,
harsh, irritable, taciturn, — everything disagreeable
that could be put into one l^w England Puritan ; but
this oft-raaligned individual has other qualities, and
not one was left out in the composition of John

MRS. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 1 27
Quincy Adams, — he had honesty, courage, industry,
patriotisra, economy, high principles ; was the soul
of honor, the erabodiraent of duty, hard-working,
spotless in private life, and as severe upon himself as
upon others.
As candidate for the highest office, Adaras bitterly
said : " It seeras as if every liar and calumniator in
the country were at work day and night, to destroy
my character," and then he was taunted with marry
ing an English wife.
Clay loved to play cards and was dubbed a gam
bler ; Crawford was accused of being corrupt in his
official duties, as Secretary of the Treasury ; Jackson
was denounced as the author of crimes enough to
make one's hair stand on end.
The result of the election crowded Clay from the
ranks, as according to the Constitution, the House
must choose from the three candidates who shall
have received the greatest number of votes.
If he could not be President hiraself, he was the
Speaker of the House, which gave him power and
influence enough to say who should be. There was
nothing in common between the brilliant, social,
frank, generous Kentuckian and the Puritan New
Englander, — at Ghent they could only agree to dif
fer. Clay said himself, if he could choose from the
mass, he would never choose Adams, but Crawford
could not use his fingers, seemed marked by death.

128 MRS. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.
and the remaining candidate was that ignorant, brawl
ing Jackson, who disregarded law, couldn't speak in
Congress without " choking with rage," never did do-
any good except the killing of twenty-five hundred
Englishmen, which certainly deserved a big reward,
but surely not that of the Chief Magistracy of the
United States, yet the raan had received the highest
number of electoral votes.
Adams was chosen as the best of a poor lot, and
it was gall and wormwood to his proud, independent
spirit. He would rather have resigned than
served, but did he resign, Calhoun as vice-president,
would succeed him, and he was, to Adaras, the em
bodiment of all that was dangerous to his country.
Mr. Adams was the first to walk into the E.x-
ecutive Mansion, in the Way that Mrs. Madison said
others came out.
It was a time of quiet and prosperity ; even
Europe was in repose. Napoleon was at St. Helena,
and this time England made sure that there could
be no escape.
As the Monroes had had the honor of welcoming
Lafayette, the Adamses had the honor of speeding
the parting of the nation's guest. The most im
posing scene ever witnessed in the White House
was on the day of his departure. Officers of the
general government, civil, military, and naval, the
authorities of Washington, Georgetown, and Alex-,

MRS. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 1 29
andria, with a host of citizens and strangers were
assembled. Men wept and embraced their guest in
effusive French fashion. In an open barouche,
followed by an immense procession, military bands
of music, amid peals of artillery, he was driven to
the banks of the Potomac, where the steamer Mount
Vernon took hira to the " Brandywine," a frigate
named in honor of his gallant exploits, which Con
gress had placed at his service.
Socially, the administration was popular. Mrs.
Adams was petite and brilliant, buoyant in spirit,
lively in disposition, bright and witty in conversa
tion. She kept up the style of the evening levees
introduced by Mrs. Madison, and improved upon
the quality of the refreshments offered. She pre
sided gracefully over the frequent dinners given
by her husband, ignoring all subjects of controversy.
She rigidly abstained from meddling with political
affairs. Once, ladies from the extreme aristocracy of the
South, tried to enlist her services in advancing a
young lieutenant. She politely listened, but there
was a keen rebuke in her answer : " Truly, ladies,
though Mesdames Maintenon and Pompadour are
said to have controHed the military appointments of
their times, I do not think such matters appertain to
women." Mr. Adams was icily cold in manner, would use

130 MRS. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.
no ceremony in dismissing from his presence the
• most distinguished politicians, visiting at the capital,
¦ — seemed to think he should lower bis self-respect
by being even civilly polite. A note of thanks for
a political favor, was to him as criminal as buying
votes to many a modern politician. No man was
ever more ambitious to be endorsed by a reelection
than he, but he scorned to owe favor to one who
pulled a wire for the purpose. The power to make
friends was not one of his gifts. If there were a
warm spot in the depths of the man's heart, as
Edward Everett in his eulogy clairaed, coraraon
humanity could not dive deep enough to reach it.
His son John, who was his private secretary, had
his father's stiffness added to the manners of — well,
not those of a gentleman.
,At one of his mother's levees, after she had most
politely received a lady from Boston, accompanied
by her husband, who was the editor of a Washing
ton paper, belonging to the opposition, he was'
asked: "Who is that lady.?" "That," in a voice
intended to be heard, "is the wife of one Russell
Jarvis, and if he knew how contemptibly he is
viewed in this house, they would not be here."
Mr. Jarvis stopped to inquire by whora the offen
sive remark was made, made his adieux to Mrs.
Adams, and left. The next day Mr. Jarvis sent a
note, by a friend, asking an explanation from the

MRS. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. I3I
young man. He told the bearer, that he had no
apology to make to Mr. Jarvis, and that he wished
for no correspondence with him ; considering his
personal relations with the President, he had no right
to be at the drawing-room.
Soon after, Mr. Jarvis met the insolent youth in
the Capitol, pulled his nose and slapped his face.
Master John complained to papa, who sent a
special message to Congress, detailing the affair.
Comraittees were appointed and out of respect to
the President, they went over the pros and cons of
the fray, but neither punishment nor censure fell
upon Mr. Jarvis.
After the rebuilding of the Executive Mansion,
a handsome sum was appropriated for decorating
it, but by an embezzlement a large part was lost,
and the Adamses found it meagrely furnished and
what there was in a very shabby condition. From
the appropriation made upon the advent of Mr.
Adams, he bought a bHliard-table for his son. The
purchase was commented on with so much severity
that the president paid the bih from his private
purse. Master John, of unenviable notoriety was married
in the White House, to his mother's niece. Miss
Mary Hellen. Solomon said, "there is a time to
dance," and at this marriage the solemn President
evidently thought the time had come, and went

132 MRS. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.
through a Virginia reel with the spirit inspired by
wedding rites.
¦ Mr. Adams's adrainistration was a period of great
national prosperity ; the first railroad was buHt,
and the Erie Canal opened.
There was a new subject of contention between
the North and South, — this time it was a protective .
tariff, or the "American System," as some were
pleased to call it ; however, the country remained
intact, as it has through many a severer test, but this
was the hinge on which the coming election was to
turn. Jackson was elected, and John Quincy Adams was
a bitterly disappointed raan. It was usual and cour
teous for the President-elect to pay his respects to
the President in power, especially would it have been
becoming for this one, who had been frequently dined
by the President, and had received civilities from his
lady in former days.
Now, Jackson was bowed with grief for the loss of
his wife. An official organ had traduced her, and
this was the one sin for which he forgave no man,
and he believed that the President had at least
prompted the article.
Adams could never rise to the height of magnan
imity, and pettily retaliated by absenting himself
from the inaugural ceremonies.
Surely, " A chip of the old block ; " John Adams

MRS. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 1 33
had done the same thing — both great, both can
tankerous. Mr. Adams left the Executive Mansion on the third
of March, and was taking his daHy horseback ride,
when the booming of cannon announced that his
successor had taken the oath of office.
The family returned to New England, and two
years later he was chosen representative to Congress.
With the man trained by Abigail Adams, it was duty
to serve his country. It was the first tirae an ex-
president had entered that Hall as a raeraber. For
sixteen years, through Jackson's, Van Buren's, Harri
son's, Tyler's, and Polk's terras, he kept his seat.
During this period, Mrs. Adams lived a quiet, secluded
life, happy in husband and home. Of her four child
ren only one son, Charles Francis Adams, reraained.
The old man had turned fourscore, but the grass
hopper never became a burden. The 20th of Febru
ary, 1848 was Sunday. At morning and evening
service he was in his place ; a third service was in his
library, where Mrs. Adams read a serraon of Bishop
WHberforce's, on " Tirae." In the raorning he went
to the Capitol with unwonted alacrity, wrote a poera,
twice gave his autograph, voted, and without warning
fell, stricken with paralysis, into the arms of a mem
ber near him. There came a gleam of consciousness,
and he asked for his wife, who sat by his side, then
he relapsed. He roused once more, only to say.

134 MRS. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.
" This is the last of earth. I am content." He lin
gered until the evening of the third day.
Beneath the dorae of the Capitol, in the field of his
labors, trials, and triumphs, the " golden bowl was
broken, and the silver cord loosed." Fortunate in
his lineage, place of nativity, education, age, country,
and in his death. A son from each state and terri
tory in the-Union bore his body in solemn triumph
to New England, and in Faneuil Hall consigned it to
the citizens of Massachusetts, who placed it in the
tomb at Quincy.
All his life he had practised economy, and conse
quently left a large estate. Mrs. Adams had learned
to prefer New England to the South. She returned
to the family residence, and lived, surrounded by
grandchildren and relatives, four more years, and
died at the age of seventy-seven.
A distinguished visitor at her home wrote : " Mrs.
Adams is described in a word — a lady. She has all
the warmth of heart and ease of manner, that mark
the character of Southern ladies." A member of her
own family has written that her varied accomplish
ments made her the ornament of the home circle, but
there was little in her private life that can be of
interest to the public. As the wife of John Quincy
Adams, the " old man eloquent," and as an elegant
lady of the White House, her name will ever be dis
tinguished in the anhals of history.

MRS. JACKSON.
Late in December, 1789, a party of emigrants
from Virginia went by water to Tennessee. The
windings of the river made the distance raore than
two thousand railes, and they were: four raonths on
the way. It was a hard, perilous journey ; to the
severity of the season was added fear of the Indians
who lurked along the banks. Twenty-eight of the
party were captured. Children were born and died.
At the raouth of the Ohio, the hardships, the
swift current, and the unknown dangers, struck dis
may into the hearts of many, and they sailed down
the Mississippi to Natchez.
The leader of the party was Captain Donelson, a
bold backwoodsman, who had with him his family,
among whom was his daughter, a girl twelve years
old, brown-skinned, black-eyed, and full of vivacity,
capable of taking the helm or leading a dance on the
flat boat.
Having reached what is now NashviHe, the party
settled in log houses, buOt by men sent on a few
months earlier to prepare the way. They laid out
farms and lived the hard life of pioneers, always
'35

136 MRS. JACKSON.
harassed by Indians. Amid such surroundings,
Rachael Donelson sprang to womanhood.
At a time of short crops and great scarcity. Cap
tain Donelson took his family to Kentucky, where
food was more abundant. There, Lewis Robards, a
young backwoodsman, saw and admired his pretty
daughter, and, after a short wooing, married and
took her to his mother's log cabin.
Whether it were true love or not, it did not run
smooth. The story-telling, the gayety, and high
spirits, which had been so winning in the. girl, the
husband denounced as something worse than impro
prieties in the wife. Stormy scenes often took
place, and finally he left her. His mother alwa,ys
took Rachael's side, which would hardly haVe been
the case, if Lewis's jealousy had been well founded.
The deserted wife went to her father's house
in Nashville, to which the famHy had returned.
Robards came too, owned his jealousy had been
foolish, through friends gained his wife's pardon,
and became an inmate of the block house. Cap
tain Donelson had been killed a few months before
by the Indians, and now his wife kept the best
boarding-house in the place.
Among the boarders was a singular-looking man,
over six feet high, lank in figure, red-haired, uncouth
in dress, a swearing, gambling, cock-fighting fellow,
called Andrew Jackson. Out of this unpleasant

MRS. JACKSON. 137
exterior, shone a pair of dark blue, deep-set eyes,
eyes that could just blaze when turned upon a foe,
but raelt into tenderness when turned upon a
woman, with whom he always bore the air of a
protector. When he drew up his tall, spare figure,
there was a sort of majesty in his presence that
commanded respect, and, with his bluff, frank hon
esty, won him a host of friends, even among the
better class.
Soon Robards declared the melting eyes of this
fellow were turned too often upon his wife, and hers
flashed love in return. To keep the peace, Jackson
left the house, but the husband was not appeased.
His jealous remarks were repeated to Jackson, who
fell into one of his terrible rages, sought out the
husband, told hira if he ever again connected his
name with Mrs. Robards, he would cut his ears from
his head, — indeed he was tempted to do it before
he had a chance to repeat his words.
His frenzy frightened Robards, who slunk away to
the office of a justice of the peace and swore out a
warrant. Jackson was arrested, and a guard called to
take him to the court, the jealous husband follow
ing in the rear. The prisoner asked from one of the
guard, the loan of a knife ; the man refusing, he
promised on honor to hurt no one. It was handed
to hira ; he exarained the edge, felt the point, all the
tirae flashing his blazing eyes on his accuser. In

138 MRS. JACKSON.
those wHd days, the man dared not rely on the law,
and in his terror took to his heels. Jackson fol
lowed for some distance, then carae back and walked
quietly into court. The case was called, but as there
was no complainant, he was discharged.
Robards again deserted his wife and left the state.
Absence made her dearer, and again he came back
and sued for pardon. Twice accused and twice for
saken, the woman rose, threw back scorn for scorn.
To escape him, she planned a visit to Natchez.
A sail down the Mississippi in those days was full
of danger, and Jackson, always chivalrous to women,
especially to this one, forsaken on his account,
offered to be her protector. The journey was safely
made and he left her with her friends.
Soon carae the story that the enraged husband had
gained a divorce in Virginia. Jackson lost no time
in asking to fill t'he husband's place, — maybe the
woman's heart had been won before, — any way,
there was a marriage. For the first time, Rachael
had a log cabin of her own, and had a husband who
was not only tender, but treated her with a sort of
reverence, as if she were something holy, like the
devotion of the olden knights, of which we read in
the days of chivalry.
Two years later, the pair were startled by hearing
that Robards had at first simply filed a complaint,
and that the divorce had just been granted on the

MRS. JACKSON. 1 39
ground of open adultery. Jackson's face blanched,
and he swore " by tbe Eternal," his favorite oath,
that the woraan was his lawful wife before God and
man, but he was a prudent man ; a second time the
pair stood before a priest and repeated their marriage
vows. Mrs. Jackson was among the first in the social
scale, and lost no caste by this unfortunate affair.
The towns-people had heard what she had heard, had
believed, as she had believed, — that she was free to
marry. Had Jackson lived the life of a Tennessee
planter, it might not have mattered, but, alas for the
woraan, his career led to farae.
If she had as Robards said, let her eyes speak love
to Jackson, when such speaking had been traitorous
to him, her wedded husband, he was avenged in her
last days.
But one raan ever dared allude to this irregularity
in Jackson's presence, and he had reason to wish he
had never been born.
Jackson ripped out oaths enough to curdle one's
blood, swore " by the Eternal " he would take his
life ; shots were fired in the public street, but the
man escaped. Again Jackson raet hira on the high
way, called upon him to defend himself, and fell on
him with such fury that the man's life was only
saved by the help of some passing travellers. To
speak ill of his wife was likened to the sin against
the Holy Ghost, — unpardonable.

140 MRS. JACKSON.
Jackson carae to Tennessee as a lawyer, but ac
quired no fame. In payment for services he took
land, the coraraon currency of the country, forsook
the law, and turned planter.
The Tennesseans felt ill-used by governraent, and
sent Jackson as representative to Congress, feeling
sure, from his fearless, indomitable will, their claims
would be pushed with spirit.
The cultured, European Gallatin described him at
that time as tall, lank, uncouth, with long red locks
hanging over his face ; queue down his back, tied in
an eel skin ; dress singular ; manners those of a rough
backwoodsman ; but his person and manners, like rare
diamonds, were capable of taking an immense polish.
As representative, his conduct was highly approved
by his constituents, and the next year he was re
turned as senator. The life was so distasteful, he
resigned after one session.
The same year, he was appointed Judge of the Su
preme Court of the State. He held the office six
years, and his conduct was ever in keeping with the
man. Once an offender resisted arrest, — " Summon a
posse," shouted the judge ; the sheriff did so, came
back, said the man was armed, and could not be taken.
" Since you can't obey my orders, Mr. Sheriff,
summon me," thundered the judge. Had the man
disobeyed, he might have been shot.

MRS. JACKSON. I4I
The judge adjourned the court ten minutes, — out
he strode; before the time expired, he was in his
seat, the prisoner in the dock.
He had personal quarrels by the score. At one
time he caned a man ; another, fought a duel. Dick
inson fell at his fire, and, so deadly was his purpose,
that he said : " I should have hit him, if he had shot
me through the brain."
The quarrel was one of longstanding. Dickinson
was the best shot in the county, and it was said he
kept in constant practice for this very duel.
It was fought in a secluded place, far from town, to
which both parties repaired the day previous.
Dickinson kissed his young wife at parting, and
said, " I shall surely be at home to-morrow night,
darling." At an early hour, principals, seconds, and sur
geons, rode to the fatal spot. The polite courtesies
of such occasions were strictly observed.
The arrangement of the seconds was, that the men
should be placed eight paces apart, and each should
stand at the mark until he had received one shot ; at
the word " fire," each should fire as soon as he pleased.
Dickinson was the quicker and sent the first shot, —
Jackson stood erect, — "Good God, have I missed
him ! " exclairaed Dickinson.
Jackson slowly raised his pistol and took deliberate
aim — the pistol stopped, half cocked.

142 MRS. JACKSON.
In the excitement Dickinson fell back. "Back to
the mark, you scoundrel," shouted Jackson's second.
Back he stepped, and Jackson aimed the second time ;
the man fell mortally wounded.
All the long hours of that summer day he writhed
in agqny ; at night came the young wife, only to find
him hushed in death.
To the world of to-day, the whole thing was brutal,
but even at that time there was a howl of rage, that
a man should have taken a second chance.
Jackson himself was wounded, but such was his
nerve and pride, he walked erect from the field, lest
his dying foe should have the satisfaction of knowing
his shot had told. Yet (it seems as if it were mock
politeness), he sent wine and the offer of the services
of his own surgeon.
His wound never healed well, and though he lived
to be an old man, it was Dickinson's bullet that caused
his death.
His domestic life was perfect. Mrs. Jackson was
jovial, fond of dancing, riding, full of anecdotes, a
famous story-teller, happy herself, and a source of
happiness to all about her.
They had but one grief ; both loved and desired
chfldren and children were denied them. Jackson
had no relatives, but those of his wife were like the,
sands of the sea for multitude.
To one brother were born twin boys. Mrs. Jack-

"MRS. JACKSON. 1 43
son took one home, hoping thereby to provide a son
for her husband. He became dotingly fond of the
boy, gave him his own name, and made him his heir.
The boy proved, next his wife, the delight of his life,
and the hope of his old age,
Another Andrew, a nephew, was taken home and
educated. Beside these, a merry crew of nephews
and nieces were always flitting about, always wel
corae. The Creek Indians, armed and incited by the
British, had massacred the garrison at Fort Minis.
The militia of Tennessee were called out, and Jack
son given the command. Now the man had found
his place. He was born to be a military hero.
By skill and celerity of movement, he enclosed the
Creeks in a trap at Horse Shoe Bend. The battle
began. Not an Indian would ask or accept of quar
ter. In a few hours the massacre of Fort Miras was
avenged, the power of the Creeks broken, and Jack
son faraous.
He tarnished his fame by executing a mutinous
lad — he was only seventeen, and ignorant of mili
tary rules. He meant no wrong, . but was roughly
and unreasonably ordered about by his superior.
His spirit rose and he refused obedience.
In 1 8 14, Jackson was appointed brigadier-general,
and sent to New Orleans, where the British seemed
to threaten an attack. Dismay filled every heart.

144 MRS. JACKSON.
The woraen prepared for flight : wore poniards, de
terrained to die rather than fall into the hands of the
soldiery, fresh frora the atrocities in Sp^in, where the
watchword had been "beauty and booty."
Soon the news flew, Jackson — Jackson the terri
ble — had come ; held in dread, yet his presence
breathed safety.
He calmed the fair Creoles, swore by the Eternal,
the eneray should never enter the place, unless it
were over his dead body.
As a boy he had seen and felt the cruelties of
Tarleton, and in fury had said, " Oh, if I were a man,
how I would sweep down the British with my grass-
blade ! " He had never forgotten, and now his time
had come. Itwas his first battle against a civilized
foe and he was armed with hatred, often exclaiming,
" I will smash them, so help me God."
The enemy, twelve thousand strong, trained in the
Peninsula, were led by Pakenham, bearing the scars
of many a victorious battle, a hero at Salamanca and
Badajoz, brother-in-law and favorite of Wellington.
Jackson had less than six thousand men, raw
militia and citizens of New Orleans, many without
arms. For two weeks, both sides prepared for the strife ;
one with sand and sugar, the other with sand and
cotton bags ; the sugar proving even a more fatal
mistake than the cotton.

MRS. JACKSON. I45
As the sun struggled through the fog on the eighth
of January, the enemy were seen, coming on at
steady British pace.
The American line, looking like a row of fiery fur
naces, drove them back at the first fire. Under the
brave Highlanders, they rallied, and with Pakenham
at their head rushed on like the " six hundred,"
"into the jaws of death."
In twenty-five minutes the rout was complete ;
seven hundred killed, among whom was the renowned
Pakenham ; fourteen hundred wounded, and five hun
dred prisoners. So panic stricken had been the
men, they had fallen prostrate among the dead and
wounded. Jackson went upon the field, and as they
rose one by one, he likened it to the rising from the
dead on the last day, and ever after felt equal to de
scribing the resurrection, as if it had passed, and he
had been an eyewitness.
The city was delirious with joy. If Jackson had
been a hero before, he was a demigod now. He
executed six militia men, but he had saved New
Orleans, avenged the burning of Washington, re
stored the lustre to American arms, so diraraed on
the Atlantic coast.
Henry Clay said he could now go to England with
out hurailiation.
During his triumphant stay in New Orleans, his
wife and little son joined him. Mrs. Jackson had

146 MRS. JACKSON.
grown coarse and stout — the brunette beauty of her
girlhood had changed to the look of a half-breed.
Horaely in speech and in costume — bythe side of
her elegant husband, now an adept in drawing-room .
arts, she might have been taken for a servant, had
it not been for the marked attention he paid her —
seemed blind to her homely bearing and country
manners. In all companies and upon all occasions, he gave
proof that his " bonny brown wife " was to him the
dearest and most revered of human beings.
The elesrant Creoles took the cue — made much of
her ; gave her jewelry /(the topaz jewelry that is seen
in her portrait at the Hermitage), prepared silks and
satins for the dinners and parties given in honor of
the general. To see the pair dance was something
grotesque ; but how she enjoyed the honors paid her
husband ! The little Andrew was the pet of the
ladies and of the soldiers — everywhere at home.
The journey to NashviHe was one continued
ovation. A year later Mrs. Jackson became a Presbyterian
convert, — her letters are those of a canting devotee,
but her daily, life was proof of her sincerity; always
strict in her duties, kind to the poor, and to all about
her, now she aimed to live the higher life.
To please her, Jackson built a church on the
estate, and his house was a home for all clergymen

MRS. JACKSON. 1 47
of her creed. He sympathized in her new resolves,
took part in all her plans, only holding himself aloof.
His conversation was always mixed with oaths, but
if his wife asked him to crave a blessing at table, he
bowed his head, did it in the most reverent manner,
then went on with the half-finished oath, as if there
had been no such interlude.
When the church was finished, he built the Her
mitage, the finest house in the state, as a love gift
to his wife. When some one suggested that higher
land would be a better site, " No, Mrs. Jackson chose
this spot, the house is for her and it shall be where
she says," was his reply.
In the Seminole war, he was sent to Florida, then
owned by Spain. In forty-six days the war was
ended, but he had nearly embroiled England and
America in a new war by taking Pensacola, a
Spanish town, and executing Arbuthnot and Am-
bister ; one an Englishman, the other a Scotchman.
Upon the purchase of Florida in 1821, Jackson
was sent to receive the transfer, with rank of gover
nor, which to him meant autocrat.
Now he embroils his country with Spain, by put
ting the ex-governor. Colonel Callava, a Spanish
grandee, into the calaboose, and ordering all Spanish
officers who had remained to leave within four days,
under penalty of arrest.
John Quincy Adams, whose duty it was ag diplom-

148 MRS. JACKSON.,
atist, to smooth foreign powers, used to say he
dreaded the coming of a maH from Florida — not
knowing what Jackson -might do next.
Mrs. Jackson, who was with him, had looked on
with horror at the shameless Sabbath breaking
under Spanish rule ; stores, theatres, and gambling
houses all open — a "Godless land" she writes her
friends. The Sunday before the transfer, she gave
out word it was the last that would be so desecrated,
and sure enough, her lord, to please her, put the
place under strict Puritan rule ; even swearing was
his sole prerogative.
Mrs. Jackson wrote home: —
" Yesterday I had the happiness of witnessing the
truth of what I had said. Great order was observed ;
the doors kept shut, the gambling houses demolished,
fiddling and dancing not heard any more on the
Lord's day ; cursing not to be heard. ... I have
heard but one gospel sermon since I left home.
Do not be uneasy for me. 'Although the vine
yield no fruit, and the olive no oil, yet I will serve
the Lord.' "
In 1824, Jackson -was one of the four candidates
for the presidency : neither had the majority re
quired and the election, went to the House of Rep
resentatives. The General and Mrs. Jackson went
in a coach and six to Washington. As he,^ had the
greatest num|Der of electoral votes, he expected the

MRS. JACKSON. 1 49

iJ*

House would decide in his favor, but, through Clay's
influence, Adaras was chosen.
Jackson had at first avowed his unfitness for the
oflRce, but the honor of the position and the sense of
power — power as he only dared to use it, always the
sweetest morsel to hira, had corae to be a craving.
He had corae in the pride of success to see the high
place given to another. He disserabled his wrath,
but it was all bottled, to be poured out in unstinted
raeasure upon the heads of those who had defrauded
hira, if ever his day of power came.
It was Mrs. Jackson's first visit to the capital.
The multitude of churches and the able pastors
filled her with delight — yet, Washington was an
unholy place in her eyes. She wrote home, " The
play-actors have sent me a letter requesting my
countenance. No. Tickets come, to balls and
parties. No, not one. Mr. Jackson encourages me
and wishes me to remain steadfast." In another
letter she adraits she has been to a playhouse, but
adds that if her friends could know what she suf
fered and the loathing she felt, they would forgive
her. Her visit was at the time when Lafayette was
the nation's guest ; he treated this uncultured woman
with the greatest attention and respect. He had
tasted her hospitality at the Hermitage, and seen her
sweetness and beneficence to all about her.

ISO MRS. JACKSON.
It seemed impossible for her to catch a grace from
contact with refined society.
Once, when an army officer was visiting the gen
eral, she sat down by his side with her corn-cob pipe,
after taking a few whiffs, passed it, and said,
"Honey, won't you take a smoke.*'"
She had always been opposed to her husband's
holding office, and had left the Hermitage with bitter
regret ; the pleasure of the return was only alloyed
by the general's disappointment.
In 1828, Jackson was again a nominee for the
presidency, and never was there so bitter a contest.
Now, Mrs. Jackson began to reap the fruits of her
early indiscretion.
Every paper of the opposition was crowded with
the events of Jackson's life. The shooting of
Dickinson and his military executions were called
murders. The paragraph which preceded all others,
headed by the largest capitals, was, " Marriage Be
fore Divorce."
Mrs. Jackson had long had an affection of the
heart, and exciteraent brought on spasms. That her
good name should be trailed in the mire, that, by
any act of hers, her adored husband should be
taunted with shame, increased her malady to an
alarming degree. She said nothing, but her face
bore traces of tears and suffering. When the con
test was over, she said, " I am glad for Mr. Jacksoii ;

MRS. JACKSON. 151
for myself, I never wished it." She shrank from the
life in the White House more than ever. Her hus
band had tried to keep every abusive line from her
sight and, now that the election was settled, hoped
the subject o'f " marriage before divorce" would be
dropped, and all would be weH.
In December, after a day's shopping in town, she
was resting at a hotel, waiting for her carriage, —
two women sat in the next room ; one told the other
the story of the twice-repeated marriage of the
President-elect. It was told in coarse language, with
abusive epithets and cruel exaggeration.
"An adulteress — a bigamist ! "
The words burned into her very soul. The ex
citement brought on the terrible pain. For sixty
hours she lay writhing in agony, struggling for
breath. Jackson never left her side.
On the twenty-third, the towns-people were to give
a grand dinner, in honor of the general's success.
Mrs. Jackson reraerabered it, and at the first
moment of ease and recovered breath she spoke of
it and begged him to leave her and take sorae rest.
He kissed and bade her good night In a few
moraents there was a long, low cry, — he sprang to
her side, but the " raortal had put on iramortality."
He would not believe it, would have her bled ; as
no blood flowed, ordered one to try her teraple, stood
over her, rubbed her. When told that all had been

152 MRS. JACKSON.
done that could be done, and she must be prepared
for burial, he asked one to spread raany blankets,
pathetically saying, " If she do come to, she will lie
so hard."
All night he sat by her side, looking into her
face, feeling her heart and pulse. All the next day
it was the same; he only took a little coffee brought
by loving hands. At times he would snatch the
body in his arras and hold it tightly to his bosom
until pitying friends forced it from his embrace.
The table for the triumphant banquet was well
nigh spread, when a messenger from the Hermitage
rode into town, changing joy into mourning.
Nashville ladies arrayed the body for burial in
the white satin prepared for the inaugural ball, with
kid gloves and slippers. Pearl necklace and ear
rings were the finishing touch, but these were re
moved at the request of a niece.
Mrs. Jackson was buried at the foot of the Her
mitage garden ; the General, too exhausted to walk,
was supported by his friends. The house and farm
servants were all present, shrieking and giving way
to the raost demonstrative grief. Such a scene was
said to have never never been witnessed.
Jackson inscribed on her tablet : " Her face was
fair, her person pleasing, her temper amiable, her heart
kind. ... A being so gentle and so virtuous, slander
might wound but could not dishonor. Even death.

MRS. JACKSON. 1 53
when he tore her from the arms of her husband,
could but transport her to the bosora of her God."
Araid the grief felt for this truly good woraan,
there was a sense of relief that she was never to
preside over the Executive Mansion.
Her death wrought a change in Jackson, at least
he did not swear any raore ; only under intense ex^
eitement and extrerae provocation the " by the
Eternal " would soraetiraes slip out. He went to
church, read his Bible, and said his prayers before
his wife's picture, as the Catholics do before the
Virgin, avowing if she weren't in Heaven, he didn't
wish to go there.
The inauguration was unlike any that had pre
ceded it. The President-elect rode to the Capitol
on his own favorite horse, surrounded by the mili
tary, bands playing and artHlery booraing. The
debut into the Executive Mansion was made, at
tended by a motley crowd, which soon became a
noisy mob. Barrels of punch had been provided,
were drained to the lees, and the glasses smashed,
the scene ending in a disgraceful, drunken row ;
even the person of the President had to be protected
from the mob by his friends.
If Jackson were bowed with grief and had "aged
twenty years in a night," his spirit for managing
the affairs of the nation was not all impaired, and
he entered upon his duties with such vigor and

154 MRS. JACKSON.
determination that he alarmed his foes and amazed
his friends, who seemed to think, as Webster said,
that the country was rescued from some dreadful
danger. He deemed it to be his first duty to ferret out and
take vengeance, by political decapitation, upon all,
who had spoken against his wife ; the next, upon .
those who had actively differed from himself, or
had doubted his policy in Florida ; when these two
sweet morsels were well rolled under his tongue, he
made a clean sweep of all the office-holders left, for
the benefit of his friends and his wife's relatives —
simply "rotation in office" — "to the victor belong
the spoils," said the recipients of his bounty.
The tariff, at first distasteful to the South, was fast
becoming an abomination ; the North was more
prosperous, and she took the ground that she was
assisting it to be so at her own expense.
South Carolina didn't say this time that she was
going to blot out her star and sit outside of the
Union ; oh no, she was simply going to refuse to
obey one of the laws of the United States, which
worked unfavorably for her section, the President
was a Southern man and would naturally be mindful
of Southern interests, and of course the law would
be repealed.
The first insight South Carolina obtained of the
President's leaning was by an ominous toast given

MRS. JACKSON. I 55
for a dinner celebrating Jefferson's birthday : " The
Federal Union — it must be preserved." He gave
it raore significance by saying " raust and shall."
His shall and shan't were so vigorously backed up,
that the words had raore than an ordinary meaning,
but the ' shall ' this time was omitted for the press.
The legislature of South Carolina convened and
put her decision before the country by passing an
ordinance declaring the tariff null and void, em
phasizing it by little threats, which played around
Jackson's political horizon as harmlessly as heat
lightning on a summer's evening.
The governor endorsed the legislature, and the
first day of F"ebruary was the time when obedience
was to end, and if need were, resistance to begin.
He made an address full of high-sounding words,
claiming that the laws of the state were paramount
for her citizens ; talked loudly of the footsteps of
invaders, — of the sacred sofl, stained by the blood of
her sons. If other states stood aloof in enforcing
" reform," South Carolina would proudly stand
" alone." " Given a fair field," she would defy the
majesty of the United States ; if she should succeed
in this Herculean scheme, hers would be "glory
enough," and if she faHed, the " entire South, nay,
the whole Union " would "attest her virtues."
Volunteers sprang to arms, ready to march at a
moment's notice. The women were as full of en-

156 MRS. JACKSON.
thusiasm as Southern women usually are in time of
war. Husbands and lovers wore blue cockades
adorned by palmetto buttons made and pinned on
by their fair fingers, — its mate worn upon their own
bosoms. In the early stage, the President had, apparently,
calmly noted events, saying in his homely phrase
ology, "If this go on, our country wiH be like a bag
of meal, with both ends open. Pick it up in the
middle, or endwise, it wHl run out." However,
many a secret order had he given, and the military
and naval force of the country were stationed at
the South and prepared for celerity of movement.
By the middle of January, the treasonable proc
lamation of South Carolina's governor reached
Washington, wit'n additional particulars. The sons
of the " sacred soil," had gone so far as to strike off
medals, inscribed with the name of John Catiline
Calhoun, as "first president of the Southern Con
federacy." A flag was designed and ready to be
flung to the breeze ; they had hung the United
States' flag with the stars downward, hoping, perhaps,
that they would fall away, as the meal frora the bag.
Calhoun had resigned the vice-presidency to take
a seat in the senate. A few weeks before he had
come from South Carolina, and his journey has been
likened to that of Luther's to the Diet of Worms.
Could he, would he t-ake the oath to support the

MRS. JACKSON. I 57
Constitution of the United States, was the question
of the day. " The floor of the senate chamber and
the galleries were thronged with spectators. They
saw him take the oath with a solemnity and dignity
appropriate to the occasion, and then calmly seat
himself on the right of the chair, among his old
political friends, nearly all of whom were now
arrayed against him."
Only traitors did Andrew Jackson hate worse
than the British. He had suspected Calhoun, and
now he was sure that the arch-nullifier was bent on
mischief. He resolved and openly avowed that at
the first act of resistance to law in South Carolina,
he should be taken as prisoner of State and tried for
treason, — indeed every member of Congress from
that state was to be held responsible.
Jackson issued a proclamation and asked from
Congress an enlargement of the executive power,
which was granted by a bill called the Force Bill; —
by South Carolina, the Bloody Bill. The first day of
February came and went, duties were collected,
blood wasn't spilled and guns weren't fired. Is
anybody frightened ? was asked. Some said Cal
houn was, and others said that the enthusiastic rally
round Jackson convinced hira that nullification, as
well as secession, would be met by force, and force
sufficient to make it on the winning side.
Twelve days of excitement and expectancy went

158 MRS. JACKSON.
by and South Carolina wasn't quite stire on what
day nullification would practically begin.
The President in his message had suggested a
modification of the tariff, and Henry Clay, who was
always tinkering at the cracks in the Union, brought
forward his faraous Compromise Bill, offering a
gradual reduction of the tariff. It was an easy way
out of the difficulty, but there was an amendment
tacked on to it by those in the manufacturing in
terest, making provision for home valuation, which
made it very humiliating for the Calhoun party to
vote for it.
The opposition insisted that they should, lest in
tirae they might repudiate it ; they still held off, and
the Protectionists threatened to defeat the measure.
Clayton of Delaware said : " If they cannot vote for
a bill to save their necks from a halter, their necks
may stretch." The bill with the amendment did
finally pass supported by the nullifiers, and South
Carolina repealed her ordinance.
From the beginning of his administration, Jackson
had had a prejudice against the United States Bank.
The more attention he paid to it, the worse he
thought it to be ; believed it was insolvent, believed
it was a political machine-; thought "credit, critne;
and banking, robberj'," and he resolved to remove
the public deposits. There was a tremendous oppo
sition.

MRS. JACKSON. ' 1 59
To-day, the measure is thought to have been a
wise one, but as there was no organized plan for the
management of the government finances, it occa
sioned great distress and a financial panic. Jackson
was assailed on all sides. Clay called the measure
an "open, palpable, and daring usurpation." Cal
houn said worse things and Webster opposed, but
more temperately. Petitions and memorials were
sent Jackson frora all parts of the Union. To one
deputation he said, " If the people send ten thou
sand memorials, signed by all the men, women, and
children in the land, and bearing the names of all
on the gravestones, I will not relax a particle frora
my position."
Clay offered a vote of censure, which the Senate
approved, but the undaunted President stood by his
colors and declared himself to be the " direct repre
sentative of the American people." One of the
cabinet said there was " no Secretary of State, no
Senate, no anybody save Andrew Jackson." So he
went on, in his ignorant, hot-headed way, and sowed
the seeds of the terrible disaster which came later,
and thousands upon thousands lost their all, and thc
working classes, left without employment, were
reduced to absolute beggary.
Benton worked, as if it were the object for which
he was born, to expunge from the record of the Sen
ate, the vote of censure against Andrew Jackson.

l60 MRS. JACKSON.
It was finally done by a vote of twenty-four to nine
teen, and broad black lines were drawn around it, as
if it were put into mourning for ever being written.
" Expunged by order of the Senate, this sixteenth
day of January, in the year of our Lord, 1837," was
written across it.
" The gratification of the President was extreme,"
and "he gave a grand dinner to the expungers and
their wives."
Another difficulty loomed up in this stormy
adrainistration. In the settlement with Napoleon
for injuries done to Araerican shipping, a large
indemnity had been claimed, and the justice of
it admitted by the French, but the araount was
never settled and the claim had never been
pushed. Jackson had paid his own debts by selling prop
erty at a sacrifice, and he meant that individuails and
nations with whom he had to deal should pay theirs.
He pushed these claims so vigorously that Loui-s
Philippe arranged a treaty by which five million
doHars were to be paid in six instalments, and the
dates of payment fixed. Pay day came, but no
money ; the plea was that no appropriation had
been made by the French Chambers. A larae
excuse to offer Andrew Jackson ! His Irish blood
was up, and in his annual raessage he blazed away
about passing a law authorizing " reprisals " upon

MRS. JACKSON. l6l
French property, if the money were not forthcoming,
toute stiite.
Debtors often mount high horses, if creditors
under the pressure of their wrongs are a little
savage,. The French took the ground that they
had been wantonly insulted, that the message was
almost an open declaration of war. They weren't
to be coerced into honesty, they wouldn't pay at all,
— withdrew their minister and sent home ours.
They little knew with whom they had to deal !
Jackson and Clay were bitter enemies, but Clay
was a patriot, and with his silvery-toned eloquence
and conciliatory way of putting things, he some
what appeased the French frenzy, and they went
so far as to say that the claim should be paid at
once, if an apology were offered for the threats
which had been made. Jackson would sooner have
been drawn in quarters than have raade one, but he
was persuaded to say that his message was not
meant as a " menace," but there was no abatement
of deterraination or tone that the raoney should be
paid, come what might. He urged an increase of
the navy and the corapletion of all the coast de
fences, and for once the opposition gave him sup
port. Things looked more warlike than ever.
England, who had helped us into the difficulty,
interposed with her good offices to help us out by
mediation. Jackson blandly accepted, but emphati-

l62 MRS. JACKSON.
caily assured thera, they need listen to no over
tures, which included an apology. His incidental
expression that his words were not meant for a
" menace " was graciously twisted by the French
into a sufficient apology. The money was paid,
four instalments in one.
Three years before, when the first payment was
expected, commissioners had been appointed to
divide it among the claimants, but when it was
really paid in quadruple quantity. Congress dropped
it into the treasury as if it were government raoney.
Now and then the heirs of the claimants lift up their
voices, but, as Sumner said, the French claims are
likely to become immortal.
The last of the Indian wars came in Jackson's
administration ; one was called the Black Hawk
War, in which the famous chief was captured,
and held as a hostage. He was taken through the
principal cities of the United Stdtes, imprisoned at
Fortress Monroe, and at the end of a year allowed
to rejoin his tribe; the other was with the Seminoles,
headed by the half-breed Osceola, who was defeated
and his power broken, at Okeechobee. He after
wards visited the carap of General Jessup under a
flag of truce, was seized, and sent to Fort Moultrie,
where he died the following year.
One of Jackson's pet hobbies was the payment of
the public debt. Year by year he reduced it, even

MRS. JACKSON. 1 63
curtailing public improvements for the purpose.
Money poured into the treasury from the sale of the
public lands, and when the last dollar of the debt
was paid, there was still a surplus, which was divided
among the States.
Mrs. Jackson had a very beautiful niece, called
the Flower of Tennessee, who married her cousin
Andrew Jackson Donelson. Jackson took the pair
to the White House, one as private secretary, the
other as hostess. Her grace, polish, tact, and wit,
restored some of the splendor of Queen Dolly's day.
There had been a political outcry over the palatial
style of the Executive Mansion under John Quincy
Adams, but a large sum had been appropriated for
its refurnishing at the incoming of his successor.
The East Room was more elegantly fitted than ever.
The four marble mantelpieces, surmounted by mir
rors, seen there to-day, were put in at that time.
General Jackson kept up the same profuse hospi
tality to which he had been accustomed at the
Hermitage, and, like Jefferson, had to draw largely
upon his private means to meet his expenses.
Horse-racing and cock-fighting had been his favorite
amusements at home. Horses and cocks were
brought to Washington to enter the lists. Either
the confinement, the journey, or change injured
them to such a degree, that they were never on
the winning side, and the General lost large sums of

164 MRS. J4CKSON.
money, also his devotees, whose bets were always in
favor of his cocks and horses.
To his great satisfaction, his son married a Phila
delphia lady, and brought his bride to the White
House. There was a question upon whom the hon
ors of lady of the house should rest. The President
settled it, by saying to his daughter-in-law : " My
dear, you are mistress of my horae, but Emily (Mrs.
Donelson) is hostess in the White House." Two
marriages were celebrated in the White House, —
his wife's niece. Miss Euston, to Mr. Polk, of Tennes
see, and the daughter of his friend. Major Lewis, to
M; Paqueot, of Martinique, afterwards French minis
ter to the United States.
In the second term, the health of Mrs. Donelson
failed, and she went to Tennessee, hoping her native
air would restore it, but she was stamped with con
sumption and died in a few months, leaving several
children. For a short time Mrs. Jackson presided at the
White House, but she was a commonplace woman,
and left no stamp upon it.
General Jackson had adopted Martin Van Biiren as
heir apparent, and, as usual, the people endorsed him.
On the day of the inauguration the pair rode from
the Executive Mansion to the Capitol in a phaeton,
made from thc wood of the frigate " Constitution,"
drawn by four gray horses. The phaeton was a gift

MRS. JACKSON. 1 65
to General Jackson, and was taken to the " Hermi
tage." He reraained four days a guest of Van Buren,
and then by slow and easy stages returned to his
home. He found his priyate affairs involved, and every
thing out of repair ; at once he sold a part of his
estate, and, as he said, began the new year free
from debt. As his property was invested in land
and negroes, the coramercial distress, which he had
brought upon the country, passed over him lightly ;
he even had no sympathy for the sufferers, coolly
saying, "no one faHed who ought not to have failed."
Years later, his son entered into business rela
tions, which resulted in heavy loss and failure. The
General assumed the debts, which brought hira to.
the verge of ruin. He bent his pride so far as to
ask a loan frora a friend, — the loan would have been
a gift, could he have been prevailed upon to have it
so ; but before he made his reqtiest, he raade provi
sion for payment.
In defending New Orleans, he had illegally ar
rested a judge and bidden defiance to a writ of habeas
corpus, for which he had been fined one thousand
dollars, and promptly paid. When the story of his
embarrassments was noised abroad, a bHl for refund
ing the money with interest was introduced in Con
gress. The biH barely passed the Senate, but the
House gave it a large majority, — even Calhoun voted

»

1 66 MRS. JACKSON.
for it. The money, which had nearly tripled, was
nothing to the old veteran in comparison with his
satisfaction in what he called an endorsement of his
action. No man ever more ardently wished for pos
thumous fame, and now he felt that even the shadow
of blame was lifted from his career, and he could say,
" nunc dimittis."
A curious gift was presented him in the last year
of his life. A commodore coming frora the East had
secured a sarcophagus, which was believed to have
held the body of Alexander Severus, and believing
Jackson the equal of the magnificent old Roman em
peror, he tendered it to him for his final resting-
place. It was declined with thanks. Had he cared for an
emperor's coffin, it seemed Hke disloyalty to his wife,
to be royally entombed by her side.
Andrew Jackson was not one to combine religion
with politics, but he had proraised his wife that when
he was through with one, he would take up the other.
He fulfiHed his promise, and in her church enroHed
himself as Christ's faithful soldier. Sins of commis
sion never troubled him, but the omission of hanging
Calhoun he thought the mistake of his life, and he
would often express his belief that had he done it
posterity would pronounce it the best act of his life.
He kept the pistol with which he shot Dickinson
upon the mantelpiece in his own room, as if it were

MRS. JACKSON. 1 67
some glorious trophy, and if one looked at it would
coolly explain the service it had done.
His last illness was very long and very distressing,
but the irascible old man bore it with patience that
was called sublime.
He died in 1845, aged seventy-eight.
Andrew Jackson, the son, inherited the entire es
tate by the will of his father, but he went on with his
ruinous speculations and died insolvent, leaving his
wife penniless.
The " Hermitage " was bought by the State of
Tennessee, in 1856, and Mrs. Jackson was gener
ously offered the use of it during her life.
August 24th, 1887, the foHowing notice appeared
in the NashviHe papers , —
" Mrs. Sarah Jackson, wife of Andrew Jackson, Jr.,
and mistress of the White House during President
Jackson's second term, died at the ' Hermitage,' yes
terday, aged 81 years."

MRS. VAN BUREN.
In the little village of Kinderhook, New York,
'just at the close of the Revolutionary War, were
born in the same year, two children, both of Dutch
parentage. They played together, went to the same
school, shared the same pursuits. The boy from his
earliest years loved his delicate little companion,
and as he grew to man's estate the love strength
ened. He was no child of fortune, but one obliged to
make his own way,, — the son of a farmer and tavern-
keeper in Kinderhook. The viHage derived its name
from the Dutch saHors who first sailed up the Hud
son. They were amused by the antics of some
Indian children, playing about a little headland. On
their return, they pointed towards the place, saying :
"There is the kinder's hook." Kinder in Dutch
means children, and hook, point. Some- of the
sailors carae back with their families and settled
there, and the place never lost the narae.
At fourteen, the innkeeper's boy was apprenticed to
the village lawyer for seven years. When six were
ended, he was allowed to go to New York, and in
168

MRS. VAN BUREN. 1 69
the office of Van Ness, — famed in after years as the
second of Burr, in his duel with Hariiilton, — he
rounded out his seventh year, went back to his
village home, and opened an office.
Markedly handsome, cordial in his manner, with
shining- abilities, and a temper that nothing could
ruffle, he won his way to competency.
When twenty-five, he asked the girl whom he had
been wooing all his life to becorae his wife, and Miss
Hannah Hoes became Mrs. :Martin Van Buren.
After ten prosperous, happy years, when four fine
boys filled the nursery, the wife drooped and fell a
victim to consuraption.
Years after, when Van Buren had becorae famous,
and the world sought to know something of his early
life, and that of his dead wife, little could be learned
of her, save that she was shy and retiring, scarcely
known out of her own home, except among the poor,
in whose hearts she lived, long after she was forgot
ten by her own social circle.
Van Buren filled the offices - of State Senator,
Attorney-General, and United States Senator, — the
latter he resigned upon being chosen Governor of
New York. He had become a politician, so .skilful
and sagacious that he was called the " Little Magi
cian." It was he who pulled the wires which placed
Jackson at the head of the nation. Jackson rewarded
his labors by appointing him Secretary of State.

170 MRS. VAN BUREN. .
At the outset of the administration there was one
of the strangest difficulties which ever disturbed the
ffovernraent of a nation, and led to the most astonish-
ing results, — broke up the cabinet, politically ruined
Calhoun, brought F. P. Blair to prominence, and
made Van Buren President, indeed, is said to have
changed American history.
General Jackson had appointed Major Eaton, a
neighbor and warm friend of his, to a place in his
cabinet. Eaton had married the widow of Purser
Timberlake, who committed suicide while on service
in the Mediterranean.
The woman was the daughter of an Irishman, WH-
liam O'NeH, the keeper of an old-fashioned tavern in
Washington, where the merabers of Congress board
ed. Witty, pretty, and saucy, the girl, called Peg
O'Neil, waited and tended upon her father's guests.
It is hardly strange that, amid such surroundings,
such a girl should become somewhat loose and too
vivacious in her manners — her matchless beauty
and wonderful grace turned the heads of half the
men in Washington. The fastidious, aristocratic
Pinckney, dedicated a poem to her, which has often
since been quoted, when one would offer incense to
a fair woman, — beginning, —
" I fill this cup to one made up ,
Of loveliness alone,
A woman of her gentle sex
The seeming paragon ;

MRS. VAN BUREN. I7I
" To whom the better elements
And kindly stars have given
A form so fair that, like the air,
'Tis less of earth than heaven.''
In her gay, innocent girlhood, Mrs. Madison once
crowned Her ^.t a public ball as " the prettiest girl in
Washington." In both her marriages there had been some irreg
ularities, or rather floating stories to that effect,
which had sullied her good name.
As soon as she knew she was a widow, she mar
ried Major Eaton ; it was a gay wedding, attended
by the President, Vice-President Calhoun, half the
raerabers of Congress, with a sprinkling of the dis
tinguished of the army and navy, though but a sraall
nuraber vvere accompanied by their wives.
The- wedding bells had rung, and Mrs. Eaton was
one of the ladies of the cabinet, crime de la crime of
society. The ladies were in dismay ; perhaps the
charms of the bride and the open admiration of their
husbands influenced them more than they would
have adraittecl ; they raet and talked the situation
over, the decision was that she should never be
recognized as one of their sacred circle, and the
wives of the foreign rainisters were bound to be
equally iraraaculate in their social status.
General Jackson's grief for his own wife, killed by
scandal, was in its first fresh bitterness. His strong
feelings were enlisted, and he placed himself on the

172 MRS. VAN BUREN.
side of this ostracised woman. He employed men to
trace the foul stories to their source, even sent one to
New York, wrote with his own hand letters enough
to make a volume, and disproved every tale and ri,imor
to his own satisifaction. Never had woman a more
zealous advocate than this old soldier, never con
quered until he sought to bend woman to his will.
He found circumventing Indians and mowing down
the British had been an easier task.
When Jackson's own clergyman cast a stone at
his favorite, he taught hira Bible doctrine in very
plain words, left the church, and never entered it
again. *He called a cabinet meeting, not to discuss
national affairs, but to demand of the members that
their wives, should call on this woman. One sa:id :
"You seem to labor under a misapprehension, Mr.
President, as to who is general in my family."
He bade his niece call on Mrs. Eaton. She would
receive her as any other guest who carae to the
White House, but she was firm in her refusal of not
visiting her in her own home. He intiraated that if
that were her decision, she had better go horae to
Tennessee, and to Tennessee she went, followed by
her husband. The old man's heart yearned for
those he called the children of his dead wife, and
in six months they were recalled.
For two years this unseemly, undignified quarrel
raged. Qffice-seSkers, whose name was legion.

MRS. VAN BUREN. 1 73
were advised that the surest way of winning success
was to be on the visiting list of Mrs. Eaton ; the
raen carae unaccompanied by their wives, and of
course made no difficulty.
Mr. Van Buren, having neither wife nor daughter,
was profuse in his attentions, and treated her with
every mark of respect. The English and Russian
ministers were bachelors and quite willing to assist
the Secretary of State in floating " BeHona," as Mrs.
Eaton was called by the press.
After Mr. Van Buren had given a dinner and
party in her honor, the British minister gave a ball
and supper. If she were led upon the floor, the
dancers, without marked rudeness, seemed to form
a dissolving view. The host took her in to supper,
and, as if she were the most distinguished guest,
placed her at the head of his table. The ladies
were more blind than those born blind — the kind
that wouldn't see. Their power of ignoring the
woman was a marvel to the men.
The minister of England had been outwitted. A,
Baron of Russia stepped to the front, with plans so
weH laid that it was thought they could not go awry.
" The best laid schemes o' mice an' men.
Gang aft agley."
How little they knew of the mood of woman when
she won't !
The night of the ball came, the unwedded gen-

174 MRS. VAN BUREN.
tlemen paid court to Mrs. Eaton through the dan
cing, not leading her upon the floor. The supper was
to be the grand piece of diplomacy. Only ladies sat.
The wife of the ambassador of Holland was high
bred, markedly courteous and affable. At the re
quest of the Baron, Major Eaton offered her his
arm. She instinctively drew back, but the pained
look on his face softened her to an acceptance. He
led her to a seat beside his wife. The woman was
no dupe, though courtesy might veil her acuteness.
She turned, took her husband's arm, and left the
room. The Dutch shared not the festive board of
the Russian that night.
Mrs. Eaton related her evening's experience to
Jackson and he was like a roaring lion. The influ
ence of his wife was more potent than when she
was living, and he repressed the oaths in which he
had once been so voluble, even " by the Eternal "
slipped out only in unguarded moments, but he
threatened to send the pair to Holland, as he had
sent his children to Tennessee.
He would give a grand dinner hiraself, and wives
of ministers at home and ministers from abroad -^^
wives of all the dignitaries of Washington should
see what lady the head of the nation, the idol of the
American people, delighted to honor.
The seat at his right hand was reserved, and
thither the English minister led Mrs. Eaton. Gen-

MRS. VAN BUREN. 1 75
eral Jackson threw into his manner all the deference
he had been wont to show his wife, thereby thinking
to teach his guests what he expected from them.
Dinner over, they retired to the coffee-room, where
the repartee and gay laugh went round — no lack of
gayety and social abandon.
However, the eyesight of the ladies had not ira
proved. Had Mrs. Jackson been so treated, she
would have kept, broken-hearted, within the recesses
of her own home. This was, not the way of Mrs.
Eaton, ttie O'NeH. To Major Eaton, life was a
burden. An anonymous letter told him that he
was to be roasted, broiled, and baked, and he felt
that it was literally being done.
Woman's will had proved as strong as Jackson's,
and he too resolved upon a dissolving view. The
cabinet were all dismissed. Clay caHed it a cleans
ing of the Augean stable. Such a thing had never
happened before, and in the political world it seemed
as if the heavens had fallen.
Those who had bowed before the shrine of her
whora Webster called the " Aaron's serpent of the
President's desires," were to be provided with places
of honor. In the recess of Congress, Matty, as
Jackson fondly called his favorite, was appointed
rainister to the Court of St. Jaraes. Like the King
of France, he went iip the hill and soon came down
again.

176 MRS. VAN BUREN.
Calhoun, Webster, and Clay were men of might,
and at the opening of Congress united their
strength against the confirraation. On the even
ing of the day that the London papers proclairaed
Van Buren's rejection in flaming capitals, Talleyrand
gave a crowded party; he was a guest, as urbane
and dignified as if "rejected" by the Senate had
read "confirmed."
Calhoun, vi^ho hated him, said to a friend, who
doubted the wisdom of the recall, " It will kill him,
sir, kHl him dead. He will never kick, sir, never
kiek." This from the astute Calhoun ! It was the
petard which tossed him high on the ladder/ of
political fame, and four years later into the seat,
which each of the Titan trio was ambitious to fill.
Vice-President, President, and Peg O'Neil had
been the ace of trumps in the game which had been
played. Major Eaton was sent first to Florida, and, later,
minister to Spain, where he remained four years, —
happy years for Mrs. Eaton, who led there a brilliant,
irreproachable life. Soon after their return, Major
Eaton died, leaving her all his fortune, which she lost
by foolishly marrying, at the age of sixty, an Italian
music teacher of twenty-one, who eloped with one
of her daughters. She transmitted her marvellous
beauty, grace, and fascinations ; one daughter mar
ried Dr. Randolph, of Virginia ; another, the Duke de

MRS. VAN BUREN. 177
Sampayo in Paris ; and a granddaughter, the Baron
de Rothschild, of Austria. This remarkable woraan
died in 1879, at the age of eighty-three, saying at the
last, "I am not afraid, but this is such a. beautiful
world." After Van Buren's inauguration. General Jackson
was the first to shake hands and offer hira cordial
congratulations. As the pair rode away, the cheers
were for " Old Hickory," who had risen from a sick
bed, against the advice of his physician, that he
might grace the triumph of his favorite ; a smile
of satisfaction lit up his hard, worn features, as
bareheaded, leaning upon his cane, holding in his
hand his white fur hat, crape bound, he bowed
right and left, in acknowledgment of the honors
paid him. The old hero went out of office sur
rounded with a halo of glory.
The journey to Washington was easier, and made
in less time than ever before ; crowds from every
state had poured into the city, rather to see the set
ting than the rising sun. Food of the best, rich
wines, and punch were abundantly provided, but not
a bed upon which to lay one's head, — that is, not to
exaggerate, there were raore heads than beds.
A cry for thera went up, as strong as King Rich
ard's when he needed a horse. The floor of the
marketplace was covered with raen, having little more
than a wisp of straw for a pillow. Boston guests

178 MRS. VAN BUREN.
paid fabulous prices for barbers'- chairs, and even
took thera, turn about.
The reception was nearly as disorderly as the one
eight years before, when " Old Hickory " was roped
in, by the linking of his friends into one solid raass,
for the protection of his person. Fortunately, the
diplomatic corps came later and by themselves, in
their court dresses. Van Buren, born with an intuir
tive sense of knowing when to smHe and when to re
frain from smiling, when to remain silent, and if
words were to be spoken the proper ones to use, was
said to have made the only lapsus linguce of his life ;
could he have chosen, he would have sooner made it
in any other presence. In answering the congratu^
latory speech presented by their dean, he addressed
them as the "democratic corps;" to make matters
worse, his attention was called to it, and he had to
say what he did mean.
The first year of Van Buren's administration was
gloomy, both socially and politically. The Executive
Mansion was without a mistress: Jackson's igno
rance and lack of statesmanship had brought upon
the country a financial panic, which convulsed the
nation. Business men and states were bankrupt, — -
even the United States governraent could not pay
its debts, — a state of affairs which would have sofely
tried the stoutest heart and strongest mind, but the
new President met them with an undaunted front.

MRS. VAN BUREN. 1 79
which surprised his enemies, who had never thought
the smooth, courteous gentleraan to be a man of
courage. The removal of the deposits, without any organ
ized plan of what should come after had brought all
these evils upon the land, and such statesmen as
Webster and Clay could find no panacea but restor
ing them. Van Buren was firm in his purpose of
treading in the footsteps of his predecessor, — there
was to be no step backward.
The distribution of the surplus revenue, the con
tests over the Sub-Treasury BHl and other relief
measures, urged by the President, kept the country
in a ferment, and made a wordy war on the floor of
Congress. Three instalments of the surplus had been paid
the states ; when the fourth and last became due,
the President proposed to withhold it. Further, he
declined to go, on the ground that it was not the
office of government to relieve the people from finan
cial embarrassments, or to negotiate foreign and do
mestic exchanges.
The financial misery and gloom of the people,
which was the legacy of Jackson, warred against his
popularity from the first, and already there was an
outlook for, and the discussion of a successor.
Few of the presidents have lived through their
term of office without some sort of an imbroglio with

l80 MRS. VA,N BtjREN.
England, and Van Buren's |was no exception to the
rule, — Lilliputian, to be sure, but it made an excite
ment at the tirae.
The Canadians had revolted and raised the stand
ard of rebellion against England. The Araerican
people knew what mercy, power, and justice meant
when wielded by British statesmen, and the sympathy
of those on the frontiers was stirred to assist in what
was called the " Patriot War." They were ready to
enlist as volunteers, and to contribute of their sub
stance. The President was prompt, — said, hands
off, and sent General Scott to enforce obedience ;
warned them there would be no protection of the
United States government to any who aided the
Canadians. A motley company of adventurers as
sembled at Navy Island in Niagara River, hired a
steamer, called the " Caroline," to convey their gifts
of arms and provisions. Colonel, afterward Sir Al
lan McNabb won his spurs in this single and almost
bloodless campaign. He sent a boat expedition to
seize the " Caroline " at the old Schlosser dock. A
fight took place, and in the melde one American was
killed, but they were as stanch as the renowned
Lawrence in not giving up the ship.
The British conceived the bright idea of firing what
they could not capture. When it was one sheet of
flame and had burnt away its fastenings, it floated
away over Niagara Falls.

MRS. VAN feUREN. l8l
There were many tiffs in the northeast between
the people of Maine and those of New Brunswick
over their boundaries. Both sides threatened to take
up arms which would have brought on war ; they
confined themselves to threats during Van Buren's
reign, and it was an open question for his successor.
The inauguration of Van Buren was in the year
that the widowed Mrs. Madison returned to Wash
ington. Years and grief had not destroyed her
social charm ; she was still a leader of society, the
fascinating " Queen Dolly."
She had a young cousin, daughter of Hon. Richard
S. Singleton, belonging to the best of the blue blood
of South Carolina, who came to pass the season at
the capital. At Mrs. Madison's request. Van Buren
appointed a day to receive her and her guest. The
girl's intellect, rare beauty (handed down by Inman),
and varied accomplishments, at once made her a fa
vorite of the courtly President. He had taken pos
session of the White House accompanied only by his
four sons, but it was maintained with as much ele
gance and taste, as ever under any woman's sway.
He presided over the dinners and receptions with per
fect tact and politeness. His glass, china, and sHver-
ware surpassed anything that had ever been seen in
the country, and his gold-lined spoons gave him as
much obloquy among the opposition, as if he had
committed treason.

1 82 MRS. VAN BUREN.
Mr. Van Buren's eldest son, Abraham, a graduate
of West Point (had served as aide-de-camp to Gen
eral Worth) was his private secretary and constant
companion. Great was his satisfaction on being
asked by this young gentleman to receive Mrs.
Madison's charming relative as a daughter.
The next season, Miss Angelica Singleton was a
bride and the hostess of the .Executive Mansion.
Her youth and beauty, her tact, her graciousness, the
patience and pleasant courtesy, which never flagged
through the long hours, made her universally ad
mired. Traditions of her remind one of the fair
lady who now lends such a charm to the White
House, and sheds a lustre on the present adminis
tration. , In the spring, a bridal trip was taken to Europe.
Those Guelph meri, who had for so many years
disgraced the nation had passed away, and the
young Victoria (recently crowned), a maiden, under
the wing of her mother, was holding a gay court,
thronged by- distinguished' foreigners, among whom
was the Czar of Russia and the Prince of Orange.
Our Republican lady was a niece of the Araerican '
Minister, which, added to her position in the Presi
dent's family, gave her advantages and an entrance
into the court circle which no other Anierica.n lady
had ever enjoyed.
Her trip extended to Paris, where Louis Philippe

MRS. VAN BUREN. 1 83
and his queen received her into the home circle at
St. Cloud.
At the opening of Congress, she was again at her
post, and untH the close of the administration made
the Executive Mansion the centre of social elegance
and gayety.
Mr. Van Buren was a candidate for a second term,
and thought his election certain. For the first time,
his political insight was at fault.
The political poets sang, — ^
"Van, Van, Van, you are a used-up man."
And after all these years of successful, vaulting
ambition, it was even so.
It was custoraary for the city authorities to pass a
vote of thanks to the retiring President for the in
terest he had taken in the prosperity of the national
metropolis. The aldermen and common council fol
lowed the usual custom, but Mr. Van Buren, always
courteous in manner to his opponents, had neverthe
less excluded these from the hospitalities of the
Executive Mansion, and thus incijrred the indignation
of the mayor, who vetoed the corapliraentary resolu
tions and in his message gave his reasons for this
marked slight, which greatly annoyed the President.
Gracefully had he risen to power, but he took very
good care to have the White House ready for his
successor, and did not await his arrival or grace his
triumph.

184 MRS. VAN BUREN.
He retired to Lindenwald, his estate in the vHlage
where he was born, and had wooed and won his wife.
Twice, was he again the candidate for the office of
chief magistrate, but the people repudiated the man
under whose administration they had suffered such
bitter evils.
At the breaking out of the Civil War, Mr. Van
Buren had turned fourscore, but his heart beat as
strong for his country and the Union as in the days
when General Jackson stamped upon secession and
threatened to seize every senator from South Caro
lina upon the charge of treason. Before the strife
was ended, he had finished the battle of life, and
rested by the side of the wife who had lain for
nearly half a century among the " dusty dead " in
the airy cemetery of Kinderhook, but had never lost
her place in the heart of her husband.

MRS. HARRISON.
Miss Anna Symmes, the daughter of a colonel
in the Continental array, was born near Morristown,
New Jersey, at, the beginning of the war of the
Revolution. Her birth was soon followed by the
death of her raother.
When the state becarae the battle-ground of the
two armies, Colonel Symmes was anxious for the
safety of his little motherless daughter, and desired
to place her with her mother's mother on Long Is
land, Long Island was held by the British, — a
disloyal citizen could not pass their lines, and were
an American officer caught there,, the penalty would
be death. He conceived the bold design of passing
in the disguise of a British uniform. It was a
perHous undertaking, but by pluck and boldness he
made it a success.
The little girl, then four years old, never forgot
the incidents of that journey. She was a sedate,
quiet child, and the training of her grandmother, a
convert and follower of Whitfield, made her still
more so.
In after years, when she presided as governor's
lady, when a home in the White House loomed
i8s

1 86 MRS. HARRISON.
before her, she would often say : " From my earliest
childhood, the frivolous amusements of youth had
no charm for me. If ever constrained to attend
places of fashionable amusement, it was to gratify
others, not myself."
By her grandmother she was taught industry,
order, truthfulness, prudence and economy, but with
out teaching, she was imbued with a love of God
and the desire to be a Christian, frora the example of
that grandmother's daily life.
Her years had doubled, and American Independ
ence was recognized by England, before she again
met her father, who had fought all through the war,
and bore an honored part. Arranging for his child
to have the best instruction New York City afforded,
he left her in the care of her grandparents until she
grew to womanhood.
In 1793, Colonel Symmes led a company of
pioneers from New Jersey to the banks of the Ohio,
to build a town and live a frontier life. A year later
he came to New York, married the daughter of
Governor Livingston, and in the early auturan took
his bride and daughter, just turned eighteen, to
make a horae in the new settleraent. It was a long
and dangerous journey, and the New Year had come
before it was brought to a close.
Miss Anna had a married sister in Kentucky,
upon whom she made frequent visits. Among her

MRS. HARRISON. 1 87
sister's guests was a young captain in the United
States army, who was at once attracted by the
pretty face and modest, gentle manners of the young
girl. It is evident that the attraction was rautual,
for in November of this same year the pair were
married in her father's house.
The young captain was the son of Benjamin
Harrison, a Virginia grandee, an intimate friend of
Washington, who travelled with hira to Philadelphia
after the news of Concord and Lexington, a signer
of the Declaration of Independence, a member of
the first Continental Congress, and Governor of the
State. He was a man of immense size, great
strength, and full of fun.
At the time of the signing of the Declaration of
Independence, there was, as a rule, great solemnity.
Each man felt as he signed the document that his
name was a gage thrown down to the King of
England, which he must make good, or by a halter
die the death of a traitor. Franklin could joke,
and allay the excitement and chagrin of Jefferson,
as the paper he had drawn up was sifted, praised,
condemned, cut down, and finally signed.
When Charles Carroll signed, one said: "You are
safe, Carroll, there are so many of that name." But
he promptly turned back and added "of Carrollton,,"
which would stamp him, if the cause were lost, and
he was a man of immense fortune.

1 88 MRS. HARRISON.
Harrison often brought a- smile to the solemn-
faced members. When Elbridge Gerry, the slightest
among them, almost overcome by the magnitude of
the deed he was about fo do, took pen in hand, he
said : " Gerry, when the hanging comes, I shall have
the advantage, you'll kick in the air half an hour
after it is all over with me."
Most of the members signed on the Fourth, and
the Declaration was proclaimed at the State House
in Phdadelphia, amid loud acclamations, and notes
of Liberty pealed from the venerable bell on In
dependence Hall.
At the setting of the sun, the equestrian statue
of George the Third was laid prostrate on the
ground, and the lead of which it was made run into
buHets to shoot d'own His Majesty's troops. The
work which England called treason was con
summated. Harrison and Hancock 'were both candidates for
Speaker. The Virginian gracefully gave way to the
Bay State patriot, and, as Hancock modestly held
back, took him in his arms, carried him across the
hall and placed hira in the chair, amid the laughter
of the members, then turning said : " Gentlemen,
we wHl show Mother Britain how little we care for
her by making a Massachusetts man our President,
whora she has excluded from pardon by a public
proclamation."

MRS. HARRISON. 1 89
The son of this patriot, WHliam Henry Harrison,
was brought up amid wealth and social culture, and
had every advantage of education that the colonies
afforded. His father died while he was yet a lad,
and Robert Morris, the celebrated financier, was his
guardian, who placed him with the famous Dr. Rush
of PhHadelphia, for the study of medicine.
When he was nineteen, the frightful ravages upon
our northwestern frontier by the Indians fired the
heart of the boy with military ardor. Contrary to
the advice of instructor and guardian, he asked a
coramission of Washington, then President of the
United States, who gave him his hearty approval
and the rank of an ensign.
His first special duty was to take sorae pack-
horses through forty miles of wilderness. An old
frontier man said : " I would as soon have thought
of putting my wife into the service as this boy ; but
I have been out with him and find those smooth
cheeks are on a wise head, and that slight frarae is
alraost as tough as my own weatherbeaten carcass."
He rose to the rank of lieutenant and served under
Wayne, called " Mad Anthony," for his reckless
daring. Harrison-, for his bravery and prowess, was
made captain, and placed in coraraand of Fort Wash
ington. It was at this time, at the age of twenty-
two, that he married Miss Anna Symmes. Two
years later he resigned his comraand, and was ap-

190 MRS. HARRISON.
pointed lieutenant-governor of the Northwest Terri
tory. When the territory was entitled to a delegate
to Congress, he was chosen. His wife accorapanied
him to Washington, and it was what she called her
"bridal trip." She spent most of her tirae in visit
ing her husband's relatives in Virginia.
When but .twenty-seven, Harrison was appointed
by John Adams Governor of the Northwest Terri
tory ; re-appointed twice by Jefferson, and once by
Madison, ruHng for twelve years, a larger domain
than almost any sovereign in the world. He was
what the poet would have called " the noblest work
of God," an honest man. Never would he hold an
acre of land by a title coming from himself.
A foreigner once, accused him of defrauding the
Indians. He demanded an investigation in a court
of justice, was acquitted, and awarded four thousand
doHars, damages. One third, he gave to the orphans
of soldiers, and the remainder he returned to his
accuser. A landed proprietor offered him half the land
which now comprises St. Louis, if he would assist
in building up the place. He refused, lest it might
be said that he used his official station to promote
his private interests.
At a land sale the title was not valid on account
of sorae defective proceedings of the court, and the
property, soon worth millions, reverted to his wife.

MRS. HARRISON. I9I
With him honesty and justice were higher than law,
and he would have none of it.
The Northwest was full of Indians, whom our
sweet mother, England, burning with hatred, was
inciting by gifts of arms to raise the tomahawk
against the children whom she had driven from her
control. Among the warriors were two most extra
ordinary men of the class which has -thrown such a
halo of roraance around the aborigines of North
America. Tecumseh and Elks-tawa were twins ; the first
was truthful, generous, hospitable, handsome in
features, of a symmetrical, powerful frarae, digni
fied and defiant, witb the air of a king, and withal
the bravest of his tribe ; the other, a prophet and
orator, with an eloquence so vivid, that he could
sway the hearts of all the tribes on the war-path.
When Tecuraseh left carap to rouse the Southern
Indians to unite with the Northern, Harrison sur
prised the prophet, and by an overwhelming victory,
won the title of Tippecanoe, and secured safety to
the settlers on the banks of the Ohio.
He removed his own famHy to Cincinnati, but was
directly after appointed by Madison, comraander-in-
chief of the Northwestern army, with power almost
absolute. Mrs. Harrison was to be left alone for an uncer
tain period with a family of ten young children.

192 MRS. HARRISON.
Not only was there no repining, nor shrinking from
responsibHity, but a gathering in of the children of
friends and neighbors, several of whom were regular
inmates of her large family, that they might have
the benefit of the private tutor whom she always
eraployed. Hull had made his inglorious surrender at Detroit
when Harrison received his appointment; troops.
were to be raised and disciplined. Like Jackson,
he was troubled with short enlistments and men
clamoring to go home, but we hear of no court-
martial or military executions. He retook Detroit,
and somewhat redeemed the honor of the American
arms at the North.
Not harmonizing with the Secretary of War, he
resigned, bought the farm at North Bend, and was
at once chosen Representative to Congress. Here
he was accused of corruption ; he demanded a thor
ough investigation, and was not only acquitted, but
received the thanks of Congress and a gold medal.
John Quincy Adams, at the close of his adminis
tration, appointed him minister to the Republic of
Columbia. He had no sooner arrived there than he
was recalled by Jackson, who could never forget, that
when a vote of censure against himself was before
Congress, Harrison voted in its favor, though he
made a stirring speech in which he awarded full
glory and honor to the hero of New Orleans. On

MRS. HARRISON. 1 93
his return, he settled at his farm at North Bend,
accepting the office of clerk of the court of Hamilton
County, to eke out an income sufficient for the needs
of his numerous family.
In 1836, he was candidate for the presidency in
opposition to Mr. Van Buren. It was a great relief
to Mrs. Harrison that he was not elected. At no
time caring to stand in the -world's high places, she
cared less now, as she was weighted with sorrow.
During the life at North Bend she lost an infant,
seven children, grown and settled in life, and ten
grandchildren. As blow after blow fell, she would
repeat her favorite text, " Be stHl, and knovv that I
am God."
In these days, we should say that North Bend was
an unhealthy locality, or that the drainage was bad, and
refrain frora thinking that God had laid a heavy hand
upon them. A second time General Harrison was
the candidate in opposition to Mr. Van Buren.
Never was there a more spirited or exciting cam
paign. He, who was born, cradled, and reared among the
aristocrats of the land was taunted with having lived
in a "log-cabin" and drinking "hard cider." They
became the shibboleth of his party, and were in every
town and village drawn about with torchlight proces
sions, while people cheered and sang, " Tippecanoe
and Tyler, too."

194 MRS. HARRISON.
A favorite song was one which began with the fol
lowing verse, —
" Can grateful freemen slight his claims,
Who bravely did defend
Their lives and fortunes on the Thames,
The Farmer of North Bend ?
Chorus : The Farmer of North Bend, my boys,
The Farmer of North Bend,
We'll give a right good hearty vote
To the Farmer of North Bend."
The victory was won, but how barren the result ;
so little of Tippecanoe and " too " much of Tyler.
General Harrison was a well-bred, educated man ;
his conversation, letters, and speeches were always
well spiced with classical allusions, but he had no
claim to intellectual greatness.
The public clamored only for honesty, fair dealing,
and a return to the prosperity of the days when
there had been a United States bank, — money had
been plenty and provisions cheap.
The dignified and seemly manner with which the
Executive Mansion had been maintained was only a
cause of- irritation. In the campaign, a Pennsylva
nian upon the floor of Congress had detailed and
dwelt upon the elegance of its furniture, as if it were
a cause for reproach, — had compared it with a log-
cabin, as if it were a merit to live in one when one
could command something better; the new candidate
was held up as another Cihcinnatus, which so tickled

MRS. HARRISON. 1 95
his classicalfancy that he likened his journey to the
national capital to the return of Cicero to Rorae,
araid the cheers and plaudits of Cato and the stern
old Romans.
His inaugural, written in a large bold hand,
covered many sheets of foolscap. He submitted it
to Webster for criticism. Had the great man dif
fered with hira upon any of the vital topics at issue,
he might have given an attentive ear, but when he
proposed not only to condense the docuraent, but to
rob it of some of its classical allusions, Harrison
thought the statesman little knew what language
was becoming for an old Roman to use, and the
address was given intact.
His entrance into the national capital was upon a
cold February day, when the air was filled with rain
and sleet. Had he sensibly foHowed the old maxim :
"When you are among the Romans, do as the
Romans do," he would have taken a cab and ridden
comfortably to his hotel, but that would not comport
with the ways of men centuries dead, in a land thou
sands of miles removed.
He walked from the station, his head bared to the
blast, front lock d, la Napoleon, bowing acknowledg
ments for the cheers of the well-wrapped, umbrella-
protected citizens who thronged the way.
Chagrined at being opposed by his native state,
and taunted with the name of Abolitionist, before

196 MRS. HARRISON.
the mantle of power descended upon him, he made a
visit to Richmond, made speeches and assured the
citizens of his devotion to their section and its priv
ileges. A piercing northeast wind blew on the fourth of
March, 1841, and the sun was darkened by clouds.
Party friends of the general had presented a carriage
for the occasion, but now as he was to embody the
majesty of the United States, he would ride as did
the Roman Emperors along the Appian Way.
Mr. Van Buren, doubly piqued by the slight of the
civH authorities, declined to enact the part of con
quered hero in the pageantry.
General Harrison, without overcoat, mounted on a
spirited white charger, surrounded by a staff of
mounted marshals, rode, hat in hand, bowing
acknowledgments to the enthusiastic crowd, who
cheered themselves hoarse. He was followed by a
brilliant procession ; the students of the Jesuit
College at Georgetown, appeared in their uniform,
carrying a beautiful banner and headed by their
faculty. Mechanics, representing their trades, came
from all parts of the Union. Tippecanoe Clubs
rolled their log cabins, surmounted with coons and
freighted with hard cider.
The Senate Chamber had never presented a more
brilliant spectacle.' The diplomatic corps were
covered with gold and silver embroidery, with all

MRS. HARRISON. I97
their orders blazing on their breasts. The army and
navy officers were in full uniform, the Justices of the
Supreme Court in their black silk robes, and the scene
was graced by the highest dignitaries of the land.
A deafening shout went up, which proclaimed the
arrival of General Harrison, the hero of the day.
He stepped to the front of the platform, delivered
his inaugural in clear, ringing tones. His hearers,
muffled and wrapped, nearly perished from the icy
blasts, while he stood bareheaded, without overcoat
or gloves.
Mr. Monroe once said, that " a little flattery would
carry one through a great deal of fatigue," and
perhaps it has as potent an effect in warding off the
cold ; there was no lack of shouts and cheers as the
President handled each favorite topic. The press
commented on the message rather adversely, called
it "vague and diffuse," still the party hoped for the
best. Benumbed and half-frozen as he was, the president
waived away the carriage offered him and rode upon
his charger as he came. On reaching the Executive
Mansion he held a reception, and for three hours
he was constantly shaking hands with the crowds,
that thronged the house.
The day wound up with three inaugural balls, and
the president favored each with a visit, accorapanied
by his daughter-in-law, who for the present was to

1-98 MRS. HARRISON.
preside over his household. The delicacy of Mrs.
Harrison's health forbade her traveHing until the
season was more advanced.
According to all the laws of self-preservation,
which the Chief Magistrate had defied, he ought
to have been seized with his mortal iHness then,
instead of a month later.
Office-seekers worried and wore him down ; he
had differences with the great men of Ms party, who
rather sought to control him ; once he turned
sharply on Clay and said : " Mr. Clay, you forget
that I am President ; " he rarely retired before one
o'clock in the morning and as had been his habit, rose
early. These things began to tell upon the frame
that had failed to succumb upon the day of the
inauguration. Probably an overcoat did not form a
part of his wardrobe, as he was never known to
wear one. In one of his early walks to market, he
was caught in a shower, and refused on his return,
to change his wet clothes. This time, the disease,
pneumonia, that his imprudence had invited, settled
upon him.
The nature of his worries appeared in his delirium.
At one time he said, " My dear madam, I did not
direct that your husband should be turned out I
did not know it. I tried to prevent it" At an
other: "It is wrong — I won't consent — 'tis un
just." Again: "These applications, — will they

MRS. HARRISON. 1 99
never cease.'" His honesty appeared in his last
words, when he said, as if addressing his successor,
" Sir ! I wish you to understand the true principles
of the governraent. I wish them carried out, I ask
nothing more."
On the fourth of April, there was death in the
White House, where "never before had trod his
skeleton foot" The hero of Tippecanoe "from the
round at the top had stepped to the sky." The
hosts, who had corae before to witness his triumph,
came again to behold the funeral pomp. Public and
private buildings were draped in black, minute-guns
were fired, flags everywhere at half-mast, and all
places of business closed.
The services were held in the Executive Mansion.
The casket lay in the East Room, where one little
month before he had stood through the long levee.
It was covered with black velvet, triraraed with
gold lace, and over it was thrown a velvet pall with
a deep, golden fringe. On this lay the sword of
justice and. the sword of state, surmounted by the
scroll of the Constitution, bound together by a
funeral wreath of yew and cypress. Around the
casket were grouped in a circle, the new President,
Mr. Tyler, the ex-President, John Quincy Adams,
and the members of the cabinet In the next
circle were the diplomatic corps in their rich court
suits, members of Congress, and the relatives of
the dead president.

200 MRS. HARRISON.
An outer circle was made up of a vast assemblage
of friends. When the clergyman began ; " I am
the resurrection and the life," the entire company
rose and joined in the burial service of the Episco
pal church.
The funeral car was drawn by six white horses,
each having at his head a black groom dressed in
white, with white turban and sash. Outside of the
grooms walked the pall-bearers, dressed in black,
with black scarfs.
The procession with its military escort, was two
miles in length and eclipsed the inauguration pa
geant which had preceded it. The remains were
placed in a tomb in the Congressional Burying
Ground, and the military fired three volleys over it.
Mrs. Harrison was busy with preparations for her
journey, with her husband's letter before her, telling
of the inaugural balls and the high honors heaped
upon him, when a messenger came with the fatal
news. For once the brave. Christian woman was stricken
to the earth. Dead ! She could not believe it.
In time, not then, she could repeat the text which
had ever been her help, and resigned cheerfulness
returned. For fourteen years she remained at the farm at
North Bend, but as extreme old age crept on, she
was persuaded to go to the house of her son, five

MRS. HARRISON. 201
miles away, where she died in her eighty-ninth year.
Her funeral serraon was preached by Dr. Bushnell
from her favorite text, at her own request. Her
remains were taken to North Bend, and laid beside
her husband's on the banks of the Ohio.
Her grandson, Benjamin Harrison, is the present
Republican candidate for the Presidency.

MRS. LETITIA CHRISTIAN TYLER.—
MRS. JULIA GARDINER TYLER.
Miss Letitia Christian, belonging to one of the
oldest and best families, was called the belle of East
ern Virginia, when she had only turned her sixteenth
year. Modest, retiring, cultivated," and beautiful, the
fairest among a bevy of fair sisters, she was sought
by many suitors, among whom was John Tyler, a boy
of seventeen, son of the governor of the state.
On his part, it was love at first sight; and so ar
dent was his wooing that he soon distanced all his
rivals. Boy and girl as they were, they plighted
their troth. It was his pride that he had no fortune
to offer, declaring that the thought of her being in
fluenced by prudential motives would have eternally
tortured him.
So digni led was the reserve of this belle and
beauty, that she would never give permission to her
lover to address her by letter, though he penned her
many a love sonnet.
The engagement lasted more than five years, and
it was only three months before marriage- that he
dared break bounds and send his first love letter, re-

MRS. LETITIA CHRISTIAN TYLER. 203
markable for its lofty delicacy. It is still carefully
preserved in the family. He often told his children
that he " never presuraed to kiss her hand at parting
until within three weeks of the wedding day."
On his twenty-third birthday, when Miss Letitia
was twenty-two, he led her to the altar, and thus se
cured to hiraself the support of the influential family
to which she belonged. As soon as the festivities
were over, he took his bride to Greenway, an estate
belonging to his father.
She shrank frora public notice, and enjoyed noth
ing so rauch as her own home. When her husband
became governor of the state, she is said to have
presided with ease, dignity, and grace. Qnly one
season could she be persuaded to spend amid the
social gayeties of Washington, during the five terms
that he served as representative and senator. But
once could he prevail on her to go araong the fash
ionable watering places at the North. She pre
ferred the quiet, slow ways of the mountain resorts
of her native state ; indeed, her nursery left her
little leisure for society. She was the mother of
nine children, two of whom died in infancy.
As years went by she grew frail and delicate. A
new daughter, the bride of her eldest son, described
her in her declining health, as "bearing the marks of
her early, beauty, — a skin as soft and smooth as a
baby's, sweet, loving black eyes, features delicately

204 MRS. LETITIA CflRISTIAN TYLER.
moulded, perfect hands and feet, gentle and graceful
in her movements, with a peculiar air of refinement,
a nature entirely unselfish, all her thoughts and af- "
fection given to her husband and children."
In her early married life, when there were times
of pecuniary difficulties, her one thought had been^to
save her husband from care and expense, and that his
honest independence was preserved was chiefly owing
to her.
In 1839, she had a stroke of paralysis, from which
she never fully rallied. Two years later, Harrison's
untimely death placed her husband at the head of
the nation. She went to the White House with a
heavy heart. She had been brought near and faced
the unseen world, and realized that she was stifl
within its shadow. Fashion, display, and the per
sonal triumph of holding the highest place, could
have for her no charm. She received few visitors
and paid no visits. The social duties of her position
she delegated to her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Robert
Tyler, until her own daughter, Letitia, Mrs. Semple,
was able to assume the place.
Mrs. Robert Tyler was a very elegant and accom
plished woman, daughter of Thomas Apthorpe Cooper,
the tragedian. Before her marriage, she assisted
him in Virginius, taking the part of Virginia, more
fl om filial love than from any desire for the stage.
In his old age, she had the satisfaction of procuring

MRS. LETITIA CHRISTIAN TYLER. 20S
for him a position in the New York Custom House,
and later, a better one at the Arsenal in PhHadelphia.
The Tylers were the first to introduce music in the
presidential grounds.
A gay marriage was celebrated in the Executive
Mansion, fast becoming historic, between Miss Eliza
beth, third daughter of the family, and Mr. WHliam
Waller. It was intended, on the mother's account,
that it should be very private ; but in their high sta
tion it could not well be managed. Mrs. Madison,
the families of the members of the cabinet, and those
of the foreign ministers, with a host of relatives and
friends, made up a brilliant assemblage. It was the
first tirae that Mrs. Tyler ever appeared in general
society at the White House. It may have been lov
ing partiality that gave the verdict, but the famHy
decided that she was more attractive in looks and
bearing than any woman present.
Once again she was present, at the fancy ball given
by her three-year-old, fairy-dressed granddaughter,
when every state in the Union had its baby repre
sentative. Mrs. Madison, the distinguished guest
wherever she went, sat opposite the little hostess, —
the only adult guest seated. No servants were pres
ent, but lady guests served, and distributed the
Christmas gifts.
Early in the. autumn of the second year of Tyler's
reign, Mrs. Tyler was again stricken with paralysis,

206 MRS. LETITIA CHRISTIAN TYLER.
and in a few hours " slept the sleep that knows no
waking:" The funeral service, the second in the
White House, was according to the rites of the Epis
copal church, of which she was a member ; a touch
ing scene was enacted outside the mansion, by the
gathering of a crowd of her beneficiaries, sobbing,
wringing their hands, and every now and then crying
out, " Oh, the poor have lost a friend." After the
service, her husband bore her home to Virginia.
The Executive Mansion, never gay under the Tylers,
was now shrouded in mourning.
The administration was very unpopular, so much
so that Congress would make no appropriation for
furnishing the house, nor for any of the incidental
expenses which its occupancy entailed. A son of
the President was his private secretary, but Con
gress would grant no salary.
By a political compromise, Tyler's name had been
put on the Whig ticket with Harrison's, to secure
Southern votes. Unexpectedly and unfortunately
for himself and the nation, he became Chief Magis
trate. At the time of the inauguration, he had
taken umbrage at the course of affairs and had
retired to his home in Virginia, where he was
notified of the event which exalted him.
The cabinet, by the advice of John Quincy Adams,
decided that he should be officially styled, "Vice-
President of the United States, acting President."

MRS. LETITIA CHRISTIAN TYLER. 207
Mr. Tyler came, — he was to be no regent, boldly
signed himself " President of the United States,"
claimed all the honors of his position, and by com
mon consent the title was admitted as legitimate
At his hotel, he at once took the same oath that
other Presidents had taken. In June he sent to the
extra session of Congress, which General Harrison
had convened, a message, so uncertain in its tone,
that it might be twisted to mean anything which
future events might make it ^expedient for him to
carry out. ,
The whole elective campaign had turned on the
United States Bank, and here was where he was the
least lucid, was said to have displayed the " caution
and ambiguity of a Talleyrand." The Whigs were
alarmed. The imperious leader, Henry Clay, antici
pating trouble, exclaimed, "Tyler dares not resist :
I wHl drive him before me."
The first business of the session was the repeal of
the Sub-Treasury Act, which so elated the party,
that they celebrated it in a procession and a mock
funeral for the obnoxious measure, made festive by
fireworks and martial music.
The bHl for the Distribution of the Proceeds of
the Public Lands among the States, and the Bank
rupt Law passed as harmoniously, and received the
President's signature.
Then came the grand crisis. The House and the

208 MRS. LETITIA CHRISTIAN TYLER.
Senate passed the biH upon which the Whigs
thought the salvation of the nation hinged.
Tyler slept over it (more nights than were thought
necessary), wept over it, prayed over it, and then
vetoed it. Words cannot describe the frenzied fury
of the party.
In the evening a noisy disorderly crowd gathered
about the Executive Mansion and hissed and anathe
matized the President. Within the brilliantly
lighted house, sipping champagne, sat the smiling,
triumphant Democrats, congratulating him upon the
"courageous and patriotic step" he had taken.
Shortly after. Clay dramatized the visit before the
Senate, in a satire so striking and artistic that the
victims themselves could but applaud. Imitating
the style of the different orators, the supposed
speech of each was given with inimitable skill, and
each was prefaced by a word-picture of the person -
of the speaker. Calhoun's was, " tall, careworn,
¦yvith fevered brow, haggard cheek and eye, intensely
gazing, looking as if he were dissecting the last and
newest abstraction which sprang from some meta
physician's brain, and muttering to himself, in half-
uttered words, ' This is indeed a crisis ! ' "
The humorous picture of Buchanan, introducing
the Democratic Senators, was so amusing to him
that he answered it in the same vein.
The press and people of the opposition denounced

MRS. LETITIA CHRISTIAN TYLER. 209
the President as a renegade, a name which has ever
since clung to him ; he retorted that he never did
endorse the measure.
As the United States Bank never had a second
birth under succeeding administrations, and the
government has not collapsed, it seems unjust to
say that he earned his sobriquet then, — rather say
that he was wiser than his compeers. National re
quirements never become "obsolete ideas."
Minor troubles rose in different states, which had
to be suppressed by the strong arm of the law,
backed by the military. " Little Rhody," the pin-head
state, raised the cry of rebellion and undertook to
carry martters with a high hand. The cry of treason
was no wolf story. The bogus governor was caught,
tried, convicted, and had Jackson been on the
throne, his ideal gallows, fashioned after Haman's,
would have been set right up ; as it was, bolts and
bars kept hira in duress until the settlement of the
" Suffrage Difficulties " drew out his fangs, and Dorr
was pardoned.
Some of the patroons of New York refused to pay
their rent, even kHled the tax-collectors, tarred and
feathered the timid citizens who would rather pay
the nominal exaction, under an old Dutch law, of a
"few bushels of wheat, three or four fat fowl, and a
day's work with horses and wagon per year " than
break the iaw, resist the officers, and bring ruin upon

2IO MKS. LETITIA CHRISTIAN TYLER.
their families. United States troops suppressed
the patroons, and time has suppressed the law.
Mormon institutions are tolerated by the United
States government, but the people of Illinois re
solved that if the sect were to live and grow, her
soil was not to be polluted by the practice of their
religious tenets. Around the Nauvoo settleraent,
mob-law prevailed for three days, the town was
sheHed, the leader torn from the arm of the authori
ties, to whom he had given himself up for safety
and killed. The charter of Nauvoo was repealed by
the legislature of Illinois, and the Mormons wended
their way to Council Bluffs, and thence to Utah.
After Mr. Tyler's second veto of Whig measures,
all his cabinet resigned, save Webster, who remained
for a purpose. Troubles in the northeast were thick
ening and war with England threatening.
Lord Ashburton was in Washington with orders
to try negotiation. The preliminaries had been
entered upon and the Secretary of State was bent
upon concluding it. That it was brought to a suc
cessful issue by his masterly diplomacy was a cause
of congratulation, and he termed it the greatest
achievement of his life. The old sore was at last
healed — England relinquished the right of impress
ment, and satisfactory boundaries were fixed ; save
Oregon, which then was hardly thought worth own
ing, and the cod-fisheries, there seemed to be noth-

MRS. LETITIA CHRISTIAN TYLER. 211
ing left for the United States and England to
wrangle over.
In the flush of success, Mr. Webster said to a
friend : " There have been periods when I could have
kindled a war, but, I remembered that I was negotia
ting for a Christian country, with a Christian coun
try, and that we were all living in the nineteenth
century of the Christian era. My duty was clear and
plain." When the annexation of Texas was mooted, Mr.
Webster could not endorse the measure ; the Presi
dent perceptibly cooled towards him and he resigned
his position.
Tyler's term was drawing to a close. He was
hated by one party and despised by the other ; his
personal clique was so small, that it was dubbed by
Clay as the " corporal's guard." His sobriquet may
now be said to have been fairly earned. From the
first, his ruling ambition had been to add the " lone
star " state to the Union. Could he succeed, he
might yet bind laurels about his brow and create
a party in his favor. Every engine was set in
motion. By request. General Jackson wrote a letter
endorsing the measure. Calhoun was offered the
place of premier, which he accepted, and his state,
rampant as ever, raised the cry of " Texas or dis
union." The entire South was for annexation, but
they repudiated Tyler.

212 MRS. LETITIA CHRISTIAN TYLER.
Calhoun, by means of his able associates, legislated
Texas into the Union, and the last official act of the
President was to sign the bHl for its admission.
The thing for which he had worked and schemed
was done, and his administration had the honor or
dishonor of doing it.
The second winter after the death of Mrs. Tyler,
Mr. Gardiner of Gardiner's Island, in Long Island
Sound, a wealthy and distinguished gentleman, who
had been traveHing over Europe with his young and
accomplished daughter. Miss Julia, brought her to
share in the social gayeties of Washington. She
became at once the belle of the city.
The widowed President, worn down by the un
happy state of political affairs, a connoisseur of beau
tiful women, found solace and relaxation in the
society of this cultivated girl, whom he soon began
to woo.
Tragedy was so mixed with the love-making, that
the pair were able to keep it secret until it ended in
marriage. The President, the cabinet, with other
guests, among whom were Mr. Gardiner and his
daughter, were invited by Captain Stockton to a sail
upon the Potomac, in the war steamer " Princeton "
to witness the testing of the "Peacemaker," a new
cannon. Before the ceremony, the guests sat in the
cabin, gayly jesting and sipping wine. At length the
captain said that all was ready. The gentlemen.

MRS. JULIA GARDINER tVlER. 213
with the exception of the President, sprang to their
feet and went up the companionway. The gunner
stood at his post, the company were ranged in a
semicircle, and the captain only waited for the pres
ence of the Chief Magistrate to give the signal. A
second time, word was sent to the President that all
was ready, and it was gently hinted that he had
better go on deck.
StHl he lingered ; what cared he for a. cannon or a
cannon's voice when he could bandy repartees with a
fair, fascinating young girl, watch her blushes, and
strive to win a love glance from her bright
eyes .¦"
The men on deck tired of the delay and grew res
tive. The captain gave the word, the gunner did his
duty ; soraething was wrong, somebody had blun
dered, the ball burst the cannon. The explosion, the
shrieks of the wounded, roused the President from
the love dream which probably saved his life. Two
members of the cabinet and the father of Miss
Gardiner lay araong the dead and dying. Their
bodies were taken to the Executive Mansion, and
there the funeral services were performed.
Miss Gardiner went to New York with the body of
her father. This shocking catastrophe, which cast a
gloom over the capital, and sent a thrHl of horror
throughout the country, blotted out the remem
brance of the fascinations which Miss Gardiner had

214 MRS. JULIA GARDI-NER .TYLER.
seemed to possess for the widower of the White
House. A few months later, the President announced that
urgent business required him to make a ftying visit
to New York. At that time, Miss Gacdiner lived in
Lafayette Place, between the Bowery and Broadway,
a region rich in golden memories to old New
Yorkers, who are to-day mourning lest the quaint
and monastic street in the heart of the city must
give way to the march of improvement. The day
after his arrival, he took Miss Gardiner to the
Church of the Ascension, corner of Fifth Avenue
and Tenth Street, and in a strictly private way made
her his wife.
It was a social sensation which took New York by
surprise ; they fired a hundred guns in honor of the
event. The President's " urgent business " was
ended, and he at once installed his bride as mistress
of the Executive Mansion.
The lady received guests, dispensed hospitahty
with a queenly grace, and brought a gleam of sun
shine upon the Tyler administration. The splenetic
John Randolph would say, " She is altogether the
best raan of the two."
The spring after the President's marriage, his term
of office expired, which was an unspeakable relief to
the nation and probably to hiniself, for the land
was teeming with murmurs and vituperation ; save

MRS. JULIA GARDINER TYLER. 215
among officeholders, there were none to do him
honor. Historians, while condemning his administration,
have tried -to throw the mantle of charity about him
by saying he was in a false position, a. Democrat
elected by the Whigs, it was not in the power of
man to please, but he was once the endorser of
Henry Clay.
He had polished manners, a mind of rare culture,
ample means, an elegant horae in Sherwood Forest,
loving sons and daughters, a beauteous young wife,
and had it not been for the storm of war and rebel
lion th^t swept- over the land, and which his doc
trines and influence had helped to foster, he might
have lived out his days in calm, happy retire
ment. When Virginia seceded from the Union, he
renounced his allegiance to the United States and
joined the Confederates. He was the president of
the Peace Commissioners who carae to Washington
in the last days of Buchanan's regime and accora
plished nothing.
He was spared from drinking the lees from the
bitter cup pressed so closely to Southern lips, as he
died in January, 1862. He lies in an unmarked,
neglected grave, in Hollywood cemetery, Richmond.
If an appropriation were asked from the legislature
of Virginia, or from Congress for a memorial tablet

2l6 MRS. JULIA GARDINER TYLER.
to the memory of John Tyler, it would probably be
refused, or, at least, raise a wrangle.
As in life, so at death was his position an anoma
lous one, — in rebellion against the government of
which he was once the supreme head and had sworn
to protect.
His estate was ruined, and in the course of years
the ancestral property of Mrs. Tyler became in
volved. In 1879, she asked a pension from Con
gress. That Congress responded with the amount -
given to widows of presidents is a mark that the old
sectional bitterness is crushed out ; that the govern
ment knows no North, no South ; that every star in
the grand old flag is in its place, waving over the
land, made free.
A few years since, Mrs. Tyler bought a beautiful
place in Richmond, which is now her home. Now
and then she visits Washington, and the few who
can remetnber her as a girl and a bride, say she stifl
has traces of the beauty and grace which made her
the belle of the capital more than forty years ago.-
Her portrait, in bridal dress and veil, is hanging in
the White House, and was the second portrait per
mitted to hang there.
Since the marriage of Mrs. Cleveland, she has lost
the distinction of being the only woman who ever
wedded a President of the United States.
She is a devout member of the Catholic Church.

MRS. POLK.
Miss Sarah Childress was the daughter of a
Tennessee farraer, near Murfreesboro; one of those
brave, enterprising men, who had stepped into the
forest, and with his own right arm cut down trees,
built a home, to which every passing year added
increased ease and plenty, — in time was called rich
by those who lived about him.
His own boyhood had been spent in work and
poverty, in a region where books were rare, and
schools open only for a few weeks in winter.
His circumstances were not as his father's had
been, and as his children passed from infancy to
youth, his one thought was to give them a chance
of acquiring an education which had never come to
himself. The Moravians, a learned sect, descended from
the old Hussites, of Bohemia, had established board
ing-schools in Germany, England, and the United
States. One in the neighboring state. North Car
olina, had a name for strict discipline and thorough
teaching. The father planned better than he knew
when he gave to the care of these brothers the little
217

2l8 MRS. POLK.
girl, who was one day to be the first lady of the
land. The old poets. Homer and Hesiod, tell us a pretty
story, if it be not true (why may it not be true .' ),
that around the cradle of mortals sit the Parcse,
three old women ; one presides at birth, one cuts
the thread that links the mortal part to the immor
tal ; Homer says not Jupiter himself can stay her
hand when once she has lifted her scissors. The
second sister, Lachesis, spins and weaves the events
and actions of human life. Had the old crone whis
pered in Farmer Childress's ear, the secrets of the
web she was weaving for his child, he could not
have acted a wiser part.
The little Sarah was dark-skinned, black-eyed -;-
looked more as if she were an Italian or a Spanish
chHd than an American, full of fun, and so very
intelligent that the learned brothers guided her
studies and watched her progress with delight.
Yet the school life was short in those days, — it
was not thought wise that girls should have too
much learning, — it rather made them objects of ridi
cule. Her cheerfulness, her flashing wit, her hand
some face, and well-bred manners, made her a
favorite among the townspeople, the pride and joy
of her father's heart ; her mother had died while
she was yet an infant.
The gay, young people, and the open hospitality

MRS. POLK. 219
of the Childress's farm brought a crowd of visitors.
One came, coolly put his feet beneath the farmer's
social board, partook of all the country pleasures,
yet he had but one intent, — that was to rob. Be
fore she knew it, he had Miss Sarah's heart in his
keeping. When a man has played the game of love and
won his point, he goes to the father with confident
boldness, and without any feeling, remorse, or a
shadov/ of shame, asks to take away the girl who
for two decades or more has been loved, petted, the
charm of the father's heart and the mother's life.
This lover was eight years the girl's senior, a
rising lawyer, and a member of the State Legisla
ture, called James K. Polk.
With her teens went her maidenhood. At twenty
she was the wife of a popular politician. Weddings
in the country were followed by days of merry
making and festive pleasures. The popularity of
the bride, and the prominent position of the groom,
gave special zest to this occasion.
With uncoraraon intelligence and the fondness of
a young wife, Mrs. Polk threw herself into her hus
band's career. If he bowed at the shrine of the
Hero of the Hermitage, so bowed she.
This marriage was in the exciting year that
Jackson ran in the presidential race with Adams,
and Adams won. The general assumed a careless

220 MRS. POLK.
cheerfulnes's, but was nursing up wrath against all
who opposed bim. Polk opposed Adams through
his entire administration, and in the next campaign
used all his powerful influence to defeat hira, and
place Jackson in power. When he was himself a
candidate for the presidency, the old man was not
ungrateful, but worked and schemed ; at the end,
hobbled to the polls, and threw what ' proved to be
his last vote for one he called his protege.
A year after the marriage, Mr. Polk was elected
representative to Congress, and re-elected for four
teen successive sessions. It was with delight that
Mns. Polk entered upon the social pleasures of the
capital. She made herself mistress of all the ins
and outs of the political world ; yet she was a
womanly woman, and had no desire to shine as a
disputant in the political arena. Men of both par
ties sat at her hospitable board, but with wonderful
tact she kept politics in the background, and by her
ready wit and rare conversational powers threw a
charm over aH her guests.
In 1839, Mr. Polk declined entering the contest
for re-election, that he might be a candidate for the
office of Governor of Tennessee.
He stumped the state for himself, as was the
Southern custom. On the fairest terras with his
popular opponent, his ambition was aroused, and he
went in to win. Day and night he worked, flew

MRS. POLK. 221
from east to west, frora north to south, seemed to
know no weariness ; it was said that he did not
remove his boots during the campaign.
His private life, and his record as an honest poli
tician were spotless. He offered no terms, made no
bargains, gave his past integrity as his gage. His
frank manners and thrilling eloquence won the
masses, who called him the " Napoleon of the
Stump," — a title that both parties conceded was
fairly won, and at a moment's notice he could make
good. Success crowned his efforts, and the gover
nor's mansion at Nashville was the popular resort
of all Tennesseeans.
About this time, Mrs. Polk embraced the Presby
terian faith, which extreme converts twist into some
thing cold and ascetic. Christians in the full sense
of the word (perhaps St. Simeon Stylites was), yet,
in giving up innocent arauseraents, they raake those
outside the pale feel that the Master's burden is
heavy. In His sad mission, we have but one record that
He ever entered the house of feasting and gayety, —
then, that nothing might be wanting to make the
occasion complete, we read that He worked one of
His mighty miracles.
Mrs. Polk's friends thought she carried her first
zeal to asceticism, but over and above her austerities
there was a sweetness of disposition, gracefulness and

222 MRS. POLK.
ease of manner, with such unfailing courtesy, that
she won favor from every one who approached her.
During the fierce campaign of Harrison and Tyler,
when politicians were stirred almost to madness, her
politeness alike to Democrat and Whig never failed ;
a strong partisan of Van Buren's, she never paraded
it. In 1844, her husband was in the very maelstrom of
politics. His nomination for the presidency was the
first message ever sent over telegraphic wires.
In those days there were mighty giants in the
land. James K. Polk was trotted out as a well-
groomed, " dark horse," and pressed to the front.
His opponent, Henry Clay, who was the idol of the
Whig party, soon found that the "dark horse" was
of the Arabian breed, sensitive, high-spirited, never
flinched at any barrier. The grand old man whom
the nation loved, yet faHed to honor, was distanced
in the race.
Some said Polk came into power by fraud ; others
said, by sheer good luck, he was a pigmy beside the
giants ; and a larger number asked, " Who is Polk ? "
Back of it all was the old feud between North
and South. Tyler's parting benediction had been
the annexation of Texas. Southerners stood with
carving knives in hand ; nine states they thought to
be about the right number, none much less than
New York in size, and all for the solid South. The

MRS. POLK. ' 223
Mexicans claimed the whole of Texas, though she
had maintained her independence for nine years ;
besides, there was a dispute as to her boundaries.
The bold Sam Houston claimed that he had con
quered his way to the Rio Grande, whfle the Mexi
cans denied his crossing the Nueces.
It was supposed that the Mexicans would have
pluck enough to make a contest over their spoliations,
and to that contest Polk was pledged; therein lay
the mettle of the " dark horse."
Mr. Polk felt that the haste in annexing Texas had
snatched some of the laurels which should have been
bound about his own brow, nevertheless, in his in
augural he sang the proper exultant pseans, and
proraised to hold fast to the state, which the astute
Calhoun, rather than Tyler, had clutched.
His closing theme was Oregon. He declared that
it was not to be divided, and asserted that our title to
it was " clear and unquestionable."
Jackson had advised him upon the subject, and his
advice sounded like that of a certain father to his
son : " Get money, my son, honestly if you can, but
get it"
Well, the president had thrown down a gage to two
foreign governments, aroused the ire of his oppo
nents, and created a jealousy araong his friends.
England's premier's comment upon the message
was a "blustering announcement."

224 MRS. POLK.
Responsibilities crowded upon the president, and
embarrassraents weighed hira down ; the treasury was
depleted, and there was no settled basis upon which
to rest for filling it.
No wonder that his hair blanched, his health faHed,
his step became that of an old man, and that he bore
an air of languor and exhaustion.
At the tirae when the Presidents come into power,
many of the wives have passed middle age, and, used
only tp country life, have entered upon the duties of
the Executive Mansion with shrinking and dread.
The position is a big sugarplum, but it comes so late
it has no sweetness. Even Mrs. Washington com
plained, said things were not as they should be ; her
day had gone by to enjoy the triuraph.
Mrs. Polk was a childless wife, and, in the fuH ma
turity of her matronly charms, had already won a
high position in Washington society. When her day
of triumph came, she stepped to the front with ease,
grace, and un raixed pleasure. She has corae down in
the annals of the White House as one of its most
popular mistresses, yet in her day there were com
plaints that she soraetiraes forgot that she was pre
siding over the nation's house, — seemed to think it
her private home, to be ordered according to the
formalities of her rigid, Puritan life.
Mrs. John Adams had introduced the custom of -
offering cake and wine at levees. Jackson thought

MRS. POLK. 225
cake nothing without cheese, and so had added that
to the menu.
More than half a century had gone by since we
had cut the leading Strings by which England held
us in hand, and set up housekeeping for ourselves.
Washington, an aristocrat by birth, bred in vice
regal courts, trained by the courtly Fairfax, held a
Republican Court on England's royal plan. Only
the upper classes were admitted, and those under
court regulations as to dress. No clasping of hands,
only sweeping curtsies, and majestic bows for the
majesty of the United States.
Times were not as they had been. Every succeed
ing reign had made our ways less and less like Eng
land's, more and more for the people. At stated times,
the hurablest in the land could cross the President's
threshold, and take hira and his wife by the hand.
Mrs. Polk put an end to refreshments, but it was
in no spirit of parsimony or teetotalism, only things
were on a different basis.
At the present tirae, the President's increased
salary would not cover the cake and cheese, nor
all the vintages of Europe supply the wine, even if
the guests drank like gentleraen.
Solomon, especially endowed with wisdom, said
that there is a tirae for everything under the sun,
but to a rigid Presbyterian there is no time to dance,
so Mrs. Polk swept that custom aside.

226 MRS. POLK.
The Executive Mansion is not the place for balls ;
Mrs. Polk pleasantly said to one who disapproved
her act, " You would not dance in the President's
house, would you ? " To-day, the thing would not
be. tolerated ; but the one who took the initiative in
these proper changes raust, of course, corae in for a
certain amount of censure ; yet, her exceeding affa-
bflity tided her over, and where a less potent social
factor would have gone down, she won.
Like Lady Washington, she received her guests
sitting ; once when she sat gayly talking with the
crowd about her sofa, a distinguished South Carolin
ian raised his voice, he meant to be heard, and said :
" Madam, there is a woe pronounced against you
in the Bible." Every voice was hushed, and a
scared look carae over the faces of the guests, only
Mrs. Polk was at ease, and whfle her black eyes
flashed, she said, with a bright smHe, " What have I
done .'' " " Well, the Bible say.s, ' Woe unto you,
when all men speak weH of you.'" Again the
guests breathed, and the wit and abandon went on
StiH more merrily.
In the last year of her stay in the Executive
Mansion, there was a grand dinner party. Henry
Clay, as the most honored guest, sat at Mrs Polk's
right hand. In the happy manner and silvery tones
which took every heart by storm, he said : " Madam,
I must say that in my travels, wherever I have been.

MRS. POLK. 227
in all companies and among all parties, I have heard
but one opinion of you. All agree in comraending
your excellent adrainistration of the doraestic affairs
of the White House. But," looking towards her
husband, "as for that young gentleman there, I
cannot say as much. There is some little difference
of opinion in regard to the policy of his course."
Mrs. Polk's happy gift at repartee never failed her.
" Indeed," she said, " I am glad to hear that my
administration is popular ; and in return for your
compliment, I will say, that if the country should
elect a Whig next fall, I know of no one whose
elevation would please me more than that of Henry
Clay. And I will assure you of one thing, if you do
have occasion to occupy the White House on the
fourth of March next, it shall be surrendered to you
in perfect order, from garret to cellar."
" Thank you, thank you ! " said Mr. Clay, " I am
certain that "  in the uncertain sea of politics,
Clay was glad to drown what he was certain of in
the gay shouts of laughter given in applause of Mrs.
Polk. The foreign ministers would often remark that
not a crowned head in Europe could queen it more
royally than the wife of the Republican President,
but that her dark face fitted her rather for the crown
of Spain than for any Anglo-Saxon throne.
Poets penned poems in her honor. One, perhaps

228 MRS. POLK.
by poetical license, compared her to the Pleiad, who
forsook her home and broke the hearts of her sisters.
Ovid puts it that the Pleiad, a daughter of the skies,
by stooping to wed a mortal man, lost her celestial
light, thus causing her sisters shame — a word never
to be coupled with the name of Mrs. James K. Polk.
Mr. Polk redeemed his pledge, and pushed on the
war with -Mexico. United States soldiers sat in the
halls of the Montezumas and dictated terms of peace.
Money was given ,the conquered- people by the mil
lion, but New Mexico and California were the spoils
of the victors.
The giants of the North said it was done by might,
not by right; that the warwas unjust in its origin
and slavery was its object.
The carvers whetted their knives, and said, we can
double the nine states and all for the solid South.
Although the war had been opposed by the North,
yet when it had been once declared, it patrioticaHy
joined hands with the South, and supported it in good
faith. Webster and Clay, each gave a son and each
lost. (My country, right or wrong !)
Victory and possession brought forward the por
tentous subject that was so hydra-headed. A Her
cules could always be found to cut off, but not untH
Lincoln's administration was there an lolas to apply
the burning iron.
One, David WHmot, had offered a bill in Congress,

MRS. POLK. 229
forbidding slavery in any territory to be acquired
from Mexico. It had been lost when we had the
territory to win, but now it was won, the Proviso
had more interest and agitated many minds.
Calhoun raaintained that the territories were cora
mon property, and that the people of the North and
of the South should enter in and enjoy the land, each
in its own way.
Imagine Calhounists and Garrisonites dwelling
side by side ! In comparison with the result, the
explosion of dynamite would be but the effervescence
of soda.
There was a hue and cry throughout the land. A
cry of "dissolution of the Union" carae shrieking
from the South. To complicate serious matters and
make thera more serious, the country was on the eve
of a presidential election.
Politicians can lash the people into fury, but some
times an unlooked-for even^ wfll mysteriously change
the phase of affairs, and calm the passions of men.
An El Dorado opened on the Pacific slope in 1848,
just at the close of the war. Foreigners and. natives,
red men and white, flocked thither in crowds, but
Northerners led the van and outnumbered all the
rest. They were going to see no Southern carvers
make rainceraeat of the land where they had corae
to dwell — not they. When California knocked at
the gate of the Union she came in free.

230 ^ ¦ MRS. POLK.
If there be a pie with a plum, England is always
ready to put in her thumb. In the days when Texas
was an independent state, her cotton fields were
very fair to English eyes. Somehow, and in some
way, she had hoped to reap some advantage from
thera, but when the United States, with raarveUous
gastronomic skill, swallowed the pie whole, she lost
the delicious plura.
Before the victories beyond the Rio Grande had
begun, the Oregon difficulty had assumefl alarming
proportions. More land on the American continent
England will have, and she boldly makes a claim in
the Northwest — says all Oregon down to the Califor
nia line is hers. Mr. Polk, as boldly and a little more
so, says it is not.
The country had been thought to be a wilderness
and fur-bearing animals its only product.
The fur companies of the two countries had
trapped and traded at their different settlements, and
the question of land ownership had hardly been
raised. But for the missionary, Marcus Whitman,
Mr. Webster would have traded off all Oregon for
the cod fisheries in the northeast.
The English had never thought to settle in the
country, but when Americans with families did, in
the rich valley of the Willamette, they thought there
must be something juicy, which it behooved them to
extract.

MRS. POLK. 231
Had Mr. Polk been autocrat, as well as cormorant,
they would only have gained it by the measuring of
swords and the firing of cannons ; but in the United
States there was a Senate and House of Representa
tives ; in England, a Queen with a wise domestic
counseller, and Lord John Russell for premier, and
comraissioners were appointed to negotiate.
The states that had whipped England before they
were born, had no fear of her now, when they were
in full raaturity, but there was a spirit of concession
on both sides, and the dogs of war that Polk stood
ready to unleash, were stayed by a compromise,
which fixed the forty-ninth parallel as our northern
boundary, instead of 54° 40', which Mr. Polk and his
supporters clairaed.
In Tyler's administration, Calhoun had offered the
British government all north of the forty-ninth paral
lel. Buchanan renewed the offer, but the govern
ment remained stiff ; he withdrew it and, backed by
Polk, it was " 54° 40' or fight." When the negotia
tions began, the outlook was very gloomy ; stocks
fell and business men were alarmed. The proposi
tion to take what it had twice refused, came from the
British government.
The American Minister in London sent a whisper
over the water that England had been outwitted —
she neither knew the value of what she had relin
quished, nor did she know how deeply we were in-

, 232 MRS. POLK.
volved with the Mexicans down upon the Rio
Grande. One would think Mr. Polk's greed for territory
might have been satiated.
When he came into power the country was virtu
ally bounded by the Rocky Mountains ; now it
swept from ocean to ocean ; the flag, that had been
planted on the banks of the Sabine had moved d.own
to the Rio Grande, and waved there by right. On
the North, the government had been a little mixed as
to meum et tuum, but he had the happy conscious
ness that in his administration, it was peaceably
adjusted. President Polk courteously welcomed General Tay
lor to the White House, and on the fifth of March,
(the fourth being Sunday) rode with him to the
Capitol and congratulated him, when he had taken
the oath of office, and carae back a private citizen.
His enemies said that he had been another Caesar,
" ranging for revenge, ,
With Ate by his side, come hot from hell."
His friends said that he had kept the "whiteness of
his soul ; " with human wisdom, and human frailties,
beset by politicians, it is as difficult for a raan to
go through an administration at the White House
without soH, as it would be for a camel to go through
the eye of a needle without being pinched.

MRS. POLK. 233
The last Sunday of Mrs. Polk's stay in Washing
ton the Presbyterian clergyraan addressed her from
the pulpit, and gave her the comraunion. To pastor
and people, the day was a day of raourning.
Mr. Polk had stepped round by round, frora the
State legislature to the Presidency, — had worked
without ceasing; now hardly past the prime of man
hood, with araple fortune, full of honors, he would
take the rest he had so laboriously earned.
Some time before he left Washington, he bought
a fine house in Nashville. The grounds cover a
whole square in the finest part of the city, known
since as "Polk Place." He went from the capital
to his home by the way of the Southern States.
He had schemed and iraperHled, if not bartered, his
integrity for the South, and in all the principal
cities, he received splendid ovations.
At New Orleans, he took a steamer up the Missi
sippi. It was the year that the cholera raged
throughout the entire valley. He had a slight form
of the dread disease on board the boat. He rallied,
however, reached home in good spirits, and at once
began to lay out his grounds, plan iraprovements,
project a tour to Europe, even went so far as to
engage a courier. That slight cholera attack had
enfeebled his systera, the disease seeraed to return
on him ; they didn't call it cholera, but chronic diar
rhoea. No alarra was felt for some days, but stHl

234 MRS. POLK.
the disease ran on, — medicine had no power to check
it. Fear began to creep into Mrs. Polk's heart, and
she sent to Columbia for the raan who had been his
physician for more than twenty years.
The disease was checked ; the hearts of all about
him bounded, and t^eir pulses thrHled with hope ; a
few days with good nursing and tonics, and all would
be well. The strange lassitude still hung about hira ;
he seemed to have no rallying power. His wife
watched him with anguish ; she could see his
strength go with the passing hours. His aged
mother, who lived in the family, would creep in,
throw herself upon her knees, and pray by his bed
side. An old man, who was a Methodist minister,
and a friend of the faraily, would often steal in, sit
by his side and read the Bible.
Mr. Polk said that he was not afraid to die, but
now that he was about to pass frora this world into
the unseen and unknown, he whispered that he
ivould like the rite of baptism, and alraost at the
last, his old friend administered it He died on the
fifteenth of June, fifty-three years of age.
This was the first great grief which had come into
Mrs. Polk's happy, prosperous life, — a widow before
she had rounded her forty-sixth year. Nearly forty
years have gone by since that fatal June day, and
still she lives at Polk Place. Tirae has softened her
grief, but society has lost its charm ; ever since, she

MRS. POLK. 235
has lived retired, and grows more and more asceti-
cally devout. As she longed for sorae corapanion-
ship in the lonely hours, full of shadows of the past,
she adopted a niece, who has ever since reraained
with her. •
She has always been treated with the respect and
distinction to which her dignity and high position
entitle her. For years, the Legislature in a body,
visited her on New Year's Day.
Delegations of Masons, Odd Fellows, Sons of
Temperance, and Merabers of the General Assera
bly of Presbyterians often seek for an introduction
to Polk Place, that they raay pay their respects to
its celebrated mistress.
President Cleveland, in his tour of the Western
States in 1887, had the honor of being received by
her, and of presenting his fair young wife, so rapidly
passing into history as one of the galaxy of brilliant
women of the White House, to which the aged lady
belongs. The calra, monotonous quiet into which Mrs.
Polk's life had settled, was broken by the Civil
War. All her sympathies were with the Confeder
ates ; with her birth and training it could hardly
have been otherwise.
Women of the North had little pity for their
Southern sisters ; could little realize how outraged
they felt, how their passions could rise to such a

236 MRS. POLK.
height, that if General Butler could have had a
decent apology for his indecent order, their violent
conduct gave it. To them the war was a war of
invasion, an invasion of their dearest rights. What
cared they for the grand old Union or fhe dear old
flag.' Their state had seceded, and they only longed
that their star should be stricken from its azure
folds. Husbands and sons had gone down to bloody
graves, and the victors trod their streets and sat
within their walls. Northern woraen raourned their
dead, but they should have thanked God that
they were neither tempted nor tried as Southern
women. In those troublous days, Mrs. Polk's exalted dig
nity never forsook her. She welcoraed the Confed
erate officers to her horae, bade them Godspeed in
their efforts for separation, and was buoyed by the
hope that success would crown their efforts in the
end. In February of 1862, she had the humHiation and
grief of seeing Nashville occupied by the Union
troops. . Murfreesboro, her early home, was a battle
field, and there too, victory was on the side of the
Union. When Sherman and other Union officers paid
their respects to her they were treated with polite
ness, perhaps a little cold and formal, but strict and
stately politeness still.

MRS. POLK. 237
The war swept away a part of Mrs. Polk's large
property, but she has been able to live at Polk Place
in the style to which she has been used. Congress
pays her the pension granted to the widows of the
Presidents.

MRS. TAYLOR.
One claiming the power of foretelling future
events, once whispered to Josephine that she would
one day be the Empress of France. In the dark
days of Robespierre, when the guillotine seemed
nearer than a crown, the prophecy buoyed her spirits,
and the hope of its fulfilment never faded from her
mind. Had a sibyl whispered in the ear of Miss Margaret
Smith, the daughter of a Maryland farmer, that she
would one day be the wife of a President of the
United States, and mistress of the White House,
she would have laughed in derision. In the dark
days of danger, which must come to a woman who
follows a soldier husband into the red man's land,
she would have thought it more likely that her scalp-
locks would float from the belt of a savage. The
belief in the fulfilment of such a prophecy would
have darkened her life. The position would have
had ho charm, even if she could have turned to it
from the altar, on her wedding day.
She was born in the latter part of the last cen
tury, when the colonies were just crystallizing into a
Union. She belonged to a good family, whose home
238

MRS. TAYLOR. 239
was on the estate where the father of Mrs. J. Q.
Adaras had formerly resided, in the rich farming
districts of Maryland. With other girls of her class,
she went to the village school ; at home she had a
thorough domestic training. To queen it over a_
humble home, with one she loved, make the raost of
small means, was the highest point to which the
girl's mind ever soared.
She had turned twenty when she first met Zach
ary Taylor; one, who was born in the wHderness,
near the site of the present city of LouisvHle, and
trained to frontier life. To avenge the bloody
ravages of the Indians, incited by the English, fired
the hearts of all the youth whose homes were sub
jected to their inroads.
Young Taylor never thought it to be the road to
fame, when he urged his father to help him to a
commission. At the time that he alraost despaired
of ever obtaining it, an elder brother, who was a
lieutenant, suddenly died. Through the aid of
Madison, who was a relative and at that tirae Sec
retary of State, the coramission was transferred to
the young Zachary, Jhen just twenty-four years of
age. He had met, loved, wooed, and now, on lieuten
ant's pay, married Miss Margaret Smith. He joined
the army at New Orleans and she followed him.
Were his home in a log-cabin, tent, or barracks there

240 MRS.. TAYLOR.
was hers. She would consent to no separation
that could be avoided. Babies came, but the migra
tory, tented life; often upon the trail of the savages,
was no place for babies. As soon as they could be
removed with safetjr, they were sent to her family
at the East, when of proper agg placed at boarding-
schools. Mother's love was not wanting, — tiie
struggle of parting was no light one, but her pres
ence was the solace of her husband ; she could con
tribute to his comfort, and she loved him more than
babies. In the beginning of the war of 18 12, Taylor, who
had been promoted to the rank of captain, was sent
to comraand a fort on the Wabash, v/hich Harrison
had built on his way to Tippecanoe. With only fifty
men, and a third of those ill, he was attacked by a
band of Indians, led by the brave Tecuraseh himself.
The horrors of that night could never be told in
words ; just before midnight the war-whoop rang,
the battle raged untH morning ; the sick and the
well fought on; nerved by the thought that it was
better to die than fall into the hands of the merci
less foe. The long hours of agony went by — at
sunrise, victory was on the side of the whites.
This was the young captain's first separate com
mand, and so bravely had he played his part, that he
was promoted to the rank of major.
After this, he was sent to a frontier post in the

MRS. TAYLOR. 24 1
West, and for three years saw no more active
service. At the close of the war, the army was
reduced ; he was not disraissed, but degraded in
rank, and this always touches a soldier's pride. He
resigned and went to farming.
Now the wife was happy ; she could have a
settled home with husband and children. It was a
short-lived happiness ; through friends his rank was
restored and he returned to the array ; was ordered
to Green Bay, in Michigan, where for years he led a
tedious, raonotonous life, away from society but
always cheered by the presence of his faithful,
happy Margaret.
In the Black Hawk war, he took an active but
subordinate part, and was promoted to the rank of
colonel. Once he had a comraand of fifty regulars and a
band of Illinois volunteers ; the latter insisted that
they were only enlisted to protect their own state.
Taylor believed that they were in the right, but as a
soldier he had no opinions. An order came in the
night for him to cross the border. The soldiers,
hearing of it, began to discuss the matter as if it
were optional.
Taylor quietly said : " Gentleraen and fellow-
citizens ; the word has, been passed on to rae frora
Washington to follow Black Hawk, and to take you
with me as soldiers. I mean to do both. There are

242 MRS. TAYLOR.
the flat-boats, drawn up on the shore ; here are
Uncle Sara's men, drawn up behind you on the
prairie." Taylor never indulged in erapty threats and the
men thought it safer to take to the boats. In a few
hours they were on the trail of the savage foe.
At the close of the war, he again sank into ob
scurity, defending the frontiers for twenty-four years.
His domestic happiness had hitherto been perfect ;
the one thought of his wife had ever been to minis
ter to his comfort. She would even prepare his food
with her own hands. If food were scarce, she would
see that there was no waste ; if poor, she, with the
rare skHl of a Maryland cook, could impart to it
some terapting flavor, and then the dainty neatness
with which it was served gave it an additional zest.
One son and three daughters had been born to
them, and now that they were grown and educated,
were sometiraes allowed to visit at the military post,
where the colonel was stationed.
Both he and his wife had a strong aversion to their
girls' marrying into the army, and leading the lives
they had led, — lives without a horae ; then, what
was a more serious thing, the lives of many of the
officers were far from correct. Business men were
the proper sort of husbands for their girls, and none
other would be countenanced.
While the colonel was away on a military tour of

MRS. TAYLOR. 243
inspection, Jefferson Davis, a young lieutenant, fresh
from West Point, raet the second daughter. Miss
Sarah, and made love to her. The girl was by sev
eral years the younger, coy, shy, covered with
blushes, yet his love tale was poured into willing
ears ; her eyes told what her tongue would not utter.
Parental consent was asked, and refused, decidedly
refused. Colonel Taylor was not given to changing his
mind, as the pair well knew. Jefferson Davis pro
posed an elopement, and the girl placed her hand in
his. How often does a shy, timid maiden astonish
her friends by fearlessly taking a step that would
appal many a bolder girl. Young Davis resigned,
and went to his home in Mississippi.
When the father returned, the pair were married
and gone. He was bitter in his wrath ; his girl was
wanting in maidenly dignity, in any sense of filial
duty. For young Davis, his scorn knew no bounds : he
was lost to all sense of honor ; he was no gentleman ;
he would not " touch his hand with a pair of tongs "
(his favorite expression'). A runaway marriage was
never to be condoned nor forgiven.
In a few months the young wife died, and the
father's heart had never softened towards her. His
shame at the marriage, and his grief at her death
only embittered him the more against the man who

244 MRS. . TAYLOR.
had robbed him. If one dared to plead his youth
and his love as an excuse, the father would only
shake his head and say, " No honorable man would
have done it."
In 1836, there was a fresh difficulty with the
Indians. Osceola was the son of an English trader
and a Seminole squaw. He had been left with his
mother, and, when grown to manhood, there was
nothing about hira that would suggest that he was
a half-breed. He married, and his wife was taken
from him, claimed as a slave. Burning with revenge,
he gathered a band of his tribe, and put to death a
garrison of more than a hundred raen. Soon after,
he was captured and placed in irons. His wrongs
pleaded for him, and he was released.
Indians are treacherous by nature, and these Sem
inoles had been so often wronged that they were not
safe neighbors. The United States government pro
posed to move them beyond the Mississippi, and most
of the chiefs had signed a treaty to that effect. The
mass of the Indians had no mind to go, and dgnied
that their chiefs had a right to sell their hunting-
grounds. Osceola took advantage of the tiraes and the anger
of his tribe, to stir up a war of resistance. He gath
ered seven hundred warriors and encamped in the
almost inaccessible swamps about Lake Okeechobee.
Colonel Taylor \y£^s recalled from the frontiers, to

MRS. TAYLOR. 245
subdue and remove these savages whom no treaty
could bind.
It was a position full of peril, and the miasma of
the swamps was even more to be dreaded than the
savages. _ With soldierly obedience he came, and
with soldierly skill he penetrated the swamps in the
very face of the foe. In less than three hours the
Indians were routed, with heavy loss on both sides.
In his official report, Taylor said : " Around Lake
Okeechobee, I passed through the most trying scenes
of my life." The victory and his gallantry were re
warded by the rank of general.
It has been said that Taylor never swore. The
fact was once stated in his presence : " Not often,"
said he, " but in the Everglades of Florida, where
heroes were battling and falling, I met a company of
Missouri troops, with their backs to the enemy.
Upon being questioned, they said that they were
ordered to the rear. ' You lie ? you scoundrels I '
I can't quite remember, but I think that there was
some pretty heavy cursing done on that day," he
added. When the suraraons to Florida came, Mrs. Taylor,
as usual, prepared- to go with her husband. There
was a cry from all her friends, — she was reckless, she
was foolhardy. . No persuasions nor arguments could
move her. In the barracks at Tampa she was going
to settle ; if her husband were killed, life would not

246 MRS. TAYLOR.
be worth having ; if he were wounded, she could
nurse him ; if not him, his brave men. Going ? of
course she was going ; and she went.
After the battle, besides the dead tbere were one
hundred and twelve wounded officers and soldiers, and
these were brought to Tampa. The work Mrs. Taylor
had foreseen had come, and bravely she performed her
part. She assumed the care of the hospital, bound
up wounds and soothed the suffering. Her skHl in
cooking was brought into full play ; her presence of
mind, her cheerful, even temper lightened all the
weary hours.
The Indians were too much broken to risk another
battle, but for two raore years General Taylor was
kept in the Everglades of Florida, then, at his own
request, he was relieved and stationed over the south
west Five happy years followed for Mrs. Taylor. The
faraHy headquarters were at Baton Rouge, where the
barracks were more corafortable than any to which
she had ever been used ; yet she turned frora them
to a picturesque cottage formerly occupied by the
Spanish Commandant, which pleased her fancy. It
had only four rooms, but there was a wide veranda
upon all sides ; better than all a little plot of ground
for a garden. The house was in a tumbledown con
dition, but after sorae repairs, she and her daughter.
Miss Betty, transformed it into one of the cosiest,

MRS. TAYLOR. 247
pleasantest horaes in all that region. To please
them, General Taylor bought the house and a large
piece of land adjoining.
With a house of her own, a kitchen garden which
she could watch and tend, a small dairy, it seemed to
Mrs. Taylor like the home life of her girlhood, for
which she had so longed.
Alas ! a cloud was gathering, which was to dissi
pate all her happiness and in time break up her
home. General Taylor had chosen this post, that he
might give his family a settled home, hoping to com
bine plantation life with his military duties.
Mr. Polk's plan for redeeming his pledge for a
lyiexican war, was to shield his administration frora
responsibHity or blame and throw it upon the United
States troops, hoping that by tricky, ambiguous
orders, they would provoke Mexicans to an attack.
A man less honest than General Taylor might have
fallen into the snare. He would ride into the very
jaws of death if such were his orders, questioning
neither the right nor the wrong ; without orders he
would reraain as fixed as if the jaws of death had
shut down upon him.
With one so intractable, government was obliged
to show its hand and a direct order to advance to the
Rio Grande was given.
The calm, happy life in the Spanish cottage was

248 MRS. TAYLOR.
at an end. The husband, who for so many years,
had contended with savages, must now enter upon a
war with a civilized. Christian nation — a war of
invasion, where the wife could not follow.
The barracks at Baton Rouge, which had been
nearly empty, were now crowded with young officers'
wives, who were almost hysterical at parting with
their husbands, going to battle for the first time.
The general's wife and Miss Betty put aside their
own grief, flitted about the quarters, listened to the
story of each one, and sympathized with all. The
brave front and cheerful words of their superiors,
shamed women who had given themselves up to
clamorous grief.'
Mrs. Taylor was a devout member of the Episcopal
Church, and one of the chief regrets of her life had
been that she was deprived of its services. For the
first time in her garrison life she was at a military
post, crowded with women from her own rank in life.
With the townsfolks and the officers' wives, enough
-people could be gathered to warrant the opening of a
chapel. Under her supervision a room was fitted up
in one of the garrison buHdings ; when there was no
rector, the service was read.
That little chapel work has never ended. Years
after Mrs. Taylor died, the society buHt a church,
which is fiourishing in Baton Rouge to-day.
The Mexicans said that the raove of the United

MRS. TAYLOR. 249
States troops to the banks of the Rio Grande was an
open declaration of war ; still they raade no attack.
Guns ready shotted were placed opposite Mataraoras
and its harbor blockaded ; still the President main
tained that the Mexicans had no cause for hostflities.
Mexicans and a great many other people were of a
different raind. A sraall force crossed the river to
take a look at the doings of the United States troops
and they in turn went to see why the Mexicans had
crossed. Of course, a skirmish carae out of it ; blood was
spHled and raen were captured.
Mr. Polk had now the state.of things that pleased
hira. Mexicans had invaded the soil of the United
States and shed the blood of its soldiers. No hold
ing back now — artillery raen behind the shotted
guns could blaze away.
Soon carae the news of the victory on the field of
Palo Alto, followed by that of Resaca de la Palma.
American cocks crowed, the national bird flapped its
wings and shrieked. " On, to the Halls of the Mon
tezumas," shouted the people.
Taylor, who had been buried nearly all his life on
the frontiers amid savages, was the hero of the
day. People began to be curious about hira. Well, he
had a good, honest face, but his figure was nothing
in his favor ; he was durapy, short in the body, and

250 MRS. TAYLOR.
his legs too short for his body. Never but once had
he tried to set off his person by fine feathers.
Commodore Conner, stationed in the gulf to co
operate with General Taylor, proposed to pay him a
visit. The commodore, if not the dude of the navy,
was noted for his nicety in dress. The general's
roundabouts, trousers tucked in boots, and coarse
straw hat, with brim flappihg about his ears, made
him equally noted for his style. A visit from a
grandee of the navy put him all in a flutter.
He had an ill-fitting military suit at the bottom of
his chest, but his oldest soldiers had never seen it
worn. Now it was to be donned, as his guest would
of course be in full uniform, surrounded by his offi
cers. Uncomfortable and ill at ease the general sat.
The comraodore had all the instincts of a gentle
raan ; arrayed in plain white drilling, he walked
quietly and alone into the general's tent. It would
have been hard to tell which was the more astonished
but it was the .general who was disconcerted.
In the autupin, the bloody battle of Monterey was
fought ; the town and the military stores fell into the
hands of the Araericans.
After this, most of the troops were withdrawn and
sent to General Scott, who was making an advance
on the city of Mexico ; for five months Taylor re
mained inactive at Monterey, simply defending the
place.

MRS. TAYLOR. 25 I
Finally the governraent sent on reinforcements
and the general made an onward moveraent. Fifty
mfles from the town, he was met by a Mexican mes
senger, bearing a flag of truce and demanding a sur
render ; informing him that his sraall force of five
thousand raen was surrounded by twenty-one thou
sand Mexicans, coramanded by Santa Anna hiraself.
"General Taylor never surrenders," was his
answer. To his officers he said : " were they twice
that number, it would make no difference." To his
troops, " soldiers, I intend to stand here, not only so
long as a man remains, but so long as a piece of a
man is left."
His intentions known, he made his preparations
for a battle, which lasted for ten hours with doubtful
results. The general sat through it all, in an exposed posi
tion, on his white horse, nursing his leg thrown over
the pommel of his saddle. His staff could not pre
vail upon hira to move away. The entire left wing
of his army was turned, and all seeraed lost. The
Mexicans shouted themselves hoarse, as if the vic
tory were won ; for the tirae it really was.
Before General Taylor made his advance across the
Sabine, he had called for volunteers from Mississippi
and Louisiana. The war was popular at the South.
Sons of the first families in Mississippi had forraed
a regiment and chosen Jefferson Davis for their

252 MRS. TAYLOR.
colonel. In the first battle, he had been slightly
wounded, but had figured on every field. By some
tacit understanding, he and the general never met.
At the narrow pass of Buena Vista, when all was
chaos and the day seeraed lost, Taylor thundered to
his flying troops to turn and advance again. Colo
nel Davis, who handled his Mississippi Rifles in so
masterly a way that they were the first to re-form,
proudly standing his ground, appealed to other regi
ments to " stay and re-form behind that wall," point
ing to his Mississippians.
Giving the Southern yell, a dash was made, Davis
setting the example of intrepidity and recklessness
of personal danger ; the band fought like the Titans,
the Mexicans said, like devils. He who had been so
"dauntless in love," proved that he was no "dastard
in war." Perhaps the thought that he was fighting
under the eye of the father of his dead wife, who
had coupled his name with dishonor, nerved his
arm. The astonished Mexicans, unprepared for the on
slaught, had broken and fled.
Half of the brave Mississippians lay stretched
upon the ground. The bold colonel was severely
wounded in the early part of the action, but sat his
horse steadily till the day was won, and refused to
delegate any part of his duties to his subordinate
officers.

MRS. TAYLOR. 253
The general had watched the band in the greatest
excitement, now he fairly danced with joy, yet the
tears were streaming down his cheeks — the victory
was won, his honor was saved.
On that bloody ground, Zachary Taylor and Jef
ferson Davis met for the first time. Taylor era-
braced him as a son, and the tears of the two
mingled for the young wife whose body had lain
for so many years on the banks of the Mississippi.
Success had made the war immensely popular.
Cass said it would not hurt the United States to
swaHow Mexico whole. Indeed, so expansive were
the ideas of the administration that the people would
hardly have been astonished to have seen South
America served as a second course, — the waters of
Magellan, the wine of the banquet, iced by the
Antarctic Ocean.
The work of " Rough-and-Ready," as his soldiers
lovingly called him, was done, and he came back to
the Spanish cottage in triumph. His immense
popularity suggested to Whig politicians that he
might be an available candidate in the coming
presidential campaign.
When the proposition of raising him to the high
est civfl office was first broached to him, he promptly
pronounced it as too absurd to be thought of for
a raoraent, — declared his unfitness. The simple-
minded old soldier was overruled, and at last yielded.

?54 MRS. TAYLOR.
on condition that he should be required to give no
pledges. He alarmed and astonished his sponsors
by allowing a letter to be printed, in which he frankly
confessed that he had only "crude irapressions on
matters of policy," but that he considered .himself
"in the hands of the people," the people's candidate,
and if elected the " people's President."
Fearlessly outspoken as he was, he became the
nominee of the Whig party.
The rabid ones, terraed " Conscience Whigs,"
wouldn't vote for him because he owned slaves,
made a split in the party, and set up a candidate of
their own — no less a personage than the ex- Pres
ident, Martin Van Buren, which seeraed almost
grotesque. Webster said that the Whig nomination was one
"not fit to be made," termed the nominee "an igno
rant frontier colonel," as he really was.
If the buzzing of the presidential bee began to
have music for General Taylor's ears, it had none for
his wife ; she was more bitter in -her opposition than
the Abolitionists, said that his fixed habits would not
perrait him to live under the constraints of a life at
the capital, that it was a plot to deprive her of his
society, and shorten his life by unnecessary care and
responsibility. His victories and his sterling integrity made him
the successful candidate. Mrs. Taylor's private

MRS. TAYLOR. 255
home, whieh had been her delight, was private no
longer. Friends and politicians and the curious
thronged every room, which made her life a burden.
. The general resigned his place in the army, the
Spanish cottage was given up, and the family pro
ceeded to Washington.
General Taylor raust have overcome his objections
to array men as husbands, for his eldest daughter
married an army surgeon, and Miss Betty his third
and favorite daughter, had recently married Major
BHss, his chief-of-staff in the Mexican War, and
was another West Pointer.
Mrs. Taylor declined having anything to do with-
the receptions or hospitalities of the Executive
Mansion. She selected rooms for herself, which
best suited her ideas of housekeeping, and, as in
barracks, attended to the personal comforts of her
husband. Her mode of living, and smoking a corn
cob pipe were jeered at by the opposition, hoping
thereby to lessen the popularity of the President.
Araericans are given to bowing down to military
heroes, even if they be unlettered and unpolished.
Old Rough-and-Ready was the hero of the day, and
if levees must be held and state dinners must be
given he had a young and an attractive daughter to
receive and dispense hospitality at his table.
The inaugural procession was raore iraposing than
that of any of his predecessors. The President-

256 MRS. TAYLOR.
elect rode in a carriage drawn by four gray horses,
accompanied by Mr. Polk. One hundred young
gentlemen, the ilite of the District of Columbia,
formed a body-guard to keep off the crowd. He
was preceded by twelve volunteer companies, and
followed by various clubs and the students of the
Jesuit College.
The inaugural was nearly inaudible, but it was
rather alarming to the hotspurs of the South. Re
ferring to the dangers which threatened the Union,
he raised his voice and emphatically said : "What
ever dangers may threaten it, I shall stand by it,
and maintain it in its integrity, to the full extent of
the obligations imposed and the power conferred upon
me by the Constitution."
The shy bride, Mrs. Bliss, made her deb'lLt into
Washington society at the three inaugural balls ;
dressed in simple white, with a rose in her dark hair,
she took all hearts by storm ; it was said that she
had the "artlessness of a rustic belle and the grace
of a duchess." Her married name seemed for
gotten, she was only the daughter of Zachary
Taylor, a part and parcel of the nation — sweet
Miss Betty — "One of the Graces," said Miss Fred-
erika Bremer, who was present.
The second attraction was the Russian Count de
Bodisco, with his beautiful American wife. The
count was resplendent in the uniform of an iraperial

MRS. TAYLOR. 257
chamberlain, with the insignia of a number of
orders of knightnood. The countess wore the dress,
in which she had been presented to the Czar, the
year before. It was of white satin, erabroidered
with gold, and over it she wore a crimson velvet
polonaise, with a sweeping train, also embroidered
with gold, while her crimson velvet head dress was
resplendent with diamonds.
It was a dazzling scene to the President, and he
honestly said: "I have been so long among Indians
and Mexicans, that I hardly know how to behave
myself, surrounded by so many lovely woraen."
Party politics ran high, even the opening session
had been inauspicious ; for three weeks there had
been a wrangle in the House over the speakership,
and slavery had been the question upon which it had
all hinged.
California had donned seven-league boots and was
a-clanging and a-whanging away at the gates of the
Union, iraperiously asking to be a star, and she
wouldn't be a star if a son of Ham walked in bond
age upon her soil.
She had made a constitution that pleased her, and
she would have none other.
The President favored her admission, uncondition
ally, without any of Henry Clay's concessions to
make it palatable to the South. He was a slave
holder and his sympathies were with his class. He

258 MRS. TAYLOR.
wrote his son-in-law, Jefferson Davis, that if any
atterapt were raade to deprive the Slave States of
their constitutional rights, he was willing that South
erners should "act proraptly, boldly, and decisively,
with arms in their hands if necessary, as the Union
in that case will be blown to atoms, or will be no
longer worth preserving."
The honesty of the " ignorant frontier colonel "
seemed better than wisdom ; he was just as firm to
maintain the rights of the Free States, and when the
South made her usual threat, with something of the
Jackson ring and tone, he said : " Disunion is
treason ; " and if Southerners atterapted to carry it
out, "they should be dealt with by law as they
deserved, and executed."
When Texas claimed the control of New Mexico,
and with threats demanded the withdrawal of United
States troops, the President's order to the military
commandant was, " repel force by force," and he
promised, if need were, he would be there himself.
The South was alarmed. Her sons had schemed
and worked to bring about a war with Mexico, had
fought and bled that the territory wrenched from
her might enlarge their own borders — now it was
eluding them and was only to increase the Free
States and add to their power. They denounced the
President as a traitor to the South.
Burning words and fiery eloquence burst from the

MRS. TAYLOR. 259
lips of the giants. Calhoun attacked Benton, and he
was not slow in hitting back. Such was the din,
that honest Zachary Taylor said it was far more
trying to his nerves than tracking savages or fight
ing Mexicans ; nothing decisive -came of it, however ;
the government didn't fall to pieces, though at times
it seemed as if it must.
The first year of the administration wore slowly
away. The bitter political contest had rather inter
fered with social enjoyments. On the fourth of
March, Miss Betty held a grand reception in honor
of the inauguration.
She had become a social power, and it was said
that in manner, grace, ease, and conversation she
could vie with any "to the manner born."
" Rough-and-Ready " would wear clothes much too
large for hira (to be corafortable, he said), but he had
acquired some courtly and dignified airs; yet there
was a harassed and tired look on his face ; sleepless
nights were his portion. Never were truer words
written than, —
" Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown."
The Fourth of July was chosen for laying the
corner-stone of the Washington monuraent. The day
was the warraest of that warm season. The Presi
dent rode in the procession in an open barouche, sat
upon the stand during the oration, speeches, and for-

260 MRS. TAYLOR.
malities of the occasion. He once remariied that he
never felt such heat in Florida or in Mexico.
In his active, outdoor life, there had been little
need of prudence in eating and drinking, but in the
changed life and weakened system, a cup of cold
water could WQrk bitter results. In less than an
hour paroxysms of pain began. From the first he
foresaw the end.
There was a touching pathos in his words : " I
should not be surprised if this were to end in death.
I did not expect to meet what has beset me since my
elevation to the presidency. God knows I have tried
to fulfil what I thought to be my honest duty ; but I
have been misjudged, my motives have been miscon
strued, and my feelings grossly betrayed."
His illness brought dismay to the hearts of the
people ; the story of Tippecanoe was to be repeated,
— killed by the politicians.
It was Webster who, almost overcome with emo
tion, in low, thrilling tones, announced to the Senate
that "a great misfortune threatened the land." The
great man had been wroth at Taylor's nomination ;
but for months he had been in close contact with the
"frontier colonel," and realized that only a great man
could be so modest, so pure, so sincere, so brave, so
true to his principles, so spotless in his integrity ;
if not a politician, a statesman, he was something
higher, nobler.

MRS. TAYLOR. 26 1
The great man had been received and welcomed
as a friend in the home circle, had learned to honor
the patient, faithful wife, whose manners and life
showed the gentlewoman and the Christian.
There was soraething piquant about Miss Betty ;
she would frankly look into his eyes, and talk with
the social abandon of a cultured woman ; mingled
with it all there was an honest sincerity, often some
thing unexpectedly wise, soraething beyond her years,
which charraed, — made her unlike other society
women. Five days and nights drew out their weary length,
and the end came. It seemed as if Mrs. Taylor had
had the gift of prophecy when the subject of the
presidency was first spoken of in the Spanish cot
tage, and in bitterness had said : " It is a plot to take
him from me." Kneeling in agony at his bedside,
she saw it coming true, — at times she would lie in
sensible. Clasping her hand and looking into her eyes, he
said, " I am not afraid to die. I have tried to do my
duty." He never spoke again. The woman, who
had never flinched at parting, when he had gone to
the battlefield, who had instflled bravery and Chris
tian resignation into so many stricken hearts, gave
way to hysterical grief, — shriek followed shriek, and
Miss Betty's case was alraost as pitiable.
His eulogist likened hira to the noble old Roraans,

262 MRS. TAYLOR.
who put their stamp upon the eternal city, and made
her what she was in the days of her palmy grandeur.
His forraer military superior. General Scott, said he
left behind him not an eneray in the world. Politi
cians had broken but had never bent him.
His death was announced in the Capitol by the
toHing of the bell of the Departraent of State, and
the peal was echoed from every church steeple in
the city. The remains lay in state in the East Room
of the Executive Mansion. General Scott, in a rich
uniform, with yellow plumes waving from his high
chapeau, and mounted on a spirited horse, com
manded the large railitary -force which escorted the
cortege to the Congressional burial-ground. A high
canopy of black sHk, with a gflt eagle draped with
crape, towered above the funeral car, which was
drawn by eight white horses, each led by a negro
groom dressed in a white Oriental costume. " Old
Whitey," who had carried General Taylor through
the Mexican War, was led directly behind the funeral
car, having the boots of the dead soldier in the stir
rups, and formed the most touching feature of the
procession. Not a day would Mrs. Taylor linger after the pom
pous funeral was over, nor would she ever speak of
Washington or her horae in the White House.
She had no heart or desire to go back to the Span
ish cottage, which had been the only house that in

MRS. TAYLOR. 263
her married life she had called home. The friends of
her youth lived in Kentucky, and to them Colonel
Bliss and Miss Betty took her. Her grief was too
fresh to bear their loving sympathy, and she soon
went to her son, whose home was in Pascagoula,
Louisiana. Time always softens grief, and might hers, but two
years were not enough for one so stricken, and at the
end of that period she, too, passed away.
Mrs. Bliss, whose home was in Winchester, Vir
ginia, soon became a widow. She has since forraed
a second marriage, and still lives there.
She was the second bride of the Executive Man
sion and araong its fair raistresses, crowned with the
halo of youth, the daughter of the old soldier will
ever hold an honored place, albeit she queened it but
a season. Richard, the son of General Taylor, joined the
Confederates, and took a leading part in the Civil
War.

MRS. FILLMORE.
Miss Abigail Powers was the youngest daughter
of a Baptist clergyman, who died when she was an
infant. The wife and mother was left penniless, and
for years there was a weary struggle with poverty.
Later, she went, for economy's sake, with her broth
ers to the western part of New York, into what was
then a frontier county.
The little daughter, now ten years old, was remark
ably precocious and arabitious, and the mother did
what she could to foster her love of learning. There
was a private school, or rather an academy in the
neighborhood, but the faraily incorae was too small
for the girl to avail herself of it.
The time came, when though a mere chHd, Miss
Abigail was thought competent to teach the suramer
viHage school. With the money she earned she was
able tp gratify her eager longing to go to the academy
in winter. She made such wonderful progress, that
she was soon fitted for a higher position, and able to
assist in the support of the famfly. When she was
twenty-one, her mother married a second time, and
she made her horae in the faniily of a dearly beloved
friend. Here she met a young man, more than two
264

MRS. FILLMORE. 265
years her junior ; his youth, too, had been spent in
poverty, and like Miss Abigail, he was a great reader
and craved an education.
At fourteen, he had been bound out by his father
to learn the trade of a clothier and fuller, but every
spare moment was given to books and study. At
nineteen, the date of his acquaintance with Miss
Powers, he made a fine, manly appearance, was dig
nified and gentleraanly beyond his years.
Miss Powers, whose two years seniority made her
feel as if she could be his mentor, loaned him books
and rather directed his studies.
She was a perfect blonde, her skin of dazzling
fairness, and luxuriant auburn hair fell about her face
in curls ; her person was above middle height, and
her presence very commanding.
The boy at first revered and then loved the supe
rior woman, who took such an interest in his studies
and his aspirations. We cannot tell how the wooing
began or went on, but the end is a matter of history.
There was a lawyer in the town, who had noticed
the studious, hard-working boy, and thought he gave
proraise of greatness ; as his raeans were ample and
his heart large, he loaned him money on easy terms
to buy his time of his master, and took him into his
office to study law. The boy was grateful, but the
debt sat heavfly upon him ; he was too manly to be a
tax on any one. In the winter months he taught

266 MRS. FILLMORE.
school, did copying to help himself along, and studied
nights. His, progress was such, that in two years,
his benefactor advised him to go to Buffalo for greater
advantages. He walked there with only four dollars
in his pocket. Two more years were spent teaching
by day and studying by night.
A red-letter day came in his history when he was
twenty-three. Though in some way short of the
usual requirements, by special favor he was admitted
to the bar.
For three years he had the uphill work which a
young lawyer usually has to face — work which,
through poverty, was never lightened by the sight
of the woman he loved, though only parted by one
hundred and fifty miles ; an ardent lover would have
walked it. Abigail Powers and Millard Fillmore were
true to each other, but had no romance in their cora
positions, — all their virtues were solid ; were what
are called level-headed. Pity, perhaps, there are not
more like them, even if they do seera prosy and un
interesting. Used to poverty and drudgery all their lives, they
joined their fortunes, hardly hoping for anything raere
than an honest living, certainly never drearaing of
fame. When clients were scarce, MHlard with his own
hands worked upon a small frame house : when it
was done, Abigail did the housework, in addition

MRS. FILLMORE. 267
to the school duties, which she had never re
signed. She had helped her husband up, and her intellec
tual strength was, even now, his chief stimulus.
Without a particle of brilliancy, his integrity and
untiring industry perhaps stood him in better stead
and carried him on to fame. A Buffalo lawyer,
crowded with clients, offered him a partnership.
Thither he took his wife, and there a son and a
daughter were born to them. Increasing prosperity,
freedom from debt, and the polished, cultivated so
ciety, to which she had been unused, made life very
charming to Mrs. Fillraore.
Mr. Ffllmore was chosen a member of the State
Legislature. His politics were rather lukewarm, but
he cast his vote with the Whigs. What little of the
lion there was in him was roused by the bill for abol
ishing imprisonraent for debt. He brought all his
legal acumen to bear upon it, and spoke with a gleam
of eloquence.
After serving the State for three years, he was
elected to Congress. He made his dcb^At in the year,
that South Carolina declared the tariff null and void,
and advised by her great leader, threatened to leave
the Union. Jackson, foaming at the mouth, was
storming about like a roaring lion, vowing he would
hang every senator from the State (always sorry that
he didn't). Webster was battling secession, on the

268 MRS. FILLMORE.
floor of the Senate, with Hayne. The Kentucky
giant was putting aside his chances for the presi
dency, which no man ever coveted more, nobly say
ing, " I would rather be right than be President,"
and manufacturing his wonderful cement to pour
upon the cracks in the Union, which brought order
out of confusion and quiet out of din. Fillmore's
strong, good sense taught him that it would be un
becoming for a new and a lesser light to open his
mouth, and with wonder he watched the course of
affairs, and in silence gave his vote.
General Taylor's mflitary record had tossed him
on the highest wave of popularity, and the politicians
thought that the tide would sweep him into the,
seat of the chief magistrate. He knew nothing of
statesmanship, had had no interest in politics, had
not even voted for forty years, held slaves, which
raised such a din among the Abolitionists that it
split the party — was only a soldier whose prowess
had added lustre to our arras, had enlarged our ter
ritory, and opened to us a mine of wealth, and was
an honest man ; not that this latter quality was
a recommendation, but rather a stumbling-block
. to the politicians ; however, they were adepts in
the potter's craft, and thought his simplicity and
ignorance would combine to make the most malle
able of clay. Well, they counted without their host.
With this peculiar candidate, it was thought wise

MRS. FILLMORE. 269
to have in the second place a man who had heard of
Coke and Littleton, and it was also wise to please
the Empire State, by choosing one of her sons.
They were a little more wary in their selection than
when they tacked Tyler to Tippecanoe. The solid
qualities of Fillmore had no magnetic power, but
were a good makeweight to the popular nominee,
so the Whig banners were flung to the breeze, em
blazoned with the names of Taylor and Ffllmore.
The " Little Magician " had lost his cunning, and
couldn't pull the wires into shape for the Free
Soilers; Cass, the Southern nominee, was nowhere.
The Whig ticket triumphed.
It did seem as if Pandora's box had been opened
and that, for the first time, even Hope had escaped.
Mr. Ffllmore succeeded Calhoun as President of
the Senate. If he had not Calhoun's brains, he was
younger, had a splendid presence,, and then he had
a finer sense of the dignity of the place. Calhoun had
clairaed that when the senators lost their terapers
and vented their wrath upon each other in abusive
language, the chair had no right to interfere, but
Fillmore claimed that he had that right and would
use it, if he had to reverse the whole order of things.
In cool blood, the senators felt that he was right, and
they approved and endorsed him.
In sixteen months the politicans had paved the
way for the second to become the first.

270 MRS. FILLMORE.
Mrs. Fillmore, like Mrs. Taylor, shrank from the
social duties of her position ; was reserved in her
intercourse with strangers. She would preside at a
state dinner, but like Mrs. Taylor, she had a daughter
whom she too, pressed to the front.
Miss Mary Abigafl Fillmore had been even a more
precocious chfld than her mother, — had all the practi
cal, solid qualities of both her parents. Born in Buf
falo, after her father's prosperity and public life began,
she had every advantage ; was subjected in child
hood to the excellent driU of the public schools ;
later, private tutors were employed for the higher
branches, music, drawing, and the languages. To
finish her off, she was sent to Mrs. Sedgwick's faraous
boarding-school at Lenox, was a classmate and friend
of Miss Harriet Hosmer, and at that tirae showed as
much taste'and talent for sculpture as Miss Hosmer
herself. There was no frivolity about her ; when
oni}' seventeen, she had mature views on the subject
of self-reliance, independence, and woman's ability to
earn her own living. That she might earn hers she
proposed to fit herself to be a teacher, and that she
might teach according to rule, she would go to the
State Normal School. They would only admit her
upon the pledge that she would use her knowledge
for a stated period in the service of the State.
Though her father was vice-president of the United
States, she served her time, and, to fulfil her con-

MRS. FILLMORE. 271
tract, took a position in one of the public schools of
Buffalo. When General Taylor died, the State waived its
right to the services of a daughter of the President
of the United States, and she joined her mother at
Washington. At the time, Mrs. FHlraore was in
mourning for her sister, when that was over she
sprained her ankle, and as she had no inclination or
qualification to be a society leader she leaned upon
her self-reliant daughter. The girl of eighteen
seemed older than Miss Betty, who was five years
her senior. She could speak French with the accent
of a native Parisian, had marvellous skfll upon the
piano and harp, and private musical soirees were
among the chief pleasures of the family.
With the exception of the wives of the two
Adamses there had been no literar^^ or learned
woraen in the White House. The first had lived in
the day of small things and had found it difficult to
get wood to heat, or candles to light the nation's
mansion, — would as soon have thought of asking for
the moon as for a library.
The second Mrs. Adams had brought and taken
away what was needed for her raental refreshment.
When the Fillmores came, there was a Bible, and
alraost literally nothing raore. Mrs. Fillraore and
Miss Mary Abigail had been used to maps, encylo-
psedias, dictionaries, everything that makes a well-

272 MRS. FILLMORE.
stocked library, and of turning to them every hour of
the day. The place seemed like an arid desert. To
remedy this, the President asked an appropriation of
Congress, which was granted.
The ladies selected the books and placed them in
the oval room upstairs, with Miss Mary's harp and
piano. One room, at least, was like home. Once a
week there was a morning reception, an evening
levee, a state dinner, and sometimes two ; if more
were done, it was in the form of little private rausical
parties for their own pleasure ; these, Mrs. Fillraore
enjoyed. The political contest waxed fiercer and fiercer ;
Calhoun had died, but South Carolina was as high
and mighty without hira as with hira. The rampant
Abolitionists of the North were enough to try the
temper of all the saints in the calendar (the South
erners were no saints) ; they didn't inherit slaves,
didn't own slaves, so they stood throwing stones at
those who did.
What still more exasperated the South was that
George Thorapson, terraed an English philanthropist,
finding no lUrohgS to redress at horae, had come to
Araerica and was welcoraed by the Yankees, and his
object was to overthrow the peculiar institution of
the South, where he was dubbed as the " foreign
hireling." Patriots and statesmen were at their wits' end.

MRS. FILLMORE. 273
Again Clay carae to the front with his wonderful
ceraent and tided us over ; coiled bands about the
Union, that held it through another decade, but the
process almost rent the land in twain ; each measure
had to be haggled over, and each settled separately.
Clay counted them off upon the fingers of his left
hand as the five bleeding wounds of the nation,
Benton sarcastically saying, that there would be more
bleeding wounds if Clay had had more fingers ; the
great Pacificator was almost at his last gasp, yet
never so. grand as when he fought through the
" Omnibus Bill " to save the Union, which proved
after all only a temporary truce.
California's star floated in the blue, free, as her
people vowed from the first that it should.
To appease the South for the loss of something
which she claimed as her right, the Fugitive Slave
Law was passed. The Abolitionists and a good many
beside, just howled. Fillmore was cold-blooded and
cold-hearted — had no sentiment with which to con
tend, yet he had no special liking for the business of
returning runaway slaves to their raasters, but that it
should be done by United States troops, if need were,
was a law of the land, and he had sworn to execute
the laws, and execute them he would and he did.
One display of his power was raade in Boston. A
" man hunter " as he was called, had come to ihe
North and a fugitive slave naraed Shadrach had been

274 MRS. FILLMORE.
caught and while under examination in the court-.
roora had been forcibly taken, by a crowd of his own
race, frora the hands of the deputy raarshal of the
United States. Had every white raan in Massachu
setts taken arras and marched upon the South there
could not have been more excitement nor indigna
tion. The President called upon the civfl and mflitary
power — upon all good citizens of the Free' States —
to assist in enforcing the law, and asked of Congress
more extensive power in calling out the militia.
It did seem as if the South might have kept quiet,
while the President of the United States, with an
army at his back, was battling for their rights, making
sure that they should have justice, if it were justice,
meted out to them.
Toombs, in triumph said, the day would come
when he would call the roH of his slaves frora Bunker
Hill Monuraent. The Abolitionists, roused to fury,
nerved by thinking that they were doing God's service,
declared that there was a higher law than that made
in Washington, so, as far as they dared, they evaded,
contravened it, made " underground railways," beck
oned slaves on and hustled them through. Many of
these law-breakers were of the stock frpm which the
martyrs were made and would have died for their
principles a martyr's death. The siege lasted as
long as that of old Troy — then " Liberty and Union "
were (but not forever), two and separable.

MRS. FILLMORE. 275
After the hearty meal off of Mexican spoils, which.
to be sure had been but ashes in their raouths, the
South thought Cuba would be but a bon-bon, and
she would like the merit of taking it. Ffllmore
afterwards avowed that he thought it to be the
" manifest destiny of our government to embrace the
whole of the North American Continent," but so
long as he represented the majesty of the United
States, he was as strong against stealing Cuba, as he
had been in the rendition of slaves.
Somehow, through the connivance of the collector
of New Orleans, an armed force got away, led by
Lopez, a Venezuelan. Had he been a native of the
United States and succeeded, he would probably
have ridden in a triumphal chariot right into the
Executive Mansion. As it was, he was garroted,
and nobody pitied him. Those who were not gar
roted were taken to Spain and tasted the quality of
Spanish prisons. When Spanish wrath cooled, they
were released, and the United States government
paid their passage home.
The great Hungarian, Kossuth, came to America
in Fillmore's reign, and pleaded the cause of his coun
try. The President gave him a welcome and a piece
of his heart, but was as true as steel to his oath.
The patriot won the people's sympathies, and when
he issued doHar-bonds which he pledged himself to
redeem when Hungary was free, thousands took

2/6 MRS. FILLMORE.
them, hardly looking for their redemption, but rather
as souvenirs of the illustrious guest.
Calhoun, Clay, and Webster had died since the
election of Taylor and Ffllmore, and the nation
mourned as if its greatness had passed away.
Mr. Ffllmore had the honor of sending Perry on
the famous expedition to Japan, opening the ports of
that mysterious land for the first time.
Since, the Mikado, whose face could not then be
looked upon by his own nobles, has shaken hands
with an ex-President of the United States. Verily,
times are not as they were.
It is customary for a retiring President to leave
the Executive Mansion before his successor comes,
but Mrs. Fiflmore, with rare delicacy and a woman's
sympathy, remained to give a welcome and smooth
the way for her heart-broken successor, Mrs. Pierce.
The Ffllmores went to Willard's Hotel, intending
to go on a tour through the Southern states before
returning to Buffalo, but Mrs. Fillmore fell ill, and
died before the month closed.
For a year Miss Mary presided over her father's
bouse. At the home of her grandmother, where she
had gone for a short visit, she died of cholera, so
suddenly, that all was over before her father and
brother could reach her, though tbey were but
twenty miles away.
The presidency seems shorn of its honors, when it

MRS. FILLMORE. 277
comes frora the death of the chosen man, and Mr.
Fiflmore had a strong ambition for the real thing.
Twice he was nominated, but signally failed. To
secure a second term, it was said that he used the
patronage of the Federal government, but there
seemed to be no magnetism in the man. Few
doubted the purity or the sincerity of his inten
tions in performing the duties of his administration.
He left, with the country at peace and prosperous,
yet, history rather stamps ^his term as inglorious, if
not a failure, and the ladies were no social success.
The carriage and horses presented by friends were
sold and converted into a silver service.
He was enthusiastically received in a tour through
the Southern states, on account of his action in the
rendition of slaves; and in the presidential campaign
that section had given him her entire strength.
Two years later he travefled in Europe, — was at
Rome, when his name was placed at the head of the
Know-Nothing ticket.
In 1858, he married Mrs. Caroline Mcintosh, of
Albany, a lady of culture and great wealth.
He took no very decided stand in the Civil War,
— was rather classed among the Copperheads.
He died in March, 1874, in his seventy-fifth year.

MRS. PIERCE.
Miss Jane A pleton was the daughter of the
Rev. Jesse Appleton, D.D., President of Bowdoin
College. She was reared in a home of perfect re
finement, and in no town of New England is there
more cultured society than in Brunswick, or greater
advantages for education.
She was born physically delicate, and her mental
structure was of the finest sort. As one reads what
little is known of her, it seems as if she were too
fine for the roughness of this world ; was better fitted
for the days when Eve innocently roamed the Garden
of Eden — before the serpent had asked her to eat an
apple. If she had faults and frailties, they have not
come down in history ; she is always spoken of as
one altogether lovely — one to be loved at home ; yet,
she made no special impress upon society, and was
too sensitive and shrinking for her own happiness.
If one inquire about her in Concord, where she
spent most of her raarried life, they can only tell you
that she had the narae of being a very refined, quiet
woman, rather shunning society ; one says that she
had rare beauty and many accoraplishraents. What
ever she was, she won the love of one of the most
278

MRS. PIERCE. 279
fascinating of men, and his devotion and tenderness
never wavered.
Franklin Pierce was the son of a prominent New
Hampshire raan, one who served his state in many
important offices, rising even to the highest. The
boy was the sixth of a large family of children. He
was a bright, handsome lad, a favorite of every one
with whom he carae in contact ; one who had a per
fect physical and mental development, — not preco
cious, but a good scholar. At sixteen, he entered
Bowdoin ; was a classmate and friend of Nathaniel
Hawthorne, who wrote his life, and recorded that
his most notable characteristic was a "fascination
of manner, which has proved so magical in winning
him unbounded popularity."
It was at Brunswick, while in college, that he met
and loved Miss Appleton.
Upon graduating, he began the study of law at
Portsmouth, in the office of Judge Woodbury, one of
the finest lawyers of New Hampshire. He inherited
Democracy frora his father, and dashed into politics
before he could vote. He would hurrah for Jackson
with the loudest, yet was as strong on States Rights
as Calhoun himself.
He settled in his native town, Hillsborough, and
gave no promise of legil ability. , His first appear
ance as a pleader was a faflure, but it only incited
him to redoubled perseverance and determination.

280 MRS. PIERCE.
That he became a successful lawyer was due to his
identifying himself with his clients, and a strong,
magnetic influence with the jury.
He was chosen State Representative, and soon
Speaker of the House. He was as popular as a man
as he had been as a boy. The state elected him to
the lower house in Congress. He was hand in glove
with Jackson, and became an especial favorite with
him. In 1834, he made Miss Appleton his wife.
Five years later, during the presidency of Van
Buren, he was elected to the Senate, being the
youngest member of that body. He was a ready,
graceful speaker, but in that august company, made
up of giants, he rarely spoke, but when he did, he
won attention.
In 1838, -he removed to Concord, and practised his
profession with great success. When Mr. Polk
carae into power, he offered him the office of
Attorney-General ; but business, his wife's health,
and her dislike to Washington life, led him to de
cline the honor. He was also about the same time
offered the democratic noraination for governor; this
too he declined, determined to attend to his profes
sion and secure a corapetency for the coming years ;
politics were far from being profitable.
He had been the father of three sons, but two
died in infancy. Mrs. Pierce was prone to melan
choly. She could always see a mirage, made up of

MRS. PIERCE. 281
bridges ; no powers of persuasion could turn her
feet ; she must cross them all, and you may be
sure that she never boiled the peas with which
she filled her shoes. That this gay, social, hail-
feHow-well-nlet Frank Pierce was a volurae of
tenderness to this quiet, low-spirited woman,
is a proof of the saying, that people like their
opposites. Unseen forces Were building a bridge which never
had shape in her mirage, but which she raust cross,
whether she will or no. But then, there is little
difference between a real or an imaginary bridge,
indeed, people Often seera braver in crossing tangible
ones; they can set their feet down solid, which gives
thera a sense of security. Quiet, country-borne life,
with the husband and son whom she adored seemed
to stretch out before her. The very word politics
grated on her over-attuned ears, and td her husband
it was the most fascinating, all-engrossing subject in
the world, especially now that the sectional strife
was waxing hotter and hotter. He went all lengths
in his democracy, was raore of a slavery man than
the slaveholders themselves. Northern Democrats
deplored slavery, but failed to see how it could be
gotten rid of, and were in sympathy with those who
were born to the curse of it ; he talked as if it were
no blot on diir escutcheon, but the talk was riever in
the presence of his sensitive wife. If guests came.

282 MRS. PIERCE
he curbed his tongue and managed to curb theirs,
until they were in his private quarters.
Mr. Polk and his supporters were the architects of
the new, solidly-built bridge, o'erlaid with pointed
pebbles, over which so many bleeding hearts, if not
bleeding feet, were to pass.
At the very first hint of picking a quarrel with
Mexico and enlarging Southern States for the benefit
of their peculiar institution, Frank Pierce sprang to
his feet. He could love like a woman, and act like a
man ; could kiss away the tears of his half-ethereal
wife, unclasp her clinging arms, put her, fainting,
from him and march forth to do what he thought
to be duty ; mistaken duty, most New Englanders
thought. He enlisted as a simple volunteer soldier, showing
the sincerity of his motives. He was too much of a
man to be left in the ranks, was soon made colonel,
and then raised to the rank of brigadier-general.
He distinguished himself for his bravery — always
distinguished himself in whatever he had to do.
His brigade of twenty-four hundred men, was to
reenforce General Scott. He rode under the burn
ing summer sun, always gay, the idol of his men;
there seemed to be a sort of magnetism about the
man, which drew all hearts toward hira.
No dangers or difficulties daunted him. Once,
when his little army was on the heels of the Mexi-

MRS. PIERCE. 283
cans, they came to a bridge, a magnificient structure,
buflt by the old Spaniards ; to their dismay, they
found the centre arch blown away. All but the
general were despondent ; there must be some way
out of it, he was sure. He summoned to his aid a
Maine lumberman, skilled in all sorts of mechanical
contrivances, who assured him that in four hours
time, he could make a road over which the artillery
and wagons could pass, provided he had men enough.
Five hundred, his number, were detailed and before
night the passage was made.
How little the Mexicans knew of the versatflity of
talent among Yankees, when they sacrificed their
splendid bridge !
The march to General Scott's headquarters began
the 28th of June and ended the 7th of August.
Once, Pierce was thrown by the stumbling of his
horse, badly sprained his knee, and besides was
severely bruised. As soon as he had recovered full
consciousness, and his knee had been bound up by
the surgeon, he insisted, contrary to all advice, that
he must be mounted and follow his men.
"But, general, you cannot keep your seat," said
the surgeon. "Then tie me on," was the undaunted
reply. In the agony of a fresh sprain, away he rode
like the wind ; he must and would be at the front,
where the bullets were thickest. His nerve and wfll
carried him through.

284 MRS. PIERCE.
At midnight in a drenching, tropical rain, upon an
ammunition wagon, he took his first rest. Pain
overcame weariness ; sleep shortened none of the
minutes of the miserable night.
General Scott sent orders for an immediate ad
vance, and long before sunrise the dau"ntless man
was again in the saddle. An assault was successful
in seventeen minutes, but the pursuit ksted until
past noon, and General Pierce led tbe advance.
General Scott wished to give him personal orders
to attack Santa Anna in the rear. The appearance
of the man raade him alter his mind, but General
Pierce begged it as a boon, that he might be the one
to gd. "Why man, you can't touch your foot to the
stirrup," said Scott. " One I can," was the answer.
The flashing of the eyes told what the man could
dare and do, and as the best cannot be spared in
war, he was afl owed to go.
Over ditches and chasms he leaped his horse, until
one opened too wide for the attempt ; upon hands
and knees he crossed it Mirid and matter had
struggled ; but at last, nature conquered, he sank
helpless upon the field. His men would have borne
him away, but the heroic spirit was not conquered ;
he would lie where he could watch the progress of
the battle.
When the shouts of victory came from his troops,
he was placed upon a horse and rode to meet Santa

MRS. PIERCE. 285
Anna, who had asked for a conference, which lasted
untfl four in the morning.
General Pierce took part in one more conflict ; but
at the final one, when the city of Mexico fell into our
hands, he was so ill that he was confined to his bed.
Nine months from the time that he sailed away,
he was in his home at Concord, folding wife and boy
in his arms.
Mrs. Pierce had not died, as she said that she
should. She had given way to tremors when the
Mexican mail came in, had had many funerals, and
had taken many walks to the churchyard behind her
husband's body, but they had not told upon her
health nor very seriously impaired her spirits. Had
he been at home, she would have passed sleepless
nights, lest he should drink an extra glass of wine,
and if truth raust be told, he soraetiraes did, for he
was a convivial man, liked a social drink, though no
low lover of liquor.
Then he settled down again to his profession ; he
had manfully done his share in public duties, and he
gloried in the result.
Man proposes for himself, but if one enter the
arena, which he did, politicians dispose.
In 1852, the Deraocrats raet at Baltiraore to settle
upon the name to be put upon their presidential
ticket. It was supposed that the choice would rest
upon one of four prominent men ; Buchanan, Macy,

286 MRS. PIERCE.
Cass, or Douglas. The balloting oegan, and went
on for three days until it reached the thirty-fifth
ballot, and they seemed no nearer a choice than
when they began. Delegates frora Virginia whis
pered together, and then for the second tirae in our
history a "dark horse" was led out. At first, there
,s_eemed to be no one to drive him to the front.
Another day the balloting went slowly on; each
tirae he made a step forward, and at the forty-ninth
ballot, Franklin Pierce, the " Northern man with
Southern principles," was the Democratic nominee
for the presidency of the United States.
Americans, Europeans, and the raan hiraself were
astonished. In sorae sections, a question similar to
the one in Polk's day was asked, " Who is Frank
Pierce .? "
A stranger in New Hampshire asked of his land
lord, at a village inn : " What sort of a man is
General Pierce.'" "Wall, up here, where every
body knows Frank Pierce, and where Frank Pierce
knows everybody, he's a pretty considerable fellow,
I tell you. But come to spread him out over this
whole country, I'm afraid that he'H be dreadful thin
in sorae places."
General Scott, who had fought in Mexico because
he was ordered to do so ; General Pierce, the dash
ing volunteer, and John P. Hale were opposing can
didates.

, MRS. PIERCE. 287
New England was proud of her gallant son, and
with the exception of Massachusetts and Verraont,
gave him her electoral votes. He was elected by a
large majority.
Mrs. Pierce was keenly alive to the honor con
ferred upon her husband, and the prestige it would
bestow upon her son. Inwardly shrinking for her
self, she could smile and even beam upon the con
gratulations pouring in from every quarter.
To be sure, she still crossed bridges, but they
seeraed farther apart, and the peas by constant use
were a little flattened.
The house was gay with visitors, and if the presi
dent-elect with his family went from home, people
vied with one another to do them honor.
In the midst of their triumph a blow was to be
deajt to them, frora which neither could ever recover
to their life's end, soraething more horrible than Mrs.
Pierce's darkest forebodings had ever fashioned.
In January, the general, Mrs. Pierce, and their
son, a bold, handsome lad of thirteen years, visited
Boston, to be feted by their friends and make pur
chases for the Washington life. On their return,
between Lawrence and Andover, the passengers felt
a vibrating motion ; it is said, that one never mis
takes its raeaning, even though it may be a first expe
rience. An axle had broken, and in a raoraent the
cars were turning over down an embankment. Gen-

288 MRS. PIERCE.
eral Pierce was bruised and sadly shaken up, but the
thought of his loved ones cleared his brains. He
took his wife in his arms and placed her on the
ground, then staggered back for his boy. It seemed
as if God had no pity ! There lay his only son, his
head crushed, his brains in his cap. Even then, the
man thought more of what it would be to the mother,
than of his own grief. None should tell her but
himself, with his arras tightly clasped around her.
Not another passenger was seriously injured.
Every heart in the nation thrilled with sympathy for
the bereaved parents.
The Concord home was a quiet closed house now.
As the Fourth of March approached, Mrs. Pierce
nerved herself for her duties, determined to hide her
private sorrow, even if it ate out her heart. If a
reception or a levee were to be held or a dinner-party
given, she was usually at her place, and her quiet,
refined courtesy never faHed. Having never risen to
the level of cheerfulness, it could not be expected
that now, saddened by the loss of her darling, she
would take any social stand.
Out of the mirage loomed another bridge, and
over it and over it she walked ; it seemed harder and
more pebbly than any before, inasmuch as it was con
nected with disgrace. In the seclusion of country
life, her husband had more than once shown himself
intoxicated. If the President of the United States

MRS. PIERCE. 289
should so far forget hiraself, it would be bruited frora
north to south, from east to west, copied into foreign
papers. With closed eyes, she could see the. flaming
capitals with which the disgraceful fact would be
headed. Her purity and innate delicacy shrank
from it, as her flesh would from burning coals. Her
fears were groundless. Frank Pierce was a perfect
gentleman, knew what belonged to his high station,
and would sooner have been drawn in quarters by
wild horses than have disgraced it.
He was said to have been more popular at Wash
ington than any other occupant of the White House.
Generous to a fault, his hospitality was without stint.
Cordial in his manners, his fascinating magnetism
drew all hearts towards him. Once he entertained
the correspondents of the Whig newspapers ; they
had rarely given him a good word, but they admitted
that there was never a more genial host.
Mrs. Pierce never made an enemy, and the general
was so popular that their departure from Washington
was regretted, socially, by Democrats and Whigs.
His administration was a stormy one. The gov
ernment had long before come from the smooth lakes
into the rapids ; every year brought it nearer to the
falls, and it would be well if it did not go down in
the whirlpool.
The special feature of the finely delivered inaugu
ral was the support of slavery ; the president

290 MRS. PIERCE.
pledged himself to enforce the Fugitive Slave Law,
which was the keynote of his administration. He
had fought for the South, and now did what he could
to conciliate it.
The man had gone who staunched the wounds
with his ceraent, which had caused only a teraporary
lull in the exciteraent The Missouri Compromise
had been broken, and, at the bidding of the South,
was repealed.
Stephen A. Douglas had thrown a fresh apple of
discord, in bringing forward a bill organizing the
Territories of Kansas and Nebraska, and advocating
what was caHed "squatter sovereignty." Kansas was
mainly settled by Northerners, and they were about
to meet, .to decide if the territory were to be bond or
free, according to the doctrine proposed by Douglas.
A prominent leader in Missouri said that the Slave
States were brought to such a pass that no raan
among them should have any qualms of conscience
about violating law.
Each party had sent armed men into the territory,
and amid lawless violence each party fought its way
to the polls. There was an appeal to Congress, and
General Pierce ranged himself in favor of the Slave
States. The expedition sent to Japan by Mr. Ffllmore com
pleted its work in General Pierce's term.
He had gracefully made his old military superior.

MRS. PIERCE. 291
General Scott, commander-in-chief of the United
States army.
Trouble had risen again over Mexican boundaries,
but this time, General Gadsden, directed by Con
gress, amicably settled it by paying ten million dol
lars for a strip of territory which has ever since been
known as the Gadsden Purchase.
As General Pierce's term drew to a close, Missouri
and Kansas were more turbulent than ever, and he
left the difficulty^ as a legacy to his successor.
He had lost all his Northern support, and the
Southerners were ungrateful and passed hira over.
If a President be not elected for a second ¦erm, it
is considered a reproach upon his policy, and Pierce
was one to feel the mortification.
Mrs. Pierce drooped more and more, and her hus
band took her to Madeira for a six months' sojourn.
She rallied and they travelled for eighteen months
through the principal countries of Europe.
"She lingered on an invalid for a few years more,
and died of consumption, in 1863.
During the Civfl War, the Abolitionists denounced
General Pierce as a Copperhead, and politically he
incurred a good deal of obloquy. At Concord he
made a speech which was called the " raausoleura of
hearts' speech."
Every drop of blood that he inherited from his
father, who fought in the Revolution, every impulse

292 MRS. PIERCE.
of his nature repelled the charge of his being a
traitor to the Union.
To a friend who had led a portion of the Sixth Regi
ment through Baltimore, and now stood in his uni
forra ready to go again to the front, he said : " Were
I to offer my sword to my country, the act would be
maligned, but when I shall cease to love and cherish
the Union of these states, life will have lost for me
all that gives it any value. I do not approve of all of
the acts of the administration, but if I were situated
as you are (he had a dying wife on his hands) I would
do as you have done and as you propose to do, and I
say, God bless you and prosper you."
Socially, he never lost his popularity ; he was
always the genial host, generous neighbor, and kind
friend. He was a stanch member of the Episcopal
Church. He lived to see the North triumph, slavery abol
ished, the Union secure, and he thanked God for it.
He died in 1869, lamented by all who personally
knew him.

MISS LANE.
The successor of General Pierce was our first
bachelor President. To do the social honors of the
Executive Mansion, he brought a young and beauti
ful girl. There is always a charm in maidenhood,
when combined with youth and beauty ; added to
these Miss Harriet Lane had culture, learning, pol
ished manners, high-bred airs, tact, and winsome
ways, alike to all her uncle's guests.
It is said, that there are no more beautiful and
fascinating women in the world, than the Irish of the
upper class. They indulge in wit and gayety, with a
perfect abandon that belongs to no other nation.
This young girl had an Irish grandfather ; her mother
inherited his features and his social qualities, and had
transmitted them to her daughter, with an infusion
of Scotch blood, which made her canny and true, and
of English blood, which stamped her as a pure Anglo-
Saxon, united with the indefinable grace which
belongs to the American girl.
Her mother died when she was seven, and her
father two years later, leaving ber an ample fortune
and a host of relations. Many doors stood open for
293

294 MISS LANE.
the orphan, and young as she was, she was allowed
to choose which she would enter.
James Buchanan had never been given to petting
or caring for children, but there was soraething in
his handsorae face and remarkable presence that
took the child's fancy. She was one of the ir
repressible sort, the very imp of mischief. She
reasoned that there were no aunts or women in
Uncle James's house, and with the great ears of
little pitchers, she had heard his sad love story,
which somehow made *him doubly interesting. " I
win go to Uncle James," was her decision. He was
pleased and more than glad to take this child of his
favcfrite sister and train her to womanhood, that she
might light a home which would never have a legiti
mate mistress.
In the spring of his days, when hearts naturally
turn to love, he had never thought to lead the life of
a bachelor. He was a great admirer and a perfect
connoisseur of beautiful women, and there was some
thing fascinating in his courtly and deferential man
ner toward them.
He wooed one who was not only very beautiful,
but very wealthy, and he did not woo in vain ; they
were engaged, happy, and called the handsomest
couple in all the country round. Either his whole
heart was not in the matter, or the fates were against
them.

MISS LANE. 295
- Mr. Buchanan was a lawyer, and his extensive
practice often took him away from horae. After
one of his trips, which had been longer than usual,
he delayed going to the girl whose heart was in his
keeping. It was from no pressure of business, for
he found time to visit a married couple, who were
his intiraate friends. The visit and the delay, im
patient as the girl was, might have been condoned,
perhaps, with frowns and tears, but still condoned ;
but alas ! those married friends had a guest, and the
guest was a young and very charming girl. Both
were young and there was sorae harraless coquetry
— would havebeen harraless had there been no busy-
bodies. One swept across their path and divined
with a devil's instinct the wound she could inflict
upon the rich, beautiful, envied Miss Coleman, the
betrothed of Buchanan.
A call was made, a garbled story, fashioned by the
informer's evil intent, was told. It is said that jeal
ousy is born of love. Very wroth, not waiting to
calm her jealous passion, the girl wrote an angry
note, breaking her engagement. Mr. Buchanan re
ceived it in a crowded court room, and it was noticed
that his cheek blanched.
Had the girl been penniless, Buchanan could have
brooked her anger and sued again, but she be
longed to the richest famfly in the country, was rich
in her own right, and he was too proud. She had

296 MISS LANE.
charged him with coldness and indifference ; then she
must think him sordid, his motives interested. He
took her at her word and her troth was given back.
Shortly after, a party of young people, among
whom was Miss Coleman, under a chaperon,
planned to visit Phfladelphia to attend an opera.
They went and took rooras at a hotel. When they
dressed for the evening. Miss Coleman complained
of feeling fll, too fll to join the party. They went
without her ; upon their return, they flocked to her
room to see if she were better, and to tell her of the
delightful treat that she had lost — to their horror,
she lay dead before them.
There was a great excitement, and it created no
end of talk. Her famfly were very reticent, but it
was supposed that the unhappy girl, in her despair,
went away unbidden.
Mr. Buchanan was overcome with grief, and
begged of her father the privilege of being allowed
to be one of the mourners at the burial. Mr. Cole
man, naturally indignant, returned the letter without
other answer.
It is said that Buchanan cherished the memory of
his lost love to his dying day. It is hardly to be
supposed that a man of honor and feeling, who had
brought his first love to so tragic an ending would
ever marry. • J
The romping, mischievous child, regardless of the

MISS LANE. 297
proprieties, brought fresh life and a flood of sunshine
into the bachelor's home. She gave frequent cause
for rebuke and at times he would threaten to place
her with two maiden ladies in the village, whose
notions were very rigid as to the deportraent of
young girls. In one of the sessions of Congress, of
which he was a member, he really did it. The little
girl bewailed her lot, and wrote him letters of hard
ships and homesicknes-s, but he adhered to his plan
during his seven months' absence. If they kept her
subdued, she came horae as boisterous and trouble
sorae as ever; yet when she was the most trying,
her uncle would proudly say, " She has a soul above
deceit or fraud. She never told a lie, she is too
proud for it."
At the age of twelve, she was sent with an elder
sister to a school in Charlestown, Virginia ; her
vacations were spent with Mr. Buchanan, and once
he went so far in his indulgence as to take her with
him in a sumraer trip to Bedford Springs.
There was a convent school in Georgetown, of
much celebrity for turning out accomplished women.
Her uncle asked her if she thought she would be
corae a Roman Catholic if she went there. " I can't
promise, I don't know enough about their faith,"
said the girl, fearing lest her honest answer would
spoH her chance of going. " WeH," said he, " if you
becorae a good Catholic, I wfll be satisfied." She

29S MISS LANE.
did not become a Catholic, but she gained and
returned the love of the nuns, and ever bore
witness to their purity and self-denying lives, and
by letters and visits kept up her friendship with
them. While she reraained with thera, her Sundays were
spent with her uncle in Washington.
At seventeen, she left school, and was placed at
the head of his house.
Buchanan hiraself inherited the versatile talents of
his Irish ancestry. He graduated frora college with
honors at the age of eighteen ; was tall, graceful,
handsome, overflowing with animal spirits. He stud
ied law and was admitted to the bar at twenty-one,
and before he had finished his third decade stood at
the head of the Pennsylvania bar with an extensive
practice. He was opposed to the war of 18 12, but when
Baltiraore was threatened, he enlisted as a private
and marched to its defence. He entered the State
Legislature at twenty-three; served five terms in
Congress ; appointed by Jackson, was rainister to
St. Petersburg, where by his skill in diploraacy he
gained iraportant privileges for his country in the
waters of the Black and Baltic seas. He was a sena
tor to Congress, Secretary of State under Polk,
Minister to St James's under Pierce, and President of
the United States — a galaxy of honors, and had he

MISS LANE. 299
lived in less troublous times, his narae would be
araong the first on the page of history.
He had endorsed Clay's coraproraise measures and
much was hoped from his election, as he avowed in
his inaugural, that his policy would be " to destroy
any sectional party, whether North or South, and to
restore if possible, that national, fraternal feeling
between the different states that had existed during
the early days of the Republic."
In the last months of his adrainistration, raen who
had scorned the hero of New Orleans, would wring
their hands in agony and think a day of the ignorant
Jackson, woulel be better than a cycle of the learned
and elegant Buchanan, hopelessly bewildered, folding
his arms in weak despair, declaring that by his con
stitutional oath he had no power to save the Union.
Jefferson stretched the Constitution to buy Louisiana,
and it did not give way ; and now it did seem as if
the warp and the woof of it might be tested for the
saving of the Union.
Yet Mr. Buchanan had the jewel of consistency.
In his early manhood, he had said, " The older I
grow, the more I am inclined to be what is called a
State Rights man." He had endorsed Tyler, op
posed the Ashburton Treaty, favored the annexation
of Texas, on the plea of affording that security to the
southern and southwestern Slave States, which they
have a right to demand ; assisted Polk in his meas-

300 MISS LANE.
ures to bring on the Mexican War, opposed the
Wilmot Proviso, approved enforcing the Fugitive
Slave Law to the letter, and at Ostend urged wrests
ing by force frora Spain her fairest jewel, lest she
should abolish slavery and thereby " her possession
of it should endanger the existence of our cherished
Union." The man with this record was the Democratic
nominee for the Presidency in 1856, and received the
necessary electoral votes, though Fremont, his
opponent had the popular vote.
He was an adept in the arts of diplomacy, and as a
foreign minister maintained the honor of his country
and gave satisfaction to all partfes.
The first vexed question at the English court was
the important one : in what manner he should array
his person to appear before the Majesty of England .''
Years before, when this matter of dress was dis
cussed at home, and the court dress exacted by
crowned heads forbidden, Mr. Buchanan had said-:
" Imagine a grave and venerable statesraan, who had
never attended a mflitia training in his life, appearing
at court arrayed in a railitary coat, with a chapeau
under his arra, and a small sword dangling at his
side." In the happy days of her married life, Victoria
always opened parliament in person. By her order a
circular was sent to Mr. Buchanan, inviting him to

MISS LANE. 301
be present — but there was an addendum saying
that no one would be admitted who was not in full
court dress.
If Mr. Buchanan could not go as he would before
the majesty of his own country, he would not go at
all and he did not. Stay away when bidden by the
Queen of England ! The American minister not
present at the opening of Parliament ! The English
press had a theme.
He wrote home to the State Department that he
will wear no gold or lace embroidery, but that he has
consulted the Master of Ceremonies about a dress
which will not shock the Queen, and yet be not much
different from that of an American citizen at home.
It was suggested that he should wear the civil
dress of Washington. Go back half a century and
presume to affect the style of the Father of his
Country ? make himself ridiculous ? Not he.
" Fashions have so changed," he said, " that if I
were to put on this and wear it at one of our Presi
dent's receptions, I should be the subject of ridicule
for life."
He had written for his niece. Miss Lane, to join
him in England. Now he wrote that it would be
better for her to be at home, for his contumacy wfll
probably prevent his being invited to court, and if the
Queen drop him, she may be sure afl London society
will.

302 MISS LANE.
The Queen was to hold a levee and she was gra
cious enough to repeat her invitation, making no
stipulations as to dress.
Mr. Buchanan was every inch a gentleman, and-
wished to yield so far as his dignity as an American
citizen would permit. Again he took" counsel with
tbe Master of Ceremonies. At his suggestion, he
added a plain dress sword to his usual evening
suit. He wrote Miss Harriet that he expected to pro
duce a sensation and to be a subject of court gossip.
When it was over he wrote again, " I appeared at
the levee on Wednesday last in just such a dress. as
I have worn at the President's a hundred times, a
black coat, white waistcoat and cravat, and black
pantaloons and dress buttons, with the addition of
a very plain black-handled and black-hflted dress
sword. This, to gratify those who have yielded so
much and to distinguish me from the upper court
servants. I knew that I would be received in any
dress that I might wear ; but could not have antici
pated that I should be received in so kind and dis
tinguished a manner. Having yielded, they did not
do things by halves. As I approached the Queen,
an arch but benevolent smile lit up her countenance,
as much as to say, ' You are tbe first man who ever
appeared before me at court in such a dress.' " I
confess that I never felt more proud of being an

MISS LANE. 303
Aaaerican than when I stood in the brifliant circle in
the simple dress of an American citizen."
Miss Lane joined hira and then came another vex
atious question. In the American minister's house
there is a presiding lady who is neither wife nor
daughter — what shall be her status ? how shall she
rank in the diplomatic corps ? In those days, Vic
toria, with her wise domestic counsellor at her side,
was ever gracious ; the elegant Buchanan had be
come a favorite, and she had seen his blue-eyed
niece, with her wealth of golden hair, had noted her
grace and beauty, and decided that she should have
the precedence due to a wife.
At the first drawing-room. Miss Lane made a
great irapression. On their return home, her uncle
said : " Well, a person would have supposed you
were a great beauty, to have heard the way you
were talked of to-day. I was asked if we had raany
such handsome ladies in America ; I answered, 'Yes,
and many much handsomer — she would be scarcely
remarked there for her beauty.' "
Americans abroad were enthusiastic over their
receptions, and the grace and dignity with which
Miss Lane presided at the Embassy.
Her robust figure and fine color, added to her
blonde beauty, gave her an air so English that some
questioned if she were an Araerican ; it was said that
she looked like the Queen before her marriage. If it

304 MISS LANE.
be true that she ever resembled Victoria, she must
possess some elixir for preserving beauty which the
Queen kens not of.
When Leo XIIL, in the spring of 1887, gave the
red hat to Cardinal Gibbons, the tribunes of the
Salia Regia of the Vatican were crowded with
princesses, ladies of the diplomatic corps, and dis
tinguished personages, who had flocked there, from
all parts of Europe, and it was remarked that among
the handsorae women, the most remarkable looking
was Mrs. Johnston of Baltimore, nie Lane.
Victoria has the air of a queen, can step so royally
that she appears taller than she really is ; but her
face has the stamp of a fat, blowzy cook.
Miss Lane enthusiastically loved England and
everything English — English people, unless they
carae as lovers, and there was a string of those.
Her uncle was always her confidant, and many a
love tale had she to pour into his ears,' but never for
a moraent did she propose to become one of the
Queen's subjects and expatriate herself.
When Mr. Buchanan was nominated for the presi
dency, he returned to Araerica. The contest was a
violent one, but in March he was inaugurated in a
more imposing style than any who had been before
him. At the time. Miss Lane was in mourning for a
sister, whom she dearly loved ; in a few weeks she

MISS LANE. 305
lost a brother, who was to have been an inmate of
the White House. The first season she paid no
visits, but at a reception she was always at her
uncle's side, and never did a more imposing couple
receive the nation's guests.
A foreign correspondent described her at the first
New Year's reception : " The Anglo-Saxon beauty
in full toilet dc demi-deuil, wearing no ornament but
a necklace of seed-pearls, looked charming, receiv
ing the ladies and gentleraen presented with grace
and affability. She was surrounded by groups of
diploraatists and officials, with ladies of her acquain
tance, forraing a picture raore beautiful, although
not so gaudy as the sovereign she reserables ; that is,
before Queen Victoria becarae Mrs. Albert Guelph."
Buchanan had the honor of receiving the first
Japanese Embassy to this country, nurabering
seventy-one ; eight of the chief dignitaries were
entertained at a dinner. The chief object of their
visit was to procure an English copy of the treaty
between Japan and the United States, signed by the
President, the original one having been burned.
The Japanese copy had been saved, and they
brought an unsigned duplicate of it, which they
never allowed out of their sight.
When Queen Victoria and Prince Albert sent
their first-born to visit Canada, the President sent an
invitation for him to extend his trip and visit the

306 MISS LANE.
United States. It was accepted, and Count Renfrew,
as the Queen preferred that he should be called, and.
his suite were entertained at the Executive Mansion
with princely hospitality. The young gentleraan
wearied of the cereraonies, but patiently went
through a public reception and a diploraatic dinner.
Miss Lane took hira to a young ladies' boarding-
school, and this was an arauseraent more in accord
ance with his tastes and his age. There was a
dreadful rumor that at Washington, as at some other
cities, he slipped away from his guardians, and
visited some places from which Victoria's ._son and
the heir of England's throne raight as well have
stayed away.
Born and reared amid porap and' ceremony, he
naturally preferred pleasures and people where they
did not come in. He would have liked a dance, even
went so far as to propose it, that he might mingle
with the beauties of the capital, but Mrs. Polk had
properly settled that matter, and Buchanan declined
to revive it, even for his princely guest, on the score
of propriety.
What was thought a proper amusement for the
great grandson of George the Third was a visit to
the grave of Washington. The President, Miss Lane,
the diplomatic corps, and the chief officers of the
government, with the prince and his suite, safled to
Mount Vernon in the steamer " Harriet Lane." The

MISS LANE. 307
Prince stood beside the President, looked solemnly if
not reverently at the tomb ; planted a tree to shade
the grave of the man his ancestor would have liked
to have beheaded, and then have placed the gory
trophy on Tower Hfll. The young man did what he
was told to do, but he made no expression as to the
enjoyment of such a treat.
When Victoria sent a letter of thanks for the cour
tesy and hospitality bestowed upon her son, she
mentioned this trip, as if it were the crowning honor
shown him, so of course it really was the proper thing
for the President to take him there ; and the Revolu
tionary score is all blotted out.
It proved a rather expensive amusement for the
government, and there was a contention when pay
day came. Buchanan insisted that if Congress
would only pay the biH from the contingent fund, he
would do it frora his private purse ; after a good
deal of haggling, the Secretary of the Treasury
paid it.
Political affairs were like a seething cauldron all
through Buchanan's term. In the first year, a fresh
slavery difficulty stirred the country.
Dred Scott and his wife had been taken by an
army surgeon to different posts in the Free States,
and then were taken back to slavery in Missouri.
Either from the air, or the Abolitionists, they had
learned much about freedom, and claimed it on the

3o8 Misb Lane.
ground that, by an act of their master, they had been
taken into free territory. The case was referred to
the Supreme Court, and the Chief Justice ruled that
they were slaves still.
This, added to the Fugitive Slave Law and the
Kansas troubles, roused an insane fury among the
Abolitionists. John Brown, half crazy with what he had endured,
had come from Kansas to Virginia, thinking to run a
quixotic tilt with the institution of the South, and if
he could not succeed was ready to wear the martyr's
crown. To show his sincerity, he took his own sons
for his esquires, and he was a particularly fond father.
With a small band, he seized the United States
Arsenal, at Harper's Ferry, thinking he could rouse
a grand insurrection among the slaves, and when the
scheme was well inaugurated, the Abolitionists of the
North would pour down, and to himself would belong
the glory of freeing his native land from what he
called its curse. Unfortunately for him, the sons of
Hara were not of the heroic type, and though the
Abolitionists could sing paeans to him and for him,
they were far too wise to join in so mad, so hair-
brained a scheme.
For a whfle, a very short whfle, John Brown had
things in his own way ; then the United States
troops were upon him. His boys were shot down,
but the unhappy old man, taken while he knelt be-

MISS LANE. 309
"tween them, encircling one with his arm, was re
served for the doom his fanatic zeal had courted.
The fire-eaters of the South had now the capital,
which the Dred Scott decision had given the Aboli
tionists of the North. They accused the whole Re
publican party of complicity in what had been done
on their sacred soil.
The troublous terra of Buchanan was drawing to a
close. Abraham Lincoln was the Republican nomi
nee for the fall election of i860, and the Democrats
were divided. Mr. Lincoln's political notions were
that slavery must be protected where it w.as, but
must not be carried into the. Free States. Under
Polk, Pierce, and Buchanan, Southern leaders had
had things pretty much in their own way-and now
they arrogantly said that if this Northern man, with
Northern principles, were elected their states would
secede. People at the North had heard tbis bluster about
secession all their lives, had heard that cotton was
king, didn't care much if it were ; could cry vive le
roi without choking ; they of the South thought the
love of the Union and an undimmed flag was simply
a sentiment, which Northerners were too sordid, too
much taken up with money making, to fight over;
then, if worst came to worst, they counted upon a
host with Southern principles who would defend
their cause.

3IO MISS LANE.
Lincoln was elected. The government was out of
the rapids now, and the solemn fall began.
General Scott begged, almost on his knees, that he
might move, at least secure government property.
Buchanan was in despair, impotently wringing his
hands, but dared not move, or at least, would not.
In his last message, he declared that the Executive
had no constitutional power to use the army or
navy to save the Republic. Scott had lived under
an earlier rigime, where there had been no pusilla
nimity, and he had been given carte blanche to use
the forces of the United States for the suppression
of secession, which under such measures soon came
to grief.
Virginians deprecated secession, and proposed
that all the states should send commissioners to
Washington, to settle the feud. It was called the
Peace Congress, and John Tyler was the president
of it.
On Washingon's birthday, there was a mflitary
parade, made up of the militia and the United States
troops stationed at the Arsenal. Tyler had the
audacity to sharply rebuke Buchanan for permitting
it. He raeekly excused himself, saying that he
" Found it impossible to prevent two or three com
panies of regulars from joining the volunteers with
out giving offence to the tens of thousands of people
who had assembled to witness the parade."

MISS LANE. 311
The Peace Congress was a failure, and the country
presented the spectacle of two governments, two
capitals, two presidents, and two flags.
Never had man worked and schemed harder than
Buchanan to reach the seat of Chief Magistrate of
the United States, and now he feverishly longed to
have his evfl days come to an end.
On the fourth of March, he rode to the Capitol
with Lincoln, who walked into the Senate charaber,
leaning on his arm ; the inauguration over, he re
tired to his home in Wheatland.
Never was the Executive Mansion maintained in
better style than during the days of Buchanan and
Miss Lane ; the President's salary, half what it is
now, was wholly inadequate to its maintenance, and
he encroached heavily upon his private fortune.
There is a sort of pathos in the man's whole
history — a man so nobly endowed by nature ; in his
youth he was shipwrecked in love ; in age, crowned
with his country's honors, he left the chief magis
tracy with tarnished honors, and spent his last years
writing a book defending his course.
Some said that he was a traitor ; a larger nuraber,
that he was only weak, without will, or moral cour
age ; had not the endowments for emergencies. One,
rather severe, claimed that in the tentative period of
political issues assumed by his party, Mr. Buchanan
could always be found two paces to the rear, but in

312 MISS LANE.
the hour of triumph he marched proudly in the front
rank. In his retirement, by no word or act did he ever
take any part or show any syrapathy for or against
the great Rebellion, but he lived to see the North
triumph, and the Union intact
When he had passed his seventieth year, he was
asked to give away the niece he had taken and
trained from childhood. At Bedford Springs, where
they were accustomed to spend their summers. Miss
Lane had met and loved Mr. Henry Elliot Johnston.
In January, 1865, she wore the orange blossoras;
the marriage ceremony was performed by her uncle.
Rev. Edward Y. Buchanan ; the remainder of the
winter was spent in Cuba. On their return, the pair
settled in Baltimore, where the husband had bought
and furnished a house, which was his wedding gift to
his bride.
Her pleasure in the Episcopal church service led
her to be confirmed in the church of which her
uncle Edward was the rector. She had two sons,
and the elder bore the name of James Buchanan.
At his death in 1868, Buchanan left his fortune to
Mrs. Johnston, and Wheatland is her summer home.
Brflliant as was the career of her youth, the latter part
of her life has been shrouded with sorrows. She has
outlived all the nuraerous relatives of her early years.
She has cecome a widow and lost both her sons

MISS LANE. 313
within the last seven years. Two years since, she
visited at Washington, staying with Mrs. Hornsby,
the daughter of Mr. Buchanan's Attorney-General,
Judge Jeremiah Black.
After having been for twenty-five years a prom
inent figure in official and diplomatic society, she
leads a life of great seclusion.

MRS. LINCOLN.
As one reads the_ story of Mrs. Mary Todd
Lincoln, one can but feel as if huraan history as
told by Homer, were repeated in this woraan's sad
life — as if she were another Cassandra, having the
power of foretefling future events and having all her
predictions disregarded and, like the Cassandra of
old, was thought to have " eaten of the insane root
that takes the reason prisoner." The elder had one
advantage over this nineteenth-century woman, for
the ancients looked upon the raad as outside the
pale of humanity, and thought their fantastic brains
somehow allied them with the gods, and so treated
them with reverence.
Miss Todd was well born and well bred, was the
daughter of Hon. Robert S. Todd of Lexington,
Kentucky. As a child she was restless and pecu
liar, and in her early girlhood she would talk of her
future as if she saw it all raapped out before her.
She was to be the wife of a president, and queen it
over the White House. She wearied of her father's
house, and went to her sister, Mrs. Ninian W.
Edwards, in Springfield. 3M

MRS. LINCOLN. 315
She was rather attractive, and young men sought
her society ; she scanned thera all ; never thought of
love, only weighed the chances each had of leading
her to the goal of her arabition. One brilliant suitor
came a wooing ; of all she knew, he, to the common
eye seemed most likely to reach the presidency ; but
her prophetic vision told her that the wife of
Stephen A. Douglas was not to be the wife of a
chief magistrate of the United States.
When she was twenty-one, Abraham Lincoln paid
his suit. He was a lawyer by profession, had been
a member of the state legislature, a member so poor
that he had walked to Vandalia, the capital, one
hundred miles away, — his only luggage being a
bundle which he carried in bis hand, and when the
session was over, he went as he came.
Every feature of. his sober, grave face, sad-eyed
even then, was more than plain, and he was long-
legged, awkward, gaunt, — one whose exterior would
hardly have suited the fancy of a young girl, eleven
years his junior.
Endowed as she was with second sight, she had a
terrible shrinking, — once declined the proffered love,
then placed her hand in his, feeling sure that she
had taken her first step toward the White House.
What raade this engageraent more peculiar than
any ever told was that the lover too had shrinkings;
morbidly doubted if his love were strong enough to

3l6 MRS. LINCOLN.
make the girl's happiness safe in his keeping. His
proposal was made upon the most trifling acquaint
ance, made because he sensitively thought that she
expected it. When she declined, he thought that
she did it on his account, and with a singular power
of tormenting himself felt that he had touched and
wounded her heart, and raust urge the girl again,
even after each had expressed open doubts of their
fitness for each other. An unsuccessful lover sorae
tiraes falls into the depths of despondency and is pro
foundly raiserable, but here we have one in this state
because he is a successful one. No wonder that the
towns-people thought that the girl's fantastic brains
were to be matched with brains equally fantastic.
Miss Todd had not won beauty, but she had pledged
herself to a man whose heart was full of tenderness
and honest, manly devotion, nor was the "rail-
splitter " the boor that he was represented.
Before the marriage, his fidelity led him into what
he deemed to be one of the most' foolish acts of his
life. Miss Todd had written a satirical poera about
a young lawyer in town, and a mischievous friend
had had it printed. The lawyer was very wroth and
insisted that the editor should give him the name of
the writer. To screen his betrothed, Mr. Lincoln
said: "I take the responsibHity." A chaHenge was
sent and accepted ; preliminaries were settled, and
the choice of weapons fell to Lincoln ; he chose

MRS. LINCOLN. 317
broadswords, hoping to make it simply a fencing
affair; however, at the time of the meeting, friends
interposed and the difficulty was amicably arranged.
In-the Executive Mansion, Lincoln was once asked
if this story were true. He admitted the fact, but
bade the man, if he valued his friendship, never
allude to it again.
As one reads the singular story of Lincoln's life,
one feels that he was born great, that greatness
was never thrust upon him. He was born in a log
cabin, a son of the poorest of the poor, of a man
who could neither read nor write, a wandering day
laborer, without any force. It is said that mothers
not fathers transmit their qualities to their sons.
Abraham Lincoln had an excellent mother, and when
he filled the highest station he bore testiraony to her
worth : "All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my
angel mother ; blessings on her raeraory ! " Her
impress was made early, for she sunk under hard
ships and died when he was but ten years old. It
was she who taught him to read and write, and
managed that he should have a little schooling, six
months, — all that he ever had.
The family were Baptists, but in the sparsely
settled neighborhood where they lived, there was
no clergyman of any kind. The boy could not be
content to have his m'other laid away without a
funeral serraon, and wrote an itinerant preacher.

3l8 MRS. LINCOLN.
who had known her, but was a hundred mfles dis
tant ; the raan carae on horseback to perforra this
siraple service.
At twenty-one Abraham Lincoln bade good-by to
his father's house, and went forth, as he said, to seek
his fortune. He worked as a hired laborer, glad
of any honest service ; but the dream of his life
was to acquire an education, and half the night,
and every spare moment of the days, was given to
attain it.
He was the captain of the volunteer band that
Colonel Zachary Taylor took out of the state of
Illinois to follow Black Hawk. General Jackson ap
pointed him postraaster of New Salera, but as he
carried' the mail in his hat and distributed the letters
and papers when he chanced to raeet their owners,
it hardly seems as if he had made a rise in the offi
cial world, At twenty-five he had mastered English
grararaar, was a good speaker, and elected to the
state legislature. This was a step forward, and he
began the study of law. Post-office duties kept hira
at New Salera, but he would walk to Springfield,
borrow and carry horae a load of books on his back,
and under tre'es master their contents. Law books
he would borrow at night and return at the opening
of the office in the morning.
Who, but one endowed with a prophetic gift, could
have divined that this man was to be President of the

MRS. LINCOLN. 3I9
United States, and come down in history as the peer
of Washington .'
In October -1842, he is doubtful if he wfll ever
raarry, but in Noveraber he overcoraes his reluctance,
and stands up and raeets his fate like a man bent on
doing his duty. He took his bride to the Globe
Tavern in Springfield, where he mentions in a letter,
that board was to be had at four dollars per week.
Prosperity began to dawn, and his spirits to rise ;
the anxieties and forebodings which had so tortured
him seeraed to have passed away, or with a strong-
hand he had crushed them beneath his feet, as if
they were disloyal to the woman who bore his name.
Four chfldren were born, and one died.
He always inclined to the side of mercy, never re
fused a case for the lack of a retaining fee ; would
boldly defend a man who had helped a fugitive slave
to Canada ; whether it were right or wrong, it
showed a pitiful heart, especially as it brought him a
load of obloquy.
He almost lost his faith in the capacity of the
Americans for self-government when Clay was passed
over for Polk, who, after the Mexican War, he always
raaintained had washed his hands in innocent blood.
In 1847, he was elected to the lower House in Con
gress. Mrs. Lincoln had no desire to accorapany
him, until she came to her own — she could see her
early vision coming true.

320 MRS, LINCOLN.
The calaraitous term of Buchanan was drawing to
a close. The cracks in the Union were gaping wider
and wider, and the only man who had known how to
make and apply the cement was gathered to his
fathers. Patriots and statesmen were very sober.
In the Convention of i860, Seward and Lincoln
were the prominent candidates, and heavy bets were
raade in favor of Seward. In Chicago an iraraense
building called the " wigwam " was prepared ; whfle
the balloting went on, a man was stationed on the roof
to announce the result to the masses in the streets.
At the first and second ballot Seward led, as the
third was taken, one of the secretaries shouted to the
man : " Fire the salute, Abe Lincoln is nominated."
Mr. Lincoln sat in a newspaper office in Spring
field to hear the returns. At last they carae, in his
favor. The excitement and enthusiasra of his towns
men knew no bounds. In the midst of it all, he
pocketed the telegram and said : " There is a little
woman on Eighth Street who has some interest in this
raatter." As the news of his election was flashed
over the wires, this Httle sentence carae too ; raany
sneered that this should be his first thought. He
only knew how quivering with excitement the little
woman was ; how she had foreseen and pictured
it years before he saw her face, — knew she took his
hand with the conviction that he would bring this
thing to pass. It was wise to keep her calm by end-

MRS. LINCOLN. 321
ing the suspense, for there was but little doubt of his
election, when norainated.
Now that she had the sugarplura for which she
had so long waited, she had no patience with the
confusion it entailed, nor with the guests it brought
to do her husband horaage.
The sorely tried raan took a roora at the State
House and received his friends there.
Just after his election, Mr. Lincoln had a vision,
and his sibyl interpreted it — oh, how truly! He
told the story hiraself : " It was after ray election
when the news had been coraing in thick and fast all
day, and there had been a great ' hurrah boys,' so
that I was well tired out and went horae to rest,
throwing rayself upon a couch in Mrs. Lincoln's
sitting-roora. Opposite was a bureau, upon which
was a looking-glass. As I lay, my eye fell upon the
glass. I saw myself reflected full length, but my
face had two separate and distinct images ; the tip of
the nose of one, being about three inches from the
tip of the other. I was a little bothered, I raay say
startled — got up and looked in the glass, but the
iflusion vanished. On lying down again, I saw it a
second time, even plainer than before, and then I
noticed that one of the faces was much paler than
the other. I got up, the thing raelted away, I went
off, and in the exciteraent of the tiraes forgot all
about it, nearly, not quite, for the thing would once

322 MRS. LINCOLN.
in a while corae back to rae and give me a little pain,
as if something not pleasant had happened. When
I went home I told ray wife about it, and a few days
after I tried the experiment again, when, sure enough
the thing came back again, two faces, and one so
much paler than the other. But I never could bring
the ghost back after that, though I once tried very
hard to show it to my wife, who was somewhat wor
ried about it She said it was a sign, and her inter
pretation of it was, that I was to be elected to a
second term of office, and the paleness of one of the
faces was an omen that I should not live to its end."
In the latter part of February, Mr. and Mrs.
Lincoln and Mrs. Lincoln's two sisters, with the
boys, Robert, Willie, and Tad, left Springfield for
Washington. There were rumors that Lincoln was
to be assassinated as he passed through Baltimore.
The chief of the police had kept his eyes open, and
through one of his corps of detectives had learned
that a gang of roughs were to get up a row and, in
the confusion, one, detailed with a revolver, was to
do the work. A special train was, therefore, ar
ranged at Harrisburg to take him through in the
night, and as soon as he started, the wires were cut.
His early coraing made a great stir ; it was said that
he came in disguise, but the disguise was nothing
more than a travelling cap and shawl, which were
loaned him. His friends were confirraed in their

MRS. LINCOLN. 323
belief that there had been a plot, by a Southern
member of the Peace Congress exclaiming, in the
excitement of his early appearance : " How in the
mischief did he get through Baltimore .¦'"
Mr. Lincoln told an arausing story of the coraing
of his inaugural. He had put it in what he called a
gripsack, and given it to the care of his oldest boy.
" When we reached Harrisburg," he said, " and had
washed up, I asked Bob where the message was,
and was taken aback by his confession, that in the
excitement caused by the enthusiastic reception, he
believed he had let a waiter take the gripsack. My
heart went up into my mouth, and I started down
stairs, where I was told that if a waiter had taken
the article, I should probably find it in the baggage-
room. Hastening to that apartment, I saw an ira
raense pfle of gripsacks, and thought that I discov
ered mine. The key fitted it, but on opening, there
were inside but a few paper collars and a flask of
whiskey. Tumbling the baggage right and left, in a
few moraents I espied ray lost treasure, and in it the
all-iraportant document, all right."
The President-elect paid his respects to the Pres
ident in power. Members of the Peace Congress
called to see what the " beast " was like. Maybe he
was not versed in all the refinements of society ; but
somehow he pleased even the prejudiced ones of this
class. He seemed to know the antecedents of each

324 mkS. LINCOLN.
one, and as he shook haiids, had a pleasant and
appropriate word for each ; to the son of Clay, he
said : " I was a friend of your father." The members
expressed themselves as agreeably disappointed, —
said that artists had done his face injustice. There
was soraething in the eye and expression of Abraham
Lincoln that an artist could never catch.
Times were very ticklish, and there was a great
uncertainty about the ceremonies of the inauguration.
General Scott had a batch of letters, each telling of
sorae fiendish plot, and he protested against a pro
cession. The Republicans had triumphed, and their
organization in Washington determined to celebrate
their triuraph by very grand doings. To the threats
of assassination they said " f ol-de-rol. "
General Scott gave a reluctant consent, provided
there were no Wide-awakes connected with the affair.
He directed the committee to consult with Buchanan
and Lincoln.
Buchanan said that he could see no reason for
departing from the general usage. He thought
General Scott unnecessarily alarmed, but it was best
to have deference to his opinion. He bade them say
to Mr. Lincoln, that itwould give him pleasure to loan
him his carriage and ride with him to the Capitol.
They repaired to Lincoln's hotel and delivered their
message. For answer, — " Mary, Mary, come here."
Mary came. " Mary, the President has tendered the

MRS. LINCOLN. 325
use of his carriage, and agreed to accompany me to
the Capitol when I am sworn in." "That was very
kind, and of course you'll accept the offer," said
Mary. "Mary, by the way, I see some one has
presented you with a carriage."
After this domestic dialogue, Mary retired, and the
coraraittee presuraed to speak again and tell hira
what they wanted. He rose, threw his leg over the
back of a chair, rested his chin on the palm of his
hand and said : " When I was practising law in
Illinois, a client of mine, a peculiar sort of a fellow,
was brought before the court, and the judge asked,
' Do you swear or affirm ? ' ' Mr. Judge,' replied ray
client, ' I don't care a  which.' " The coraraittee
took this for consent, and made their arrangements
for a fine inauguration.
Scott had been curbed in his desire of crushing
the rebellion at the outset, but to protect the Presi
dent-elect, he put all his engines in motion.
Washington volunteers had the honor of forraing
the bodyguard. United States troops were in the
rear, and in every intersecting street, sharpshooters
were stationed on the roofs all along the route.
Police and detectives in uniform and out of uniforra
lined the walks. Scott would say now and then :
" Thank God, all is going on peaceably."
Buchanan and Lincoln rode in the sarae carriage,
preceded by a triuraphal car containing thirty-four

326 MKS. LINCOLN.
young girls, each representing a state in the Union ;
none vvere recognized as having seceded. Lincoln
entered the senate chamber leaning on the arm of
Buchanan, who looked pale, anxious, and excited, and
Lincoln firm and very serious.
As he read his inaugural, it was Douglas, the
" little giant," whom he had distanced in love and in
the race for the Presidency, that held his hat and for
the short space of life left him, endorsed his meas
ures. For a time it seemed as if the government had
gone to pieces, and the parts were in the whirlpool
clashing against each other.
Senators, representatives, officers of the army and
the navy went one after another. Lee denied that
there was cause for secession, but when Virginia
went, there was a pathos in his reraark to Scott :
" General, the property belonging to ray children, all
that they possess, lies in Virginia. They will be
ruined if they do not go with their state. I cannot
raise my hand against my chfldren." When told that
Scott had called him traitor, he went away silently,
almost with humflity. General Scott was also a Vir
ginian, and when his state sent a member from its
convention to tender him the command of Virginia
troops, with tempting promises of wealth and honors,
he sternly bade the man stop, lest he were compelled
to resent a mortal insult.

MRS. LINCOLN. 327
The first great act in the drama to be played was
forcing the lowering of the flag at Surater. By the
rejoicing at the South, one vvould have thought that
their cause was fought and won. The rebel Secre
tary of War said, " By the first of May, the Confeder
ate flag will float over the dome of the old Capitol at
Washington," adding : " Let them try Southern chiv
alry and test the strength of Southern resources, and
it may in time float over Faneuil Hall itself."
Surely, " whom the gods would destroy, they first
make mad."
People at the North had been apathetic ; said
there raust be " no coercion " ; but when the news
carae over the wires that the stars and stripes were
down at Sumter, sparks touched tinder, or as Beecher
eloquently expressed it : " The spark that was kin
dled at Fort Sumter, fell upon the North like fire
upon autumnal prairies."
None who can remember the day will ever forget it.
The President called for seventy-five thousand men,
and they sprang into line. The miners of Pennsyl
vania came first. The first blood was drawn at Bal
tiraore as the " Old Sixth " of Massachusetts passed
on its way for the defence of the national capital.
Every drop of* blood shed on that raemorable nine
teenth of April was but the sowing of the dragon's
teeth, and " armed men sprang up frpm every acre of
ground in the North and West, ready to sweep Balti-

328 MRS. LINCOLN.
more into the sea for her assault and her presurap
tion," and to protect the Union.
The Southerners said Alabaraa needed blood to
keep her in line. The blood was shed, and the South
was unified as well as the North. The war spirit
swept over the country like wildfire.
The second act was the Battle of Bull Run. It
was Greek meeting Greek, and the Northern troops
stampeded before Southern chivalry. The grief and
the rejoicing were all repeated.
The North never flinched, but braced up with the
same stalwart vigor that nerved Peter the Great
when beaten by Charles the Twelfth.
The Southerners thought they had already donned
their boots for Faneufl Hall, the goal of their hearts'
desire. The Abolitionists had denounced the Union and
the government, and it was supposed that they
would be in their element amid the strife they had
helped to stir up. If there were an undercurrent of
exultation in the thought that the slaves would rise,
and the work for which they had schemed would be
done, yet they, with Northern raen with Southern
syrapathies, rallied round the flag. In the second
year, the President issued a call for three hundred
thousand men, and they went into line, singing, —
" We are coming. Father Abraham,
Three hundred thousand more."

MRS. LINCOLN. 329
So the miserable months wore on ; the North almost
always the under dog, but plucky.
The canny Scotch tell us that " it's a lang lane,
that has nae turning."
The story of Vicksburg and of Gettysburg, told on
the same day, told the North and the South that the
lane had come to a very sharp bend. At the North
there were budding hopes, that when the lane turned
again, it would have a well-rounded corner to meet
the Southern lane, and the two would run in no tan
dem style but abreast.
Upon the arrival of the family at the Executive
Mansion, Mrs. Lincoln was all bustle and excitement,
and began at once to prepare for the reception which
she had so often planned.
She was "fat," hardly " fair, and forty " ; that she
was the successor of the popular, elegant, and accora
plished Miss Lane was not a point in her favor.
At the first levee, she appeared in pink silk,
decolleti, short-sleeved, and a floral headdress,
which ran down to her waist and destroyed what
coraeliness siraplicity raight have given her. If to
dress and reign as a queen had been the fond dream
of her life, in the waking reality she was far frora
happy. The President did not share her tastes, and,
weighted with care and sorrow as he was, she could
not mould him to her notions. The ilite of the old
Washington society did not take kindly to her.

330 MRS. LINCOLN.
indeed would hardly recognize a woman whose dress
was fantastic, and whose conduct at times was so at
variance with good breeding. She was not at afl
conciliatory toward those who carae to see the Presi
dent ; frora first to last, never did anything to stamp
his career with even social success. Dinner enter
tainments were given up, the large dining-room was
closed, and the press said by the parsimony of Mrs.
Lincoln. She was a bitter cup of domestic misery
pressed closely to the lips of a man who was con
tending with party hate and rebellious strife, and he
quaffed it with a Godlike patience, always treating
her affectionately, and calling her "mother" ; if she
were rude to his guests, he treated them with a
tender delicacy, as if he wished to atone.
A portion of one of the President's messages was
telegraphed to the press in advance of its delivery.
When the raatter was sifted, the offender said that
he was under proraise of strict secrecy as to how he
came by it. Lincoln intuitively knew the source of
the mischief, and when a garbled story was told by
the gardener, he begged that it might be accepted
and he be spared frora the disgrace of the truth.
February 5, 1862, when the hospitals were crowded
with wounded soldiers, and everything wore a gloomy
outlook for the government, Mrs. Lincoln gave a
large party, honored by the presence of the French
princes. The press was very severe upon her, say-

MRS. LINCOLN. 331
ing, " Come what will, the queen must dance," but
if she had expected pleasure, it proved an evening
of unendurable length and every srafle was forced.
Willie, a bright, intelligent lad of eleven years, was
very ill. For two nights his raother had hung sleep-
lessly over hira, and every now and then did she and
the President steal away from the gay throng to
spend a few raoments by his bedside. He never
recovered ; Mrs. Lincoln would never again enter
the room where he died, or the Blue Roora where
his body lay in its casket. The President's natural
tendency to raelancholy deepened, and he would
often say: "Whichever way the war ends, I have
the impression that I shall not last long after it is
over." Mrs. Lincoln, after the loss of her boy, indulged in
raore vagaries than ever, and the most mortifying
one was jealousy. One would have thought that the
homely, angular Lincoln, haggard and careworn,
was an Adonis, the sight of whora would win a
woraan's heart. By chance, a gentleraan once
alluded to a favor the President had granted a
lady. Mrs. Lincoln fell into such a paroxysra of
rage and jealousy, declaring that she never allowed
the President to see a woraan alone, that she sharaed
all present, and her husband left the roora with
bowed head and averted face.
At another tirae a lady, raounted, rode by the side

332 MRS. LINCOLN.
of the President, while Mrs. Lincoln foHowed in a
carriage ; her anger knew no bounds, and when she
saw the woraan, upon their arrival, she taunted her
with her conduct as if she were one of the demi
monde, even (vainly) insisted that her husband, who
was an efficient general in the array, should be dis
charged. The popularity of General Grant roused
her ire against Mrs. Grant, and she accused her of
scheraing to get the White House for herself. At
another tirae, she flew into a rage because she sat
unbidden in her presence, and asked her, " how she
dared ? "
The New Year's reception of 1863 at the Execu
tive Mansion is particularly raeraorable, being the
day when the Eraancipation Proclaraation went into
effect. The blacks gathered in the grounds about
the house, and when the white folks left, poked in
their woolly heads, furtively at first, then boldly raade
a rush to shake the hafid of " Massa Linkun " and
say a "God bless you."
The people endorsed the measures of Lincoln in
1864, by a re-election ; this, and the hopeful state of
mflitary affairs, rather roused him from his constitu
tional melancholy and the beckoning finger of the
skeleton, death, seerned for a time overshadowed.
From the imbecility of the government of his pre
decessor, he had inherited a thorny wHderness of
perplexities, and he had bravely trod its paths.

MRS. LINCOLN. 333
though with a bleeding heart ; once had said, " I
shall never be glad any more." The prospect of
peace, a united and a free country, seemed to open a
brighter vista. The Southern Confederacy had been
kept in its fatal isolation by an abhorrence of slavery
prevafling among civilized mankind.
Clay had said in his last days that a war for
slavery would have no sympathy, no good wishes,
all mankind would be against it, and the history of
the country itself would be against it. His vision
was clear, but it went no farther ; only eleven years
had passed since his death, and the country had been
baptized in blood and slavery, was a thing of the past,
destroyed by its own supporters.
The inauguration of 1865 passed off quietly ; the
precautions of 1861 were unthought of. In the
evening there was a brilliant ball, and the President
and Mrs. Lincoln sat on a raised dais ; though the
President had become feeble, weary, and worn, his
face wore an unusual air of smiling content. At the
time " it was thundering all around the heavens,"
and the plucky under dog was the upper one, with
its fangs fast closed upon its adversary.
General Lee surrendered on the ninth of April,
and on the eleventh the White House was brflhantly
illuminated, and crowds gathered to offer their
congratulations. The President made what proved
to be his last address ; there was only a passing

334 • MRS. LINCOLN.
allusion to the success of the array, but he pleasingly
dwelt upon reconstruction. The " erring sisters "
had corae back and the chief object was to hold
them in a close embrace, and cover them with the
flag. Good Friday, April 14, the President and Mrs.
Lincoln, with a party of friends, by the invitation of
the manager, attended Ford's Theatre to see Miss
Laura Keene's corapany in the "American Cousin."
To attract a crowd, a personal notice 'had appeared
in the daily papers that both the President and
General Grant would be present. At no tirae did
Mrs. Grant care to go in company with Mrs. Lincoln,
and just now she was longing to see her children,
who were at school in New Jersey, and she per
suaded the general to accompany her. The tired,
soft-hearted President went, lest the people would be
disappointed if he didn't go.
The theatre was packed, and as the party entered
their private box, every one rose and vociferously
cheered. Soon after, John Wflkes Booth, an actor
of disloyal repute throughout the war, by showing a
false card to the President's servant, gained access to
the box. He held a small Derringer pistol in one
hand and a double-edged dagger in the other. The
President's back was towards hira, and so quiet were
the assassin's movements he did not turn. The
pistol was held close to his head, and the bullet fired.

MRS. LINCOLN. 335
There was a report and a puff of sraoke, but before
any one could realize what had happened, Booth
exclairaed, " Sic semper tyrannis ! The South is
avenged," juraped upon the stage, left the theatre,
was in his saddle, and gone.
The President did not move, but soon the people
realized vvhat had been done. The excitement and
confusion were intense. Men shouted, and women
shrieked and fainted.
Miss Laura Keene was the most self-possessed,
and procuring water and cordials climbed into the
box from the stage. The unconscious President was
taken across the street and exarained by surgeons,
who pronounced- the wound a mortal one.
Mrs. Lincoln followed the men who bore her
husband, uttering the most heartrending shrieks,
and through the night sat with her son Robert,
moaning in an adjoining roora, — at times she would
wildly start and cry : " Why didn't they shoot me .-• "
Several of the cabinet, with Senator Suraner,
watched over the sufferer and at tiraes sobbed like
woraen. He died about half past seven in the raorn
ing, and, placed in a coffin, was borne by six soldiers
to the Executive Mansion.
Only children had slept in Washington that night ;
it had been one of terror, soldiers had stood to their
arras, mounted men had patrolled the st,reets, and
every one was inquiring for the latest news.

336 MRS. LINCOLN.
As the sad story sped over the wires, bells were
tolled frora ocean to oCean, and flags were at half
mast. Every church, town, and hamlet was draped
in raourning — even the supply of black goods was
exhausted. The President was erabalmed, and on the foHowing
Wednesday, funeral services were held in the East
Room. The body was removed to the rotunda of
the Capitol, where, under guard, it remained over
night. It, with the body of his little son, Willie, was
placed in a funeral car, and the sad pageantry began.
Never before had there been such a procession or
such a funeral.
The reraains were taken to Independence Hall,
Philadelphia ; City Hall, New York ; and at Cleve
land a buflding was erected in the Park, and Bishop
Mcllvaine, read the burial service upon the opening of
the casket. The sons, Robert and little Tad, were
the chief raourners, and the abandonraent of the
latter to tears and grief touched every heart.
May 4th, dust was coramitted to dust, and ashes
to ashes at Oak Bridge Cemetery, Springfield, his
old home. His martyrdom had placed the final seal
upon his renown, and his name will fill a place in the
annals of the world which will ever be held sacred.
A political opponent, one, whose name figured in
the history of the war, said of hira: "Abrahara
Lincoln was afl that his adrairers clairaed. He was

MRS. LINCOLN. 337
a Providence. The abolition of slavery was beyond
man ; it was of God, and Abrahara Lincoln was his
chosen instruraent."
His raiserable assassin was tracked and hunted
like a dog, and when tracked to his hiding-place shot
down as he was about to use his weapon against his
pursuers. A couple of extracts frora his diary give
his version of the matter, and explain what was half
suspected, —
" April 14, Friday, the Ides. Until to-day nothing
was ever thought of sacrificing to our country's
wrongs. For six raonths we had worked to capture ;
but our cause being alraost lost, soraething decisive
and great raust be done. But its faflure was owing
to others, who did not strike for their country with a
heart. I struck boldly, and not as the papers say. I
walked with a firm step through a thousand of his
friends, was stopped, but pushed on. A colonel was
at his side. I shouted, ' Sic semper' before I fired.
In jumping broke my leg. I passed all his pickets ;
rode sixty mfles that night with the bone of my leg
tearing the flesh at every jump. I can never repent
if. Though we hated to kfll, our country owed all
her troubles to him, and God simply made me the
instrument of his punishraent. The country is not
what it was. This forced union is not what I have
loved. I care not what becoraes of rae. I have no
desire to outlive ray country. This night, before

338 MRS. LINCOLN.
the deed, I wrote a long article and left it for one of
the editors of the National fntelligencer, in which I
fully set forth our reasons for our proceedings. He
or the South."
" Friday, 21. After being hunted like a dog,
through swamps and woods, and last night being
chased by gunboats, tiH I was forced to return ;
wet, cold, and starving, with every raan's hand
against me, I am here in despair. And why .'' For
doing what Brutus was honored for, — what made
Tell a hero. And yet I, for striking down a greater
tyrant than they ever knew, am looked upon as a
common cutthroat. My act was purer than either
of theirs. One hoped to be great himself, the other
had not only his country but his own wrongs to
avenge. I hoped for no gain ; I knew no private
wrong. I struck for my country, and that alone, a
country ground beneath this tyranny; and prayed for
this end, and yet, now behold the cold hand they
extend to me. God cannot pardon me if I have done
wrong. Yet, I cannot see any wrong, except in
serving a degenerate people. The little, the very
little I left behind to clear my name, the government
will not allow to be printed. So ends aH ! For my
country I have given up all that makes life sweet
and holy, brought misery upon my family, and am
sure there is no pardon in the heavens for me, since
man condemns rae so. I have only heard of what

MRS. LINCOLN. 339
has been done (except what I did myself) and it fills
me with horror. God ! try and forgive me, and bless
my mother. To-night I will once more try the river
with the intention to cross, though I have a greater
desire, and almost a raind to return to Washington,
and in a raeasure clear my narae, which I feel I can
do. I do not repent the blow I struck. I raay
before my God, but not to man. I think I have
done well, though I am abandoned witb the curse of
Cain upon me; when, if the world knew my heart,
that one blow would have made me great, though I
did desire no greatness. To-night I try to escape
these bloodhounds once more. Who, who can read
his fate .' God's will be done. I have too great a
care to die like a criminal. Oh, may He, may He
spare me that and let me die bravely. I bless the
entire world. Have never hated or wronged any
one. This last was not a wrong, unless God deems
it so, and it is with him to damn or bless me. And
for this brave boy, Harold, with me, who often prays
(yes, before and since) with a true and sincere heart,
was it crime in him ? If so, why can he pray the
same.? I do not wish to shed a drop of blood,
but I must fight the course. 'Tis afl that's
left me."
Perhaps it was well that he was shot down by
Sergeant Boston Corbett, as the masses, in their
frenzied rage, only thirsted for his blood, and it

340 MRS. LINCOLN.
would have required a large^ force to have protected
him from being torn in pieces. His body lies in an
unknown grave ; it is believed to have been taken
in the night upon the Potomac, and, well weighted,
flung to its bottom.
The half-deraented Mrs. Lincoln, hugging her
misery, clung to her palace. Johnson was very
courteous, and bade her reraain as long as it suited
her to do so. Congress paid ber eighteen thousand
doHars, — the reraainder of the year's salary.
Though there was no need, she applied to Con
gress for a pension, and even to private individuals
for money, and of course it was bruited abroad by
the newspapers. The Republicans, who had sub
scribed to the fund of one hundred thousand dollars,
paid to Mrs. Lincoln after the death of her lamented
husband, were naturally very angry.
The English know just how many Sepoys to bind
and shoot from one cannon's mouth, always know
what is justice, and are always bowed to the earth
at injustice, and so stood on their side of the water
and shied stones, declaring that the American
people owed this woman reverence for her very
name's sake, — the widow of the "Emancipator."
Mrs. Lincoln created a sensation in the autumn
of 1867, by offering for sale, in a small upstairs
room on Broadway in New York, what she repre
sented to jje her wardrpbe in the White House.

MRS. LINCOLN. 34 1
Those who inspected the collection said the object
of this exhibition could not have been to realize
money from the sale. With the exception of some
lace, camel's hair shawls, and a few diamond rings,
there was nothing which any lady could wear or
which would not have been a disgrace' to a second
hand clothing store. The dresses, those that had
been raade up and worn, were crushed, old-fashioned,
and triraraed without taste. The skirts were too
short for any but a very short person, and were
made of the coraraonest muslins, grenadines, and
bareges. All were cut extremely low in the neck
and could not be available for any purpose. There
were sorae brocaded silk skirts in large, heavy
patterns, which had been made but not worn, but
these had no waists, while the prices put upon them
and the other articles were exorbitant. The object
was to stimulate Congress to grant her a pension.
Thurlow Weed said that the Republicans, through
Congress, would have made proper arrangements, if
she had deported. herself in a way to insure respect.
The miserable woman's troubles multiplied. Tad,
the pet and darling of his father, died at eighteen.
She went abroad and lived obscurely for years, not
always in the best of corapany. On her return she
quarrelled with her son, and dragged their priyate
affairs into court at Chicago, where the secret
malady under which she labored was first disclosed.

342 MRS. LINCOLN.
and his conduct vindicated, Congress had granted
her a pension of three thousand doHars, afterward
increased to five, but her doings became such a
scandal, that both her person and finances were
placed under supervision. She died at Springfield,
Illinois, July i'6, 1882, in her sixty-third year.
In 1876, there was an attempt to steal the body of
Lincoln, which was in a marble sarcophagus within
the tomb. This led some young men of the place to
form what was called the Lincoln Guard of Honor.
In 1878, lest the body might be stolen, they removed
it from its marble teneraent and placed it in a secret
grave, and when Mrs. Lincoln died, they placed hers
beside it. April 14, 1887, the Guard surrendered
their trust to the Lincoln Monuraent Association.
The bodies were each in walnut coffins, inclosed in
a cedar one and that in a pine bo.x. When they
were exhuraed, the lid of the President's was removed,
and those who stood around and had known him
alive, easily discerned his features. The sflver plate
was bright on which was inscribed, " Abraham
Lincoln, i6th President of the United States. Born
Feb. 12, 1809, died Aprfl 15, 1865." While the
remains were exposed to view, the president of the
Guards turned them over to the Association.
The Guards signed a certificate that the remains
were those they received from the Association in
1878, and they in turn signed a certificate that the

MRS. LINCOLN. 343
remains were those of Abraham Lincoln ; then the
coffin was sealed by a plumber.
In the vault of the old tomb a cavity eight feet
long, six wide, and five and a half deep, bricked and
cemented, had been prepared, in which the coffins
were placed side by side. A brick arch was built
over them, this was covered with cement mixed with
small, broken rock.
Two guards remained on duty at the tomb until
the cement became hard.
The marble sarcophagus, in which the public had
supposed the remains to be for so many years, is
still within the vault.

MRS. JOHNSON.
As Mrs. Lincoln sat in the White House, half de
mented, wringing her hands, not so much for the
dead husband as for the grief of giving up what her
fantastic fancy had ever pictured as if it were her in
heritance, another woraan of an entirely different
type, advanced to take her place.
Grief, fll-health, and hardships had made her pre
maturely old ; but for her husband's sake; she would
have preferred her humble horae araong her neigh
bors in the Tennessee raountains, where she was
born and married, had borne and reared her children.
She had been the pretty daughter of a poor widow,
and, with the improvidence of the poor, had married
at sixteen a boy of eighteen. He had corae a
stranger from North Carolina and worked as a
journeyman t'aflor ; belonged to the class called the
"poor whites."
When hardly past infancy, his father was drowned,
and until he learned his trade, his mother had sup
ported him by the hard labor of her own hands. His
thoughts turned to love early ; before he emigrated
to Tennessee, he had won the promise of a young
girl, but her father set him aside as too young, and
344

¦ , MRS. JOHNSON. 345
forced his daughter to take back her troth. In erai-
g rating, the boy, with real raanliness and filial affec
tion, had taken his raother with hira, saying his turn
had corae to support her.
He could neither read nor write ; whfle learning
his trade, he had, by the aid of the other apprentices,
raastered the alphabet. A philanthropic missionary
wandered am.ong the Tennessee mountains, and,
wherever he went, tried to rouse a desire for mental
iraproveraent among the young men — pictured the
advantages of learning, and the assistance it would
be in advancing them in life.
This taflor drank in every word and formed heroic
resolves. His young wife was his superior in literary
attainments, and she became his teacher in reading,
writing, and arithraetic. The working days were
long, not ten hours as now. The wife would hurry
through the household tasks to attend her pupil-hus
band in the evenings. If we may judge from his
progress, either she was a remarkable teacher, or he
was a remarkable scholar ; later days and events
show that both were remarkable.
Words carae easily to his lips, and the towns-people
soon dubbed hira with the narae of Demosthenes. At
twenty, he was an alderman of the little city of
GreenvHle, and two years later, mayor ; at twenty-
seven, in the state legislature ; at thirty-five, mera
ber of the lower house in Congress ; at forty-five

346 MRS. JOHNSON.
Governor of Tennessee, twice elected, and thrice
United States senator. Surely, Andrew Johnson
had been no common boy.
He boasted of, indeed, gloried in his humble trade,
seemed to think it had the patent of nobility upon it,
and bespoke the respect due to age, inasmuch as it
was Adam's trade, the first manual work of which we
read. That went a little too far for the rest of the world,
who had always considered Adam's stitching of fig
leaves an act of shame ; and, when cursed or blessed
with legitimate work, was a tiller of the soil.
It was natural, however, that this man should pride
himself upon his ability to step from so humble an
origin to the high plane upon which he stood beside
the educated and the learned.
While governor, he cut and made a suit of clothes
for the governor of Kentucky, and sent it as a gift.
The friend was a blacksmith by trade, and he re
turned the favor with a pair of shovel and tongs,
forged by himself.
Johnson, Hke Jackson was a North Carolinian, and
in the senate he had fought secession as Jackson
would have fought it. He was the only senator from
the seceded states who retained his seat, and was wiser
than the Southern leaders ; knew if it came to war,
the South were to be the losers. He used no fine
terms ; rebellion he called treason, and the leaders.

MRS. JOHNSON. 347
traitors. " Were I the President," he said, " I would
have every one arrested, tried, and if convicted (em
phasized with a big round oath), they should hang as
high as Haman."
The fire-eaters were in a blaze of fury ; burned him
in effigy, and threatened him with lynching ; even a
price was set upon his head.
Lincoln appointed him' military governor of Ten
nessee and he entered upon his Jacksonian methods
with vigor. The , raayor and coraraon councfl of
Nashville, with the editors, were in the penitentiary
at once.
He issued an order declaring that if one Union
man be maltreated, five rebels shall be seized, impris
oned and suffer the full rigor of the law. If Union
property be destroyed, rebel property shall make it
good, with pressed down measure.
Then came a still more stringent order. If a dis
loyal word be spoken, the offender shall take the oath
of allegiance to the Union, give bonds in one thou
sand dollars for keeping quiet, or otherwise be sent
South, and if such an one ever came again within
Federal lines was to be hung.
Six clergyman were charged with preaching
treason from their pulpits, and these were added to
the number behind the bars.
The city was besieged by the rebel array, and
some would fain surrender, lest worse might come.

348 MRS. JOHNSON.
" I am no military man," thundered Johnson, " but
any one who talks of surrender, I will shoot."
One so loyal, so bold, won the hearts of the Re
publicans, and he was put on the same ticket with
Lincoln for his second term. •
When the intelligence reached Nashville, he was
asked to address a mass meeting which had assem
bled to ratify his noraination.
In his speech, he said : " Slavery is dead. I told
you long ago what the end would be if you tried to
go out of the Union to save slavery, — that the end
would be bloodshed, rapine, devastated fields, plun
dered villages and cities ; and therefore I urged you
to reraain in the Union. In trying to save slavery,
you killed it and lost your own freedom. Your slav
ery is dead ; but I did not murder it. As Macbeth
said to Banquo's bloody ghost,
' Thou canst not say I did it :
Never shake thy gory locks at me.' "
Lincoln seemed tame, inert, beside this man of
might. Johnson had in his own family suffered grave
injuries from the rebel troops. His household was
made up of woraen and children, and they were
ordered from their home. Woraen of the North and
those out of the raflitary districts of the South can
forra little conception of the sufferings and anxieties
of those exposed to the mercies of the troops.

MRS. JOHNSON. . 349
Mrs. Johnson spent two months of the spring of
1 86 1 with her husband at Washington, but her fail
ing health unfitted her for hotel life, and she returned
to her home among the raountains. At that time,
none thought things would come to the pass they
did. In the spring of 1862, East Tennessee was in the
hands of the rebels. Mrs. Johnson, with her fam
ily, were ordered by General Kirby Smith to leave
their home and pass beyond the lines in thirty-six
hours. She was too ill to obey, and the rebels merci
fully allowed her a respite. '
In the auturan, she, with her children and her son-in-
law, Mr. Stover, started for Nashville. The rebels held
Murfreesboro, and for Union people there were no
accommodations. They wandered about in the night,
asking for food and shelter ; as they were plodding
back to the station, which was a long way from the
town, one woman with a soft, pitiful heart, yet full of
terror lest her mercy should be her ruin, offered them
shelter, if they would leave at dawn. An order to go
back to Greenville awaited them at the station ; they
could not pass the lines. Back they started; Mrs. John
son was in constant terror lest her sons and son-in-law
would be shot before her eyes, for again and again it
was threatened. Somehow, a friend got a pass for
thera to go to Nashville, which was within the Union
lines. . A second night they were at Murfreesboro ;

350 MRS. JOHNSON.
this time they did not try the hospitalities of the
town, but remained at the station through the night,
without food or beds, save sorae dry bread for the lit
tle ones.
A noted rebel, who had known thera in happier
days, pitied the helpless woraen, and telegraphed to
Richraond for a safe-conduct.
Mr. Johnson awaited them at Nashville, though
they had been told repeatedly that he was killed.
For raany months Mrs. Johnson never left her room.
Some time after their arrival,- her daughter, Mrs. Pat
terson, with her children, passed through the railitary
lines, and the family were united. A terrible grief
was in store for thera. A son, who was a surgeon in
the army, was thrown from his horse and instantly
kifled. When the military governor was chosen vice-presi
dent, he went to Washington, and the family were
about to return to their home in Greenville, but the
fatal Good Friday came, with its awful tragedy, and
they went to Washington instead.
Mrs. Patterson was the oldest of the five chfldren ;
the poverty and cares of her parents in their early
raarried life had imposed such serious burdens upon
this daughter, that she seeraed frora chfldhood unlike
other girls ; she said herself, she never had tirae to
play. When her father was chosen senator, he
brought her to Washington, and placed her at the

MRS. JOHNSON. 351
faraous Acaderay of the Visitation at Georgetown,
where so raany of the senator's daughters were edu
cated. Whfle Mr. Johnson was in the service of the state,
his family spent some time with him in NashviHe and
raade acquaintance with Mrs. Polk ; when Miss Mar
tha came to Washington, she gave her a standing in
vitation to spend her holidays at the Executive Man
sion ; though the lady was very kind, she was so
stately, and the house was conducted in so ceremo
nious and so grave a manner, that these visits were
dreaded seasons for the shy country girl. Her edu
cation finished, she returned home, and five years
later married Judge Patterson. The wedding trip
was to Nashville at the tirae her father was governor,
and then extended through the Southern states.
After joining her faraily at Nashville, in 1863, Rebel
and Union arraies by turns held East Tennessee, and
the entire contents of her house were destroyed. Mrs.
Polk in her carriage joined the procession in honor of
Lincoln when the funeral cortige passed through Nash
ville, and Mrs. Patterson was by her side.
In June, the president's family joined him in Wash
ington. The White House, after all the sad scenes
enacted in it, was dirty and dilapidated. Mrs. John
son never appeared in society but once, and that was
at a party given by her grandchildren, and her care
worn, pale face, and sunken eyes attested that she

352 MRS. JOHNSON.
was physically unable to preside over the Executive
Mansion or receive its guests.
Those who thought the President's family were to
be a weight upon him, were little acquainted with
his daughters. Mrs. Patterson was reserved, dig
nified, possessed all the mental characteristics cf
her father, and upon her devolved the social duties
of the White House. She could hardly be called a
novice, for in her frequent visits with Mrs. Polk
she had become acquainted with Mrs. Madison, the
Blairs, and many others of the old families, who
gladly welcoraed her return to the capital.
When some of the new leaders of Washington
society tendered patronage, Mrs. Patterson quietly
reraarked : "We are a plain people frora the raoun
tains of East Tennessee, called here for a short time
by a national calamity, but we know our position and
know how to raaintain it."
When interviewed by a reporter, she said : " We
are a plain people, sir, from the mountains of Ten
nessee, and we do not propose to put on airs be
cause we have the fortune to occupy this place for
a little whfle." In this dignified manner she dis
armed criticism and repulsed impertinence.
On New Year's Day, 1866, the President held his
first reception, assisted by both his daughters, who
were dressed richly, but very simply. Mrs. Stover
was a blonde of the statuesque style, and looked

-VmRS. JOHNSON. 353
very lovely in the mourning she wore for her hus
band, who had died two years before.
In the spring. Congress appropriated thirty thou
sand dollars for renovating the mansion. It was a-
very small sum for the needs, but Mrs. Patterson's
good taste and prudence in buying made it look
handsomer than ever it had in times past. The
traditional colors were preserved i;i the drawing-
rooms, the walls were panelled in gilt raouldings, and
the furniture was far raore elegant than that which iti
had replaced. She kept the rooms ornamented with
a profusion of rare flowers, and they were always
ready to be seen by the crowds who carae ^afly.
The State dinners were particularly elegant, and
conducted on a generous, princely scale.
She confined herself exclusively to the social duties,
and never could be induced to use her influence in
official affairs. When the unhappy Anna Surratt
threw herself prostrate upon one of the floors of-
an ante-room in the White House, begging to see
Mrs. Patterson, she said: "Tell the girl she has my
sympathy, ray tears, but I have no more right to
speak than the servants of the house."
During the irapeachraent, she was particularly dig
nified and reticent, went on calraly fulfilling her
duties, saying, " we have nothing to do but wait."
Johnson was not a drinking raan, but unfortunately,
not feeling well, he took two glasses of brandy, and

354 MRS. JOHNSON.
came to take the oath of office as vice-president in a
state of extreme intoxication, disgracing hiraself and
his high position. Lincoln had known the raan for
years, and comforted a Republican bowed with
shame, by saying, "he (Johnson) made a slip, but
don't be scared, Andy ain't a drunkard." This
"slip" occasioned much unfavorable comraent, and
in his unpopular career he was often taunted with if.
Three hours after the death of Lincoln, he took the
oath of office, and quietly assumed the duties of the
Presidency. The difficulties of Johnson's administration grew
out of a difference of opinion between hiraself and
Congress upon the reconstruction of the states.
When traitors rioted in their treason, and flaunted
their rebeflious sentiments in the Senate as they
were retiring, Andrew Johnson roared defeat to
secession, and defence of the Union into their ears,
while Northern men stood shaking with their fears,
but now his measures were softer toward the " err
ing sisters " than Congress approved. He wished
to grant pardons and receive states as if the execu
tive power were supreme ; on the other hand, it was
claimed that Congress alone had the power to raake
conditions for the re-adraission of the seceded states,
and many were inclined to make the way of the
transgressors very hard, and the conditions severe.
It was war to the hilt between the President and

MRS. JOHNSON. 355
Congress ; the latter would pass bflls and the former
would 'veto them, and again Congress would pass
them over the President's veto, asserting that he
had broken his promises and betrayed his friends.
They surrounded hira with hedges and ditches,
but Andrew Johnson, to have his own head, had
spirit enough to break through the densest hedges,
and bridge the broadest ditches. The obstructions
themselves seemed to rouse the natural obstinacy
of the man, and a defiance of all control.
When he would remove one of his cabinet in
violation of what was called the Tenure of Office
Bill, which he had vetoed. Congress cast off all re
straint, and ordered that he be impeached for high
crimes and raisdemeanors.
After a tedious three months' trial, he was ac
quitted by a single vote, which was said to have
been given, lest worse raight come through Mr.
Wade, who would fill his place.
The objectionable and discomfited Secretary of
War, Stanton, resigned, and Evarts, who had de
fended the President, was appointed in his place.
Johnson's best friends had not approved his course,
but they manfully defended him from the charge of
conspiring to sell the fruits of the war to the South,
or, in other words, of having turned traitor.
The English and French had refrained from active
intervention in favor of the Confederate States, but

356 MRS. JOHNSON.
the latter had taken advantage of our divided house
hold to atterapt a settleraent upon the Araerican
Continent, and an Archduke of Austria had been
chosen Eraperor of Mexico. At the time, the
United States government had made as strong an
effort as they were able, to enforce the Monroe
doctrine, but upon the surrender at Appomattox,
the dream of dorainion upon American soil faded
from the mind of Napoleon III., and the French
troops were withdrawn, leaving the luckless Maxi
milian to his fate. If the United States government
had interceded, he would probably have been saved,
but it was thought wise that foreign potentates
should understand that the Monroe Doctrine would
be enforced to the letter.
The Indians in the southwest were suppressed by
General Sheridan, and the Fenians coraing over the
Canadian border, bent on sorae mad scheme for
delivering Ireland from British rule, by General
Meade. No wonder that the massive, resolute face of the
inflexible President grew haggard, and his four years
of office turned him into an old man, for, with all
these cares and anxieties, he kept up his impotent
conflict with Congress.
However, there were some very notable events in
his administration, which savored only of peace and
good will. By diploraacy and money, the country

MRS. JOHNSON. 357
was enlarged by" the five hundred thousand square
miles of Alaska. A Chinese Erabassy came for the
first tirae, granting the governraent iraraense cora
mercial advantages, and the people liberty to pray
and worship araong the sons of Confucius, according
to our own custoras.
Perhaps the raost wonderful achieveraent of all
was the successful laying of the Atlantic cable by
Cyrus W. Field.
Slavery was entirely abolished, and civil rights
given to the blacks.
The President's gracious Christmas gift in 1868,
was a full pardon to all, save -the President of the
Confederacy, who had taken part in the rebellion.
The interest on the immense public debt was
promptly raet, and many round millions paid upon
the principal.
Out of the thirty-four states, all but three were in
amicable relations with the governraent, and for the
presidency, as well as Congressmen, to represent
themselves, voted just the same, as if they had not
hustled out of the Union eight years before.
Surely it was an administration fraught with great
events successfully brought to a close. Notwith
standing the ruin and destruction by the war, the
country was prosperous.
The bullet of an assassin had placed Andrew
Johnson in the presidential chair, but the voice of

358 MRS. JOHNSON.
the nation was that he had not honored his high
office. His own party would not nominate hira, his
best friends had becorae his most bitter foes, and he
sank into obscurity.
General Grant was his successor, and the two
were at variance. Johnson had once impugned the
honor of the soldier, which had so offended hira that
on the day of his inauguration, he refused to ride in
the sarae carriage with him.
The family had no sooner returned to their home
among the Tennessee mountains, than a terrible
domestic affliction fell upon them. A second time
death came like a thief in the night, and snatched
one of their number when in perfect health. A son
was walking in the street at five o'clock, and at
eleven mysteriously died.
The cares of office and the discordant tumult in
which Andrew Johnson had lived, seriously impaired
his health.
After a retirement of six years he was elected
United States Senator frora Tennessee.
He took. his seat March 4, 1875, and died in the
suramer at his home, soon after the adjournment of
Congress. The invalid wife whom he had so tenderly guarded
outlived him, reaching the allotted span of three
score years and ten.

MRS. GRANT.
In the first quarter of the present century there
was a man in Ohio, of Scotch descent, who had three
sons. The raan was a tanner by trade, and would
fain have brought up his sons to the sarae business,
but the eldest had no mind to be a tanner. He had
been a hard-working boy, with no advantages but the
common village school, which was only open three
months in winter.
The father had no means of helping hira outside
of his own career, but if he could gain adraittance to
the Military Acaderay at West Point, government
would support, educate, and teach him a trade,
whereby he might earn his own living. The boy
proved to have fine abflities, and this economical
plan was successfully carried out. He had been
named Hiram to please his grandfather, and Ulysses
to please his grandmother, whose fancy had been
taken by the story of Penelope, who, to keep off
suitors, sat for twenty years among her maidens
unravelling by night what she had done in the day,
feeling sure, if she were patient and faithful, her
great husband, the Grecian Ulysses, would come
back to her ; the boy's surname was Grant.
359

360 MRS. GRANT.
By some mistake of the congressman who ap
pointed him to a cadetship, the War Department
entered his name as Ulysses Simpson, and as it is
raade up of a class who are too busy to be bothered
with trifles, his name- was as fixed as if he had been
christened thus ; he was never christened at all, so
it didn't rauch matter.
At the end of the four years' course, he was sent,
with the rank of second lieutenant, to Jefferson
Barracks, the largest military post in the country,
near St. Louis, to watch and keep in place the vaga
bond and exasperated Indians. It was a raonoto
nous, dreary life, and for a tirae the young man
rather . chafed- under it, but fate opened a way to
lighten it.
One of Lieutenant Grant's classmates at West
Point was Fred T. Dent, whose famfly lived on an
estate called White Haven, only five miles from the
barracks. It consisted of his parents, two bachelor
brothers, and a couple of misses stfll in short dresses.
Often did the young soldiers of the garrison gallop
across country and have a taste of domestic pleas
ures. In the winter, a seventeen-year-old daughter.
Miss Julia, just out of the schoolroom at St. Louis,
came home. The house was none the less attract
ive, for the girl was full of life, high spirits, and
gladly joined in the rides and walks of the young
men.

MRS. GRANT. 36 1
Lieutenant Grant h'ad a furlough, which he em
ployed to visit his parents in Ohio ; while there, he
heard that his regiment was ordered to Fort Jessup
in Louisiana to form a part of General Taylor's
army, which was gathering to provoke, if possible,
a war with Mexico. He had chafed under the garrie
son life at Jefferson Barracks and longed for more
active service ; the active service loomed before him
and he shrank from it. Why ? The old story, not
as old as Adam, who never went a wooing, but old
as Cain, who did. A girl had coiled herself around
his heart ; he did not know nor even suspect that
the coil was clasped until these orders came. He was
tormented with fear, lest the girl had never given
him a thought, might reject a plea if he raade it.
To dars and to do began with Cupid before it
began with Mars and with as much determined per
tinacity — perhaps, however, his natural coolness
played him false with the forraer. In a state of
suppressed excitement he mounted his horse; the
short cut to White Haven was crossed by a fordable
creek or river, which at that time was dangerously
swollen by a heavy rain.
Grant was a man who had his superstitions, and
one was, that if you wish to do a thing successfully,
do it, with never a step backward. He was too
modest a man to hope for an easy triuraph, and in
business so moraentous as this it would never do to

362 MRS. GRANT.
have a " sign " against him. He was a bold horse
man and into the current he rode ; it was well that
he was a bold swinlraer, too, for he was soon breast
ing the current, as well as the horse. They vvere
swept down the stream, but he had the animal by
the bridle and you may be sure he headed him
toward White Haven, where he astonished the
faraily by his half-drowned appearance.
One of the young gentleraen carae to his rescue,
and in dry, but ill-fitting habfliraents, he partially
explained his foolhardy attempt. He never could
raake a speech, but when he found Miss Julia alone,
he uttered some jargon, that would have been unin
telligible if it had been heard by her mother, but
quickening heart beats in her own bosom gave the
girl marvellous powers of comprehension. If she
didn't say yes, she acknowledged she had been
depressed since she heard that the regiraent had
marching orders, and now that he had half drowned
hiraself for her sake she could not but adrait that
the depression was only on account of one soldier,
and he was that one.
Perhaps this was as much as was maidenly for a
girl of seventeen, especially as the raatter was not to
be referred to her father. Though the whole thina-
was irregular, the young soldier sailed down the
Mississippi with the light, happy heart of a suc
cessful wooer.

MRS. GRANT. 363
The parents had not been quite so blind as the
pair thought, and they deprecated what they saw, for
the young man was not particularly prepossessing,
nor did his prospects seem brilliant ; however, the
acquaintance was very brief, and then there were the
chances of war ; for the love affairs of a chit of
sevenjteen, they would cross no bridge, until they
saw the timbers laid. The girl kept her own counsel
and her constancy.
Lieutenant Dent nearly lost his life ; was only
saved by the aid of his friend, who risked his own,
and he wrote home a glowing account of the affair,
which of course won the gratitude of his parents.
General Taylor's army was first called an Army of
Observation, then an Army of Occupation, and when
the Mexicans were goaded to extremities, an Array of
Invasion ; before it assumed this latter name, with
the duties it involved, Lieutenant Grant asked for a
short furlough. His engagement was not quite on a
footing that pleased him, and a longing to see Miss
Dent before entering upon actual war made him
restive. Again he astonishes the family at White
Haven, but this time in proper mflitary trim. He
plucks up courage to interview the father and when
he leaves an eng^ement en rigle was admitted and
announced. The regiment took part in the battles of Palo Alto,
Resaca de la Palma, and Montery ; before Buena

364 ¦ MRS. GRANT.
Vista was fought, they were sent to General Scott,
who was making his way to the Mexican capital.
Several times did the services of Lieutenant Grant
have honorable mention in the official despatches.
Upon the return of the regiment in 1848, Lieuten
ant Grant married Miss Dent and after his four
months' furlough, spent in visiting took her to the
barracks at Sackett's Harbor, a mflitary post on Lake
Ontario and thence to Detroit. After testing the
pleasures and discomforts of garrison life, Mrs. Grant
paid a visit to her home at White Haven, where a
son was born.
In 1852, the Fourth Infantry, to which Grant be
longed, was ordered to the wilds of Oregon. It was
not advisable to take his wife, and he left her for a
tirae with his family, from whence she was to go to
her own relatives.
Camp life in tirae of peace was ever irksome to
Grant, and added to the separation from his famfly
seemed insupportable ; though he had been promoted
to the rank of captain, he resigned and carae home.
He was poor, had no prospects, and his family was
increased by the birth of a second son.
Mrs. Grant owned sorae land near St Louis;
thither he went, and with his own hands put up a
house which sheltered thera from the weather ; then
he began farming. It was not that he shirked hon
est work — would cut, load, and draw his wood to

MRS. GRANT. 365
market, like any practical farmer ; but there was no
aptitude in the raan for business or money making.
The farm in his hands began to run behindhand, and
the poor locality brought on fever and ague, which
incapacitated him from work.
His wife's family did their best to prop him up,
and under their auspices, he tried the business of a
real estate agent, tax collector, and auctioneer, but
nothing prospered or afforded support for his growing
faraily — now, there were four little ones to care for,
and each was born in the home of his father or of
hers. Disheartened, he went to his father in Galena for
counsel. The tannery business which he had refused
to learn when a boy, was prosperous, and work in it
was offered him. The vats were no raore to his lik
ing than they were years before ; indeed, were
doubly distasteful by being under the control of his
younger brothers, but to gain honest bread for his
faraily, he sacrificed inclination, crushed down pride,
and upon meagre pay settled at Galena. He was
not a Republican ; his political sympathies were
rather with the South, and he had voted for Buchanan^
but the firing upon the flag at Surater to him, as to
most Northern people, meant rebellion and treason.
"Uncle Sara," he said, "educated me for the army,
and, although I have served faithfully through one
war, I feel that I am stifl a little in debt for my edu-

366 MRS. GRANT.
cation, and I am ready and willing to discharge the
obligation." Step by step he rose, and whei ever he went, swept
like a tornado among the rebels and mowed with a
bloody scythe, but he was matched with foemen
worthy of his steel, and on both sides priceless blood
flowed like water.
That miserable four years of Civil War seemed,
even to those far away from its horrors, like a cycle
of time, which would have no end.
He, who had begun as a simple volunteer captain
brought it to a close at Appomattox with the rank of
lieutenant-general — rank which had only been held
in our country by Washington and Scott, and Scott
only by brevet.
General Grant's moderation and magnanimity to
the conquered placed a stamp on his greatness, even
greater than his military skill.
Mrs. Grant had spent rauch tirae at array head
quarters, but now a house was taken in Washington,
and for the first tirae in her married life, a home and
easy circumstances were corabined ; the next four
years are said to have been the happiest in the gen
eral's life. With honors enough to sate arabition, an
appointraent for life in his favorite line, araple pay, a
pleasant horae, — what more could man desire ? He
was content, but not the Republican party : they
chose him for their standard-bearer, and in an evil

MRS. GRANT. 367
hour for his peace and comfort, he lifted the standard
aloft, and had becorae so used to success, that when
elected, he said : " The responsibilities of the posi
tion I feel, but I accept thera without fear ; " as fear
lessly had he accepted railitary responsibility, saying :
" I feel as sure of taking Richmond, as I do of dying."
He asked no counsel, — had no confidants, and
even playfully teased his wife about his fears lest she
should rise in the small hours and read his secrets.
His sobriquet was the sphinx, and no man better
deserved the title.
Men had crowded from all parts of the country,
and never was there a more imposing display at the
national capital, than at the inauguration of General
Grant. The day was wet, bitterly cold, and the raud
ankle deep. He had refused to ride to the Capitol in the
sarae carriage with Johnson, who sat, soured and sad,
in the White House, untfl the booming of- cannons
warned him that he was no longer master, and must
give vvay to the man whom he most detested.
The new President began somewhat as an autocrat,
and had a plenty of difficulties before him.
Owing to his secretive methods, there was a diffi
culty in the beginning about making up a cabinet.
Those chosen, first read of their appointments in
the newspapers after the inauguration ; oiie was in
eligible, some declined the honor, and there were re
peated changes.

368 MRS. GRANT.
The Senate had rejected the Clarendon-Johnson
treaty, in the Alabama affair, and unless a new treaty
could be arranged, war might be the result ; the Eng
lish tories were doing. their best to bring it about, urg
ing a violation of the treaty for arbitration, and there
was much bitter feeling. The Secretary of State
was very wise and very moderate, but he insisted
that there should be on the part of England an ex
pression of regret for the escape of the " Alabaraa " and
the depredations upon our commerce, — the pay for
damages was to be an after consideration. Only those
in power knew the ominous size of the war cloud —
but firmness and nice diplomacy dissipated it, and the
United States, having but just emerged from a civil
war, were spared a foreign one. England expressed
proper regret and awarded fifteen million doHars in
gold for direct injuries.
At the time we acquired Oregon, no one compre
hended its value, and now the English raised a diffi
culty about the justice of the northwestern boundary,
but by mutual consent the question was submitted to
the German Eraperor, who decided in favor of the
United States.
The little republic of Santa Domingo had con
quered independence, and knocked for admission
to the Union of the United States. To receive
her was a favorite measure of the President, but
Congress took an opposite view, and he was wiser

MRS. GRANT. 369
than Andrew Johnson in his dealings with that
august body.
When the Spaniards, in their vigilance to guard
their fairest jewel, fired upon, the United States fiag,
on the high seas, before any overt act had been com
mitted by the fillibusters on board the " Virginius," the
Executive carried a high hand and a resolute spirit.
Spain was compelled to make an apology and restore
the vessel.
Iron had forged a path from ocean to ocean,
and the dream of the fifteenth century was fulfilled
by finding a short route to India.
With no foreign inbroglio, an abandonraent of the
ironclad oath, and an amnesty to all save one, an era
of peace and prosperity seemed to dawn upon the
country so recently rent in pieces and baptized with
blood. When one city fell in cinders, the South as
well as the North stretched forth a helping hand ;
surely, the wounds are all cicatrized and it is to be
hoped the next generation will see no scar.
The social life of the White House went gayly on.
Mrs. Grant was not one to like the raansion for its
associations with the historic past — would have pre
ferred a new, modern palace, but she enjoyed her
position as first lady and if not " to the manner born,"
had too rauch sense of her own importance to allow
any patronage.
Coming after Mrs. 'Lincoln and the daughters of

3 To MRS. GRANT.
Johnson, who lived under a cloud, and played their'
rdles from duty rather than inclination, she formed a
pleasing contrast, and the best society of the capital
Rocked to her receptions, where she introduced the
pretty custom that stifl prevafls, of surrounding her
self with ladies of distinction to assist in doing the
honors. ;
The state dining-room was frequently opened and
everything was conducted in a liberal style. It is
said that she entertained more distinguished guests
than any who had preceded her.
Among all the nations of Europe, Russia had been
the most friendly during the Rebellion, but unfor
tunately, when the czar's son, the Duke Alexis, came
to our shores, there was an unpleasantness with the
Russian minister, and as he was not included in
the proffered hospitalities of the Executive Man
sion, the grand duke declined to receive them.
The czar thought it was not good treatment,
and said so plainly to the American ambassador at
his court.
Victoria's son. Prince Arthur, came, and he too
thought proper attention to his royal highness was
wanting on the part of the Executive. The beard
less boy of nineteen expected a man representing the
majesty of the United States, and old enough to be
his father, to return one of his visits. The President
invited him to a dinner and went to a ball given in

MRS. GRANT. 371
his honor, and thought that it was not befitting his
dignity to do more.
Among the royal guests came Dom Pedro and
Donna Teresa, who found no cause for complaint ;
perhaps, because the blood of Braganza is regener
ated on American soil, and not so deeply imbued
with divine rights as that of European princes.
If there were any one thing in Grant's adminis
tration for which sober-minded men honored him, it
was his veto of the inflation bfll. It was such a
party measure that his action was unexpected and
unhoped for. He was a man of quick decision, but
to do or not to do this thing, hung in the balance for
nine days and robbed him of sleep. Senator Ed
munds came at the last moment, ready to go on his
knees, if need were, but was made happy by being
told that the President had decided without regard
to party, and a veto was ready.
The eldest son of the President was a cadet at
West Point.
Miss Neflie, the only daughter, was placed at a
boarding-school ; but life at liome with her saddle-
horse, her pony carriage, and a plan of conducting
affairs very much as she pleased, was much more to
her taste, and she usually managed to enjoy it. She
was too sweet and natural to be spoiled, and became
a universal favorite.
Four comparatively quiet years rolled by, and there

372 MRS. GRANT.
was to be another election. The President was not
as popular as he had been ; tbere were outspoken
charges of incompetency and nepotism, but he was
unanimously nominated, and elected by a large major
ity. Once more there was a grand inauguration. It
fell upon one of the coldest days ever known in
Washington. The breath of the musicians con
densed in the valves of their instruments. The
President rode in his open barouche, drawn by four
bay horses. The cadets from West Point were
privileged to come and witness the honors lavished
upon one who had risen from their ranks. A dis
tinguished feature of the procession was the First
Troop of Phfladelphia City cavalry, carrying its
historic flag bearing thirteen stripes, presented in
1778. There was no heating apparatus prepared for the
hall of the inaugural ball, and the ladies danced in
their wraps and the gentlemen in their overcoats ;
the ices and drinks were frozen solid.
Speculation had been rife for months. Thoughtful
business men had dimly dreaded a crash, realizing
that the apparent prosperity was only seemino-.
It was on the principle expressed by Lincoln's
homely saying, " never swap horses in the middle of
a stream," that the Republican candidate had been
elected. In the summer came what bears the name
of "the panip of ^873," as meraorable as that of

MRS. GRANT. 373
1837. All at once the corruption of the administra
tion was unveiled. The details of whiskey rings,
frauds, steals, and swindles, coming one after another
appalled the nation. The President and his family
had accepted so many gifts, that Sumner stamped it
as " the epoch of gift enterprises."
It was at this time that Conkling won his imperish
able renown of being an honest man. So many of his
peers had gone down in the Credit Mobilier Com
pany, that he seemed to rise to a colossal height, to
whora the nation were expected to make obeisance,
as if honesty were an abnormal trait araong Ameri
cans. It would indeed h^ve been a bold man to
have asked official action for private gain of Roscoe
Conkling. The President had had no political training, and
was not given to taking advice from those who had.
He was exonerated from all personal complicity in
the frauds, but the dishonor reflected upon the
administration. Never was there a time when so
many prorainent men were tried for bribery. The
President boldly said : " Let no guilty man escape,"
and never had one in his station so many personal
friends - behind the bars. He had, unfortunately,
surrounded himself with raen, who, if they were born
honest, were as weak as Eve, and fell under the first
temptation. England and the Indians generally loom up with

374 MRS. GRANT.
a difficulty in every administration, and Grant's
formed no exception to the rule.
The Modocs played a treacherous game in Oregon,
and the Sioux, exasperated by being driven from their
reservations by the white man's greed for gold,
donned the war-paint and began their futile struggle
for their rights. They were routed, punished, and
scattered, as usual ; but the nation had to mourn the
loss of the heroic Custer and his brave band.
The centennial observances made the era memo
rable. The one at Philadelphia, to celebrate the
hundredth .anniversary of the Declaration of Inde
pendence, brought crowds frora all parts of the
Union, and the products of all lands to pur shores.
It gave us an impetus in decorations and the arts,
which we have never lost.
Grant has been called the regenerator of the
national capital. Immense suras were wisely spent.
The city was paved, and the raud and dust for which
it was noted are things of the past, and since, it has
been classed among the most beautiful cities in the
world. General Grant wished for raore power than he had
been wifling to accord to Johnson. If he said to a
cabinet minister, " Go," he expected him to go, and
didn't like to turn to Congress and say, "by your
leave." Mrs, Grant was not a woman to offensively meddle

MRS. GRANT, 375
in official affairs, nor was the general a man to allow
it. It was naturally a matter of pride to have her
family provided with soft places by .her husband,
who had leaned on them in the early married days,
and had been looked upon as a failure. She gave a
gay wedding to Miss Platt, who married General
Russel Hastings.
Miss Nelly was verging toward womanhood and
was a cause of sorae anxiety. She was quite be
witching, and beardless boys flocked adrairingly
about her. Perhaps Mrs. Grant had in mind her
own early heart-giving, and feared that this daughter
might give hers, but not so wisely. A friend was
going to Europe, and it was planned that she should
take this school girl, or, rather, girl who wouldn't go
to school, just to keep her out of harm's way.
The American minister to St. James's, knowing
what was exacted when the royal children went out
of the kingdom, deterrained that due honor should
be accorded -to the daughter of the man who rep
resented the majesty of his own country. He
informed the Minister for Foreign Affairs of her
arrival, and he informed the Queen. Victoria was
gracious, and sent an invitation for " Miss Grant and
the lady who accompanied her" to pay a visit at
Buckingham Palace.
There were garden parties, and all kinds of social
gayeties among the nobflity, where Miss Nelly was

37-6 MRS. GRANT.
* * • TT J
treated as if she were an American princess. Had
she not been received by the Queen at a private
audience ! If she were not versed in conventional
forms, her winsome ways, and sweet, unaffected
manners stood her in better stead, and she was much
admired. Miss Nelly was an excellent sailor, knew nothing
of mal de mer, while her chaperon on the return
voyage was so grievously afflicted with it that she
was constantly confined to her stateroom, the only
time her services were seriously needed by her
charge. The mother's plan has signafly faHed. An Eng
lish lover paid his suit, and Miss Nelly did not say
him nay. Mr. Algernon Sartoris was the second
son of Mr. Sartoris, who married one of the tal-
entefl Kemble family ; he had no property or busi
ness prospects. The practical father of Miss Nelly
would listen to no such love tale as that, and the
young gentleman was dismissed. A few months
later, his elder brother died. The English lover
was now the heir, and with bolder mien he came
again and stood before the President, and asked to
wed sweet Nelly Grant., The father was not pleased,
but the girl's heart had gone into this man's keeping,
and it would be tyranny to refuse consent.
In May, 1874, there was a braw wedding at the
White House ; the bride was arrayed in white sflk,

MRS. GRANT. 377
trimmed with almost priceless lace, the gift of her
father. " Marry in May,
Rue it alway."
If report speak truly, Mrs. Sartoris has a pleas
ant horae, but instead of being a cherished wife, is
rather the beloved daughter-in-law of an old man.
Mr. Algernon Sa,rtoris spends most of his time
away from horae, and his infrequent visits are
hardly a source of pleasure to his faraily.
Mrs. Sartoris is the mother of three children, — has
grown stouter and coarser, and look's older than her
years, but has never lost her talent of winning the
hearts of those with whom she comes in contact.
The cadet at West Point had graduated, and after
Mrs. Sartoris left, married Miss Honord of Chicago,
and becarae an inmate of the Executive Mansion ;
in due time the faraily party was made up of three
generations. The second term was drawing to a close, and
there was even the talk of a third, but the prestige
of the President was gone ; he declined to have his
narae used, and it was said that if the party were
to remain in power, there must be a new standard-
bearer. Mrs. Grant loved place and power, and was too ,
much imbued with a sense of her husband's great- i
ness and importance to fear defeat. She could

378 MRS. GRANT.
hardly forgive him for having, unknown to her,
refused to be a candidate.
The frauds and corruptions developed in the ad
ministration told heavily against the Republican
party, and the election was a hotly contested one,
and when it was over, it was a disputed one. For
a time, the aspect of affairs looked very critical ;
looked as if what the grinding rocks of Scylla had
spared, the whirlpool of Charybdis would swallow.
When Congress assembled, none knew whom to
call president-elect. An electoral commission was
devised to examine the returns, ahd determine the
result, which .was in favor of the Republican candi
date, "Mr. Hayes. The Democrats felt that fraud
had been practised, and were naturally outraged.
Mr. Tflden, their nominee, was urged to stand for
his rights, and the party would have endorsed him,
but he was too much of a patriot to fan the flaraes
of a hardly quenched civil war for his personal ag
grandizement or party power. General Grant took
no active part until the decision was announced.
It brought the man into his natural eleraent. If
there were to be a conflict, he made ready to meet
it There was no offensive display of power, but
there was a masterly skill in the arrangement of
affairs which ensured a peaceful corapliance with
the laws.
Let none ever doubt the strength of the warp and

MRS. GRANT. 379
the woof of our constitutional government. An ex-
president of the French republic said other gov
ernments raight have coped with civil war and
Jived, but none but the American could have borne
the strain of a disputed election treading upon the
heels of the war. The decision of the electoral
commission was given only three days before the
day of the inauguration.
Mr. and Mrs. Hayes came to the capital on the
second ; General Grant not only courteously invited
them to dine at the Executive Mansion on the third,
but to name the guests they would like to meet.
The fourth came on Sunday, and as Mr. Hayes had
scruples about being sworn in on that day, the
general made arrangements that he should take
the oath that Saturday evening, which was quietly
done in the Red Room, without the knowledge of
the other guests.
Mrs. Grant's feelings were so strong that she
would not witness the inauguration of the man who
displaced her husband, yet she did the unusual but
graceful thing of remaining to receive her successor.
A handsome entertainment was laid and a party of
friends stood ready to welcome and congratulate the
inaugural corapany. The raansion was left in per
fect order ; thoughtfulness had even gone so far as
to provide a clay's supply for the table.
As travelling was General Grant's favorite arause-

380 MRS. GRANT.
ment, he determined, upon being freed from the
cares of office, to make a journey round the world.
Preparations began at once, and in May he sailed,
accompanied by Mrs. Grant and their youngest son,
Jesse. Ovations and honors such as he received at
home awaited hira on English sofl. Even royalties
deigned to entertain him, and the newspaper accounts
of their manner of doing it amused his countrymen.
The Prince and Princess of Wales who were enter
taining the Emperor and Empress of Brazil, led
royalty in dining th£ Amdrican chieftain. A bidden
guest is treated with honor even in Arab tents, but
araong the Guelph aristocracy they have a code of
their own. If we Araericans were to take a course
of study on the divine right of kings, vve should
never graduate with honors. The Prince and Prin
cess tendered no reception to their guests upon their
arrival ; no seats were offered. As the dinner hour
approached, the company were asked to range them
selves, men on one side of the roora, and woraen
on the other, Quaker meeting style in America.
Between these lines walked their Royal Highnesses,
mated with their imperial guests. Donna Teresa,
once politely entertained by Mrs. Grant, put Ameri
can good manners before Guelph etiquette, and
stopped and greeted Mrs. Grant, but there was no
recognition from the Prince, upon whose arm she
leaned. Royalty conversed with royalty, titled

MRS. GRANT. 38 1
aristocracy with titled aristocracy ; if tbose below
that rank could find arausement well and good ; if
not, the same. The dinner over, the hostess dis-
a,ppeared with Her Imperial Majesty. As the Gen
eral and Mrs. Grant were in the anteroom, about to
don their wraps, a servant stepped up and said the
Princess would like to bid Mrs. Grant good-night ;
she carae forward and graciously did it.
Coramend us to those Hanoverian Guelphs for
bad manners. Alas that the sweet Danish princess
should have imbibed them !
The next royal dinner offered was by the Queen
herself at Windsor, which included an invitation to
pass the night. If the visit were not conducted
according to the highest code of American polite
ness, there was none of the ill-breeding shown in the
household of the Prince.
The Queen's carriages awaited the guests at the
station. Arriving at the castle, they were informe;d
that the Queen was out driving. It looked as if
their former experiences were to be repeated. How
ever, when Her Majesty did come, she was very
gracious, greeted and conversed with each in the
kindest manner, and it is said when Victoria means
to be kind, she has a winning srafle and a royal
grace of manner which is irresistible. At dinner.
General Grant was asked to take in one of her
daughters and he sat but two removes from the

382 MRS. GRANT.
Queen. No place of honor was accorded Mrs.
Grant. A little difficulty arose, which nearly sent the
party dinnerless back to London. Master Jesse
was told that he was not to dine with the Queen,
but in another room, with the ladies and gentlemen
of the household ; he insisted that he would dine
with his hostess or not dine at Windsor at all. The
matter was referred to Her Majesty, who with tact
and good sense admitted the boy to her table.
There is an apology for the seeming discourtesy
of the Queen. Master Jesse had not been included
in the invitation to his parents, but they had allowed
a request to be made that he raight be added to the
party, which was hardly good form. The Queen had
graciously responded with a card of invitation, and
probably thought that the table which was some
times graced by the presence of the premier was not
unsuitable for this temporary scion of the White
House. The General and Mrs. Grant wandered over
Europe, Asia, and Africa, and at every court out
of England, were treated according to the rules of
good breeding established throughout the world.
After more than a two years' absence, the family
returned to Araerica, where aH the old enthusiasm
revived for the hero of Appomattox. His friends
suggested that he should be a candidate for a third

MRS. GRANT. 383
¦presidential term. The idea of again wielding the
power of the high position was very attractive to
him, and stifl more so to Mrs. Grant, who had
yielded it up so reluctantly. Both felt themselves
better fitted by their foreign travel to act their parts.
The noraination of 1880 was more fiercely contested
than elections usually are. So tenacious were his
friends, a permanent division of the party was feared ;
they stood with a solid front that neither broke rank
nor wavered, but the adverse side won, with Garfield
to lead them on to victory. The result was very
mortifying to General and Mrs. Grant, and. the
disappointment keen.
If an adrainistration be to be used for the benefit
of poor relations and personal friends, the president
in power naturally chooses that they shall at least be
his own. The ex-president had only done what he
said was his duty in placing Mr. Hayes in power,
yet he thought hiraself ill-used in not being allowed
to control a goodly amount of patronage, and the
relations of the two soon became strained. It was
the same with Garfield ; he had given efficient help,
used his influence in the campaign, and deemed it
ingratitude that a raan -should be caHed into the
cabinet of whom he disapproved. Arthur had been
raised to power by the dastardly deed of.Guiteau,
but the quondam chief went so far beyond the
bounds of delicacy in asking places for his followers

384 MRS. GRANT.
and relatives that the President was forced to assert
himself. Like Garfield, he had committed the enor
mity of placing in his Cabinet a man who had
opposed the third term, and added to the flagrancy
by passing over a man not only recommended by
General Grant, but his personal friend.
The third terra proving a faflure, the General
settled in New York, and, by the advice of one of
his sons, invested all his capital in the bank of Ward
and Fish, which was making large returns. His
little fortune grew and doubled, and soon he counted
himself a millionaire. He could draw checks at wfll,
used his power generously, and no man ever enjoyed
it raore. Ease, prosperity, and enjoyment seemed
to be but the proper crown for his great deeds.
On Christmas Eve, 1883, an era of suffering began
and a train of misfortunes followed which ended at
Mount McGregor in the sumraer of 1885. He fell
upon the ice at his own door and ruptured a rauscle
in his thigh, which confined hira to his bed for
weeks — the suffering intensified by a sharp attack
of pleurisy — and crippled him for the rest of
his life.
In the spring there were suggestions of presenting
his name in the coraing carapaign, but the soreness
of the mortification of 1880, kept hira sflent. If the
party had placed his name at the head of their ticket
and elected him, he would gladly have served, but

MRS. GRANT. 385
no persuasion could induce hira to declare hiraself a
candidate. In May, his financial difficulties carae, and tempo
rarily clouded his honor, which put hira out of the
race. The firra with which he was connected, whose
narae had been changed to that of Grant and Ward,
stopped payraent. Hobbling into his office one
morning bn crutches, his son, Ulysses, stepped for
ward, saying : " Father, you had better go home.
The bank has failed."
Two days before, without security, Mr. Wm. H.
Vanderbilt had made him a teraporary loan of one
hundred and- fifty thousand dollars, which he, in
good faith, had entrusted to his faithless partner.
Three days before, his youngest son, by his advice,
had , placed eighty thousand, his all, in the bank.
Even Mrs. Sartoris had invested her pin raoney, and
several relatives the savings of a lifetirae. It is not
strange that his cheek blanched, but he reraained
calm and faced this accumulation of losses like a
man ; but worse was to come. His integrity was
called in question. He vvho had been weighted with
honors in all lands, was stamped as a defaulter.
Then the iron entered his soul, and the strong, man
bowed in agony.
Mr. Vanderbilt behaved with princely generosity,
and would have made the loan a gift to Mrs. Grant
She, with proper pride, and with a heart overflowing

386 MRS. GRANT.
with gratitude, wrote that she could not and would
not accept it.
People, grateful for the services of her husband,
had given her a house, and to the general the in
come of a Trust Fund of two hundred and fifty
thousand dollars ; but with his inaptitude for keep
ing raoney, which exceeded that of earning it in a
business way, the task of supplying hira seemed as
hopeless as filling a fountain frora a sieve ; the man
hiraself wearied of the efforts made in his behalf, and
forbade further ones.
The house and its valuable contents, including the
swords and presents which had been lavished upon
him at home and in foreign lands, were made over to
Mr. Vanderbilt.
No business could be entered upon by himself or
sons until they were released from their liabilities.
The editors of the Century Magazine offered him
handsome remuneration for some articles upon the
war. He was averse to literary work, but honest
independence was a spur to effort, and he raade it.
Araerican people never tire of the stories of Shiloh,
Vicksburg, and the Wilderness Campaign, and when
the editors of the Century presented them direct
from the hand' of the great general himself, the
raagazine became so remunerative that they, with
rare generosity, paid a sum far beyond the stipulated
price.

MRS. GRANT. 387
This success suggested the writing of his "Me
raoirs," and several prorainent publishers made him
offers. He had no sooner settled to his work than
shooting pains in the throat, slightly felt in the
summer, painfully increased. Mrs. Grant's anxiety
and urgency induced him to consult a physician, ahd
the terrible truth was expressed in the word, cancer,
which told of a death warrant to be shortly served.
His last days were fearfully pathetic, and touched
the deeper feelings of his countrymen.
His narae and fame under a cloud, prostrated by a
mortal illness, entailing sleepless nights and fearful
suffering, he spent his days writing the story of his
life, modestly (one must read it to realize how mod-
destly) telling of his great deeds in a graphic way,
and his only incentive was the all-absorbing love he
bore his wife, children, and grandchildren. Surely,
the greatness of the past was overshadowed by the
heroism of his last days.
The gloom of that trying period was lightened by
the syrapathy exp.'"essed in every section of the
country. There was a legal examination of the affairs of the
suspended bank, which swept away the film that had
tarnished the general's honor. It was made clear to
all the world that he had been deceived — was never
the deceiver.
Arthur's last official act was to sign a bill to place

388 MRS. GRANT.
him on the retired list in the army, and Cleveland's
first, after forming his cabinet, to sign his commis
sion. This so revived his spirits that death itself
seemed to recede. He finished his " Personal Me
moirs," and thanked God that he had lived to see
" harraony and good feeling between the nations."
He was spared the acute agonies feared by his
physicians, and passed quietly away on the twenty-
third of July, surrounded by his wife and chfldren.
Mrs. Grant showed uncoraraon fortitude through
out his entire iHness, put aside her grief, and was
cheerful for his sake ; even in the dying hour she
controlled herself, held his hand and looked lovingly
into his eyes until they were closed in death.
The " Memoirs " have been even more successful
than was anticipated, and the entire family are placed
in easy circumstances by the almost superhuman
work of the great general in his raortal illness.
Mrs. Grant is one of the four living widows of e.x-
presidents, and receives a government pension of five
thousand dollars.

MRS. HAYES.
Miss Lucy Webb was born at Chillicothe, Ohio,
when it was the capital of the state. Her father and
grandfather were North Carolinians — were born
and bred in the raidst of slavery, and inherited slaves.
Reraoving into a free state, they at once imbibed
free state principles. At a serious cost they became
Abolitionists, years before the abolition party reared
its head.
In 1833, the cholera raged throughout the western
country, and Dr. James Webb, father of Miss Lucy,
fell a victira to it at Lexington, where he had gone to
make legal arrangeraents for freeing his own and his
father's negroes. The maternal grandparents were
of good Puritan stock.
Mrs. James Webb was left with a son and a
daughter, the forraer fitted and about to enter Wes
leyan University. In her fresh grief she felt that
if she were to be parted frora her only son, she would
be doubly widowed. Chillicothe offered no special
advantages for her daughter, and it was arranged that
the faraily should reraove to the town of Delaware,
the seat of the university. Miss Lucy studied with
her brother, and recited to the college professors.
389

390 MRS. HAYES.
When he graduated and entered a raedical school,
she entered the Wesleyan Feraale College at Cincin
nati, the first ever chartered for girls. Her vaca
tions were spent with her mother at Delaware.
In the town, and not far from Mrs. Webb, lived
another widow, who also had one son and one
daughter. Her husband had died of malarial bilious
fever, which is as deadly and speedy in its work as
cholera. Migrating from Vermont in her early
married days, she seemed an old settler in the town,
which was the birthplace of her boy.
She had brought frora the Green Mountains a
young brother, Sardis Birchard, who had amassed a
fortune and never married. He requited her early
care by his devotion to her and her children ; one
son, her elder one, had been drowned while skating.
The uncle's pride and affection centred upon the
remaining nephew ; his interest in him was as active
and engrossing as that of a father, and he pleased his
fancy by picturing a great career for the boy, but
even his fond fancy fell short of the reality. To be
sure, his raother had once prophesied that he would
rise to the presidency — but it was a jesting reraark,
raade to a neighbor who had said that the feeble,
wafling baby with the big head could not live, or
live only to suffer.
The boy, guided by his uncle, went to New Eng
land to be tutored for college, and a year later.

MRS. HAYES.- 391
entered Kenyon College, Ohio. Upon graduation,
he returned to New England and went through the,
Harvard Law School, at Cambridge.
He opened an office at Fremont, and lived in the
house of his uncle. He showed no special abflity ;
raen said, if he were a poor boy, and dependent on his
own earnings^ he would make his mark ; but life
was too easy.
It chanced that Miss Webb and this new-fledged
lawyer, Rutherford Birchard Hayes, spent a summer
vacation at Delaware, and met for the first time. He
was a very quiet, self-contained man, — florid, blue-
eyed, and sandy-haired, what might be called the
pure Anglo-Saxon type.
She was vivacious, dark-eyed, with a broad brow
and handsorae chin. In repose, she simply looked
very intelligent, but engage her in conversation and
the radiant smiles which constantly flitted and lighted
her face, disclosing fine teeth, made her beautiful.
Mr. Hayes found a fascination in watching her.
Ke wished to provoke those srailes, and asked for an
introduction. He had not thought of love, but the
refined, sprightly girl was a sort of inspiration to him
— life seemed to have more meaning, and his arabi
tion was roused to do soraething worthy of a raan.
Upon the return to Cincinnati, he becarae a fre
quent visitor at the Friday evening receptions allowed
the young ladies, in the college parlors, and in his

392 MRS. HAYES. '
eyes, no girl possessed the attractions and beauty of
Miss Lucy ; soon he won a proraise that she would
be his wife.
Hitherto, his uncle Birchard had held a sflver
spoon to his raouth, but now the spirit of indepen
dence awoke. He would fashion a spoon for this
girl in which there should be no silver but that
earned by his own industry. Under this new inspi
ration he applied himself to the law, and developed
those powers of which his fond uncle had so long
boasted. It was the last decade before the CivH War, and
at no tirae was the business of the country so
prosperous, or money making so easy.
Miss Webb became a meraber of the Methodist
Episcopal church, and her religious zeal acted upon
her lover. He won an honored narae araong the
poor ; fugitive slaves sought hira without fear, and
found a ready advocate. He had spent the two
happiest years of his life in association with Miss
Webb, and his business prospects entitled him to
ask her to redeem her promise. Professor L. D.
McCabe, of the Wesleyan University, performed the
marriage ceremony. The bride's only attendant was
Mr. Hayes's little niece, eight years old, who held
her hand through the service.
Mr. Hayes was at the zenith of his profession ;
chfldren were born, and wealth, honors, and domestic

MRS. HAYES. 393
happiness seeraed to starap his life with permanent
comfort, when "the shot that was heard around the
world " was fired at Sumter.
From the day that South Carolina passed the
ordinance of secession, Mr. Hayes rather wished that
war raight come, and that the vexed question which
so often disturbed the harmony of the Union might
be settled. He foresaw a long and bloody contest,
and pledged himself to serve to the end.
With the rank of tpajor, he enlisted in the
Twenty-third Ohio Volunteers, which did such val
iant service and had so bloody a record at South
Mountain. Major Hayes had becorae colonel, and
after being severely wounded in his arm, led the
Twenty-third in one of the terrible charges up the
heights. The flag hung in rags, but it never went
down, though there were but one hundred men left
to rally round it, and their colonel was carried from
the field, fainting from the loss of blood.
In her horae at Cincinnati, Mrs. Hayes read the
narae of her husband in the list of the wounded ;
with no clue to guide her, save that he went down
at South Mountain, she hastened to search for hira.
The wounded were scattered over all that region ;
those who could be moved were sent a long dis
tance away. Every church, house, barn, or shed,
were full. Mrs. Hayes had a weary search for
six — what seemed endless, days — often obliged to

394 MRS. HAYES.
retrace her steps. Sick at heart, she went through
house after house, scanning the ghastly faces of the
wounded, before she ascended a flight of rickety
stairs in a little, old, dilapidated, two-story brick
buflding, where lay the gallant colonel of the Twenty-
third Ohio Volunteers.
Fortunately, he was attended by Mrs. Hayes's
brother, who determined to make an attempt to save
his arm, which had been pronounced impossible, and
he had himself requested amputation. Ohio ,sur-
geons, -who were looking up and caring for the
wounded of their state, came in just after the ar
rival of Mrs. Hayes. The colonel, suffering with
pain, threatened with mortification, gave them for
parting words : " Tell Governor Tod that I'll be on
hand again shortly."
When he returned to active duty, he held the
rank of brigadier-general, and served in the Shenan
doah Valley, saving the supply train when Sheridan
made his twenty miles ride. He lay bruised from a
fafl, when that gallant officer dashed up upon his
black hoTse, flecked with foam, shouting to the
routed troops: "Turn about, boys — vve are going
the other way — we are going to have a good thing
on them now, boys ! " The '" good thing " is iraraor-
talized in the annals of the war.
Mrs. Hayes, who spent two summers and one
winter in camp, endeared herself to the regiment

MRS. HAYES. 395
by her attentions to the ill and the wounded. The
general laughs, and says she won favor by mending
an old blouse for a half-witted fellow. His comrades
told hira that a woraan had come to do the mending
for the soldiers, and was lodged at the general's
headquarters. In good faith he carried her his tat
tered garment. Mrs. Hayes comprehended the sit
uation in a moraent, and raended the blouse as if
it were her business, deterrained to save the fellow
frora being the butt of the regiment. The men were
somewhat ashamed, but declared the general's wife
was "garae," and gave her the name of "Mother of
the Regiment."
In 1864, General Hayes was nominated for Con
gress, and a politician wrote, urging him to corae
and canvass the state. " Any raan who would leave
the army to electioneer for Congress ought to be
scalped," was his answer. " Hayes is stumping the
Shenandoah Valley," was pla!ced on the banner of
the party, and roused a wfld enthusiasra. He was
elected but refused to resign. To a friend who
wished hira to come and share his apartraents, he
wrote : " I shall never corae to Washington until I
can corae by the way of Richraond." In the winter
of 1865 he entered Congress, and resigned in 1867,
having been chosen Governor of Ohio. In 1874, his
uncle, Sardis Birchard, died, leaving him heir to his
large estate and banking business.

396 MRS. HAYES.
In the Republican Convention at Cincinnati in
1S76, Mr. Hayes was norainated for the presidency.
Though he was no party to it, it is a little singular
that fraud was attached both to his noraination and
- election. Mr. Blaine was expected to be the win
ning candidate. The Sunday previous to the Con
vention, a sudden illness, induced by exciteraent and
extreme heat, prostrated him on his way to church.
This slight attack, magnified by his opponents,
worked unfavorably, and, added to the false state
ment, crowded hira from the place. For hours the
voting had gone on and the " Plumed Knight " was
gaining at every ballot, but the long summer's day
was waning and the tellers called for the lighting of
the gas. "The buflding is not supplied with gas,"
spake a prominent citizen, with bold effrontery. In
the hubbub the Cpnvention adjourned. The next
morning the tide for Mr. Blaine had ebbed, and Mr.
Hayes received the nomination.
The first returns in Noveraber gave the election
to Mr. Tilden ; soon fraud was charged. An Elec
toral Coramission, chosen to decide the matter, gave
a report in favor of Mr. Hayes. Those who asserted
there was fraud were strengthened in their belief
by the refusal of the party to allow Conkling, the
Colossus of honesty, on the Commission, and boldly
declared that there had been a cunningly devised
plan for declaring Mr. Hayes legally elected, con-

MRS. HAYES. 397
trary to the face of the returns. Rather than
abet fraud, Conkling would have been drawn in
pieces. Governor Hayes, with his family, left Columbus
on the first of March, having been notified by his
friends that the Electoral Commission would decide
in his favor. The certified result was telegraphed
and received on the train.
Arriving in Washington in a pouring rain, they
were met by Senator Sherman and driven to his
house. The city was crowded with people and there
was a fine procession on the fifth, but owing to the
shortness of the time there was less display than
usual, and no inaugural ball. The President tend
ered his carriage, drawn by four horses, and rode to
the Capitol with the President elect Mrs. Grant,
with some friends, received the family, and she pre
sided over the handsome lunch she had prepared for
them. Mrs. Hayes was no parvenu — was versed in the
social etiquette of the best society, and frankly
acknowledged her pleasure in becoming the mistress
of the Executive Mansion. Unlike Mrs. Grant, she
was charmed with the house ; every room had its
history. " No matter what they bufld, they wfll
never bufld any more rooms like these," she would
say, as she took her friends over it Her own
husband had already enacted a strange scene in

398 MRS. HAYES.
the Red Room, secretly taking the oath of office
before the Chief Justice, with only herself. General
Grant, and his son for witnesses, taken it, lest a
revolution might follow the uncertainties of his
election. Mrs. Hayes was an element in the administration,
and placed herself beside her husband in his official
rank, yet outside interference she met with dignity
and rebuke. To one woman, who came with sug
gestions as to the presidential housekeeping, she
said: "Madam, it is my husband, not myself, who. is
President. I think that a man who is capable of
filling so important a position, as I believe my
husband to be, is quite corapetent to establish
such rules as will obtain respect in his house, with
out calling on members of other households. I
would not offend you and I would not offend Mr.
Hayes, who knows what is due to his position, his
family, and- himself, without any interference of
others, directly or through his wife."
This was very dignified, but no woman in the
White House ever exercised such power over public
affairs and such rigidity in domestic affairs. She
not only believed in and practised total abstinence
from all intoxicating drinks, but she deterinined
that all who came within the doors of the national
mansion should practise, whether they believed
or no.

MRS. HAVES. 399
The Secretary of State declared it was not seemly
to invite the diplomatic corps to their annual dinner
and serve no wines ; he refused to consent to it.
Mrs. Hayes would not yield the point, and as usual
in such extreme cases, a plan was made to circum
vent her. Oranges were prepared, filled with deli
cious frozen punch. Mrs. Hayes and the uninitiated
wondered why this fruit was preferred above all
other. Unknown to her, Roman punch was served
at every State dinner, the steward duly instructed
just how to teraper the potency for each guest.
Those who partook, laughingly called it the "Life
Saving Station."
The narae of Mrs. Hayes was trumpeted over the
land as one who, sitting in the highest place, had set
a noble exaraple to the world. By her devotees, she
was even corapared to the Marys who stood beside
the cross, though one fails to see the reserablance
between those sorrowful woraen and the social, pros
perous, radiant Mrs. Hayes. Perhaps Mrs. Cleve
land, quietly drinking her glass of Apollinaris water,
has quite as potent an influence for good, and men
would scorn to indulge in excess or do an underhand
thing in her gracious presence.
No one doubted the sincerity and purity of Mrs.
Hayes's motives, but she was a devout follower of a
sect who frown upon what are usually deeraed inno
cent amusements. The billiard table was removed

400 MRS. HAYES.
frora the house at her bidding ; did her husband plan
a social game of cards in his private room, there sat
his lady, raore entertaining and winsorae than ever,
full of interest in the doraestic affairs of each guest.
Once a gentleraan ventured to remark that he was
afraid that the party were detaining her from ladies,
and the pleasant duties of her station. Ah, no'
indeed !• This was the hour with her husband and
any of his intimate friends who happened to drop
in. The President yawned and the guests with
drew with the sweetest "parting benedictions" from
Mrs. Hayes. The next day Mr. Hayes said to his
disappointed friends : " It's no use; Lucy won't have
it. She doesn't say a word, but you see how she
works it. There won't be any kind of wickedness in
the White House, if she can help it. There is a
great deal of intriguing which she knows nothing
about ; but that doesn't count. When she strikes
anything off color, she shoots it on the spot."
A crusader, passing through a little Pennsylvania
village, was told that the postmistress had so offen
sively meddled in the temperance movement, attack
ing every man, not teetotal, who came into the
office, that the citizens had coraplained, and she was
about to be superseded. The raan, relying on a
potent factor in the White House, boldly tele
graphed for a stay of proceedings. The story, as
he told it , was listened to by the Lady President.

MRS. HAYES. 4OI
Though the order for removal was made out at the
Post Office Departraent, the next that the raeraber
of Congress from that district knew, the woman was
reinstated. Mrs. Hayes was a devout woman, an attendant on
prayer-meetings, and lifted her voice in the rousing
hymns of the Methodist psalm book. Baseborn
motives were not within the ken of her coraprehen
sion, but office-holders and office-seekers would often
play the hypocrite's part to ingratiate themselves in
her favor ; once winning it, by teetotalism, prayers,
and psalm singing, they feared neither President nor
Secretary of State.
One shameless fellow told his own story as if it
were too good to keep. He knew he was not, nor
did he deserve to be in good repute with his supe
riors, but did he imitate the zeal of John Wesley and
preach the doctrine of Father Matthew, he might
hope to retain his position. He went regularly to
church and prayer-meetings where Mrs. Hayes
attended; would at tiraes look over the sarae book
and sing psalms with her. It worked well and paid.
Such a zealous, stainless young raan without a home,
was just the prot/gi ior Mrs. Hayes, and he had the
entree of the White House.
There was to be a little official junketing down the
harbor in a government vessel. Cards were issued
to those who were to make up the party. This

402 MRS. HAYES
young gentleman was designedly excluded. He
called upon Mrs.. Hayes, and casually mentioned
that he had no card. " Oh corae, and go with us, and
a card will not matter," said the gracious lady. His
planned scheme was a success, but a success that
worked his official ruin. Mrs. Hayes's guest was in
vited to the gentlemen's cabin, where champagne
corks were popping, and stronger drinks flowed as
freely as water. The gentleman completely lost his
balance and in this condition appeared in the pres
ence of Mrs. Hayes. All pressure was removed, and
a letter of dismissal lay among his official papers
upon the following day.
Mrs. Hayes was the mother of eight chHdren,
three of whom died in infancy. The eldest was an
established lawyer in Ohio. The second son, Master
Webb, was private secretary to the President ; his
coming of age was duly celebrated in the White
House. A governess, granddaughter of the late
Bishop Johns of Virginia, was employed for the
younger children.
Mrs. Hayes was always richly and becomingly
dressed, wore no jewelry, but indulged in priceless
laces. To a friend who once asked her why she did
not conform to the fashion in the arrangement of her
hair, she said that after she came to the White
House, she sent for a hairdresser. He did his work
and she consulted her glass ; she appeared so ridicu-

MRS. HAYES. 4O3
lous to herself, she took it down and arranged it in
her usual style.
She made but few changes in the White House.
The furniture, like the rooms, was raore to her taste
than anything new and modern. She ransacked the
storerooms for discarded pieces, had them renovated,
and if possible learned their age and history. From
the appropriation of Congress, she purchased a state
dinner service, illustrating the fauna and flora of
the United States.
The President and Mrs. Hayes had the honor of
receiving the Grand Dukes Alexis and Constantine,
sons of the Russian Czar. This tirae there was no
imbroglio with the Russian minister, and the visit
passed off smoothly.
The most prorainent entertalnraent given was the
silver wedding of President and Mrs Hayes. Rev.
Dr. McCabe was present, and renewed the raarriage
ceremony. The little girl of eight was in the prime
of womanhood, and held the bride's hand as she had
done a quarter of a century before. No presents was
written on the wedding cards. Only the officers of
the Ohio volunteer infantry, presumed to offer one —
a sflver plate, imbedded in a mat of black velvet, set
in an ebony frame, given in meraory of kindness to
the wounded upon the field ; inscribed, " To the
Mother of the Regiraent, on thy sflver troth." There
was a representation in silver, of a log-cabin in the

404 MRS. HAYES.
valley of the Kanawha ; above it, the tattered and
torn battle flags.
In the beginning of his term, Mr. Hayes was
described by the press as a well-buflt man of a
stalwart frame, ruddy with health, kind blue
eyes, full sandy beard in which there was mixed
a few silver threads, and a smfling, well-shaped
mouth. He was an even-tempered, good-natured
man, .and his policy was to be conciliatory to all,
especially to the South, where military rule sup
planted civfl law.
There had been rather universal carping over
Grant's last administration, which had not filled the
public records with a clean page, and Mr. Hayes
thought his success depended upon an entire reversal
of its measures, which was very offensive to the
great soldier.
Forming his own cabinet with the utmost secrecy,
taking no one's counsel, he was miffed that his oppo.
nents were selected to fill that of his successor.
Judge Key, who had cast his fortunes with the South
during the war, and was ruined, even beggared at the
end, was chosen postmaster-general, the first among
the disloyal so received.
United States troops were withdrawn from the
South by the President, because he honestly thought
it was the only hope of making that section peaceful
and prosperous, apd of cern?nting the bands about

MRS. HAYES. 405
the Union. His extreme conciliatory measures
aroused the jealousy of the North.
At first, he boldly denied that those who had man
ipulated Southern electoral votes had any claim on
him ; that some afterward received office as compensa
tion was believed to have been owing to the pressure
of the party, which he had not the backbone to resist.
The administration had as usual to face difficulties
with the Indians and with England.
The Utes, robbed by the governraent agents, and
pushed back by the miners at White River Agency,
rose and were put down by United States troops.
The vexed question of Northeastern F'isheries loomed
up. This time England probably had a real griev
ance, for the commissioners assembled at Halifax
awarded her five and one half million dollars.
Government relations were pushed with China,
which resulted in a treaty favorable to comraerce, and
another regulating Chinese immigration, much to
the relief of the people on the Pacific slope.
The last month of 1879 was made memorable by
the resumption of specie payments, which seeraed to
lift the cloud which had hung over the financial
affairs of the country for seventeen years.
The calamities of this term were the railroad
-strikes of 1877, which necessitated cafling out
United States troops, and the YeHow fever scourge
of 1878, which raged in the Mississippi VaHey.

406 MRS. HAYES.
Mrs. Hayes last New Year's reception, which fell
upon the coldest day ever known in Washington,
was a very elegant affair ; surrounded by a bevy of
young ladies, who throughout her reigh, were ever
flitting about the Executive Mansion, she looked
more dignified and radiant than ever, in a dress of
creamy white ribbed silk, triraraed with satin and
pearl passementeries, her beautiful hair plainly
knotted at the back and fastened by a silver comb.
Mrs. Hayes's friends, to show their appreciation of
the stand she had taken upon the temperance
question, had a picture of her painted full length,
to hang in the White House. The selected space
did not suit the fancy or aesthetic taste of President
Arthur and he moved it, which brought about his
ears such abuse that one would have thought that
he had profaned something holy.
Mr. Hayes courteously accompanied bis successor
to the Capitol, and congratulated hira upon his
accession. Mrs. Hayes had kindly invited the ven
erable mother of Garfield to the White House on
her arrival, and escorted her to the gallery of the
Capitol to witness the inauguration of the son she
called her baby.
Mrs. Hayes lunched the party, as she had been
lunched by Mrs. Gra-nt at her own coming. She
and the ex-President were driven to the house of
Secretary Sherman, where they had been received

MRS. HAYES. 4O7
on that wet March morning, four years before, when
the gloomy outlook threatened revolution and the
taunting name of usurper had so clouded their
triumph. In the evening, Mrs. Hayes went to the inaugural
ball, arrayed in cream-colored satin, triraraed with
ermine, and bade a dignified farewell to Washington
society. The next morning the retiring family left
the capital for Spiegel Grove, the narae of the home
in Fremont inherited from Sardis Birchard. Mr.
Hayes is the only ex-president living ; though the
silver threads have multiplied, he was scarcely aged
by official cares, perhaps, because they were so ably
shared by his efficient helpmate.

MRS. GARFIELD.
Miss Lucretia Rudolph was the daughter of
Zebulon Rudolph, whose uncle fought in the Revo
lution and afterwards went to France and fought in
the wars of Napoleon, where he rose to a high rank.
The family were poor, and there was nothing in the
life of this girl to be noted, save that she showed
uncoraraon intelligence and was eager to learn all
that boys learned.
Living in the days when it was uncoraraon for
girls to engage in classical studies, she zealously
entered upon them at Hiram, where Jaraes Abrara
Garfield was teacher. It does not appear that he
neglected her mental culture, when we read that
twenty years after she had sufficient erudition to fit
her sons for college, but with the Latin and Greek,
he mixed lessons upon love, which she diligently
conned. If she had been a remarkable girl, the teacher had
been a still more remarkable boy. He was the son
of a widow, so poor that she worked in her own
fields, split her own rails and buflt her own fences.
Obliged as she was to do both a man's and a woman's
work for the support of her little brood, she found
408

MRS. GARFIELD. 4O9
time to teach them to read. As they grew older,
they helped to till the small farra, and " hired out "
araong the neighbors. When eighteen, this young
est boy left horae against the raother's will, to seek
his fortune ; either his abflities did not fit him or his
arabition did not soar very high, for he engaged as a
tow-boy on the Erie Canal. Contracting malaria, he
went home, and a long iHness followed. In conva
lescence, his wise mother did not try to coerce his
desire to return to the tow-path, but by gentle per
suasions gained his consent to take three months'
schooling at Hiram, until he had gained his full
strength. His mind seeraed to open and expand at
once, the schooling developed powers he, did not
know that he possessed.
Life on the canal boat was not quite so alluring,
and he was ready to accede to his raother's pleadings
that he should try to acquire an education. In her
straitened circurastances, she could do no more than
advise. His splendid physique fitted him to bear
bodily and raental strain, and he raust work his own
way. For years, life was a season of unintermitted
toil, in which he managed to earn his dafly bread,
master the languages, science, literature, fine arts,
and win a girl's heart.
There were lovers' quarrels, which sometimes
threatened that the pair would walk in opposite
paths, yet no sooner did he graduate frora WiHiams

4IO MRS. GARFIELD.
Coflege than they united their fortunes upon the
meagre salary of a professor of the little acaderay at
Hiram. He joined a sect called Disciples or Camp
bellites and often officiated as preacher in their
chapel. At the beginning of the Civil War, he offered his
services and was coraraissioned lieutenant-colonel
of the Forty-second Ohio Volunteers. His regiment
did good service in Kentucky under General Buell
but it was at Chickamauga that Garfield won his
military glory and for his services was promoted to
the rank of major-general. By rigid economy he had
saved eight hundred dollars, with which he pur
chased a little cottage for his wife and the children
who had begun to cluster about his hearth. Once,
when one, whom they called Little Trot, was lying
very ifl, he went home and was in time to hear her
last sigh, lay her in the viHage churchyard, and place
a stone with the inscription, LITTLE TROT,
She Wears the Crown Without the Conflict.
While in the field. General Garfield was elected
to Congress, and at Lincoln's urgent request, re
signed his commission and took his seat. He was
returned again and again, until in 1880, he was
chosen United States senator from Ohio. In the
small, quiet home at Washington, General and Mrs.

MRS. GARFIELD. 4I I
Garfield had a circle of their own, frora the raore
cultured class of society, but were unknown in the
fashionable world.
In the Republican Convention of 1880, at Chicago,
there were three prominent candidates ; Grant for a
third terra, Sherman, and Blaine. Garfield attended
as the pledged supporter of Sherman. It was whis
pered in advance, that while ostensibly acting for
Sherman, he would work for his own noraination,
and that the Blaine supporters would forsake their
favorite and wheel into line for him ; vvere he but
led out as a "dark horse," he could be his own
groom and distance his competitors.
Though an able and fervid orator, his speech for
Sherman was called a cold and studied eulogiura ; at
the close he asked : " What do we want ? " and then
paused. A clear voice rang out " We want Gar
field," and Garfield it was.
Conkling led the forces for Grant; ballot after
ballot was called, and as the famous three hundred
and six could neither add to nor diminish their num
ber, he was asked to allow his narae to be used.
The man was indignant, would, he said, rather have
his right arm torn away than work for himself when
he was pledged to Grant.
Grant and Conkling faithfully supported the nom
inee of the party, who was elected by a bare majority.
The imposing inaugural ceremonies were conducted

412 MRS. GARFIELD.
with martial precision by General Sherman, but the
day proved to be cold and storray.
The President looked jaded and worn, but his
address was given in clear, ringing tones ; he rever
ently took the oath of office, then turned and kissed
his happy mother, who was the first mother to wit
ness the inauguration of a son. At the ball in the
evening, Mrs. Garfield made a very pleasant impres
sion by her quiet, ladylike manners and appropriate
handsome dress of heliotrope satin, trimmed with
rich lace, a bunch of pansies in her corsage, and no
jewelry. Under Mr. Hayes's administration, -the country
prospered, and the public debt was greatly dimin
ished, but the belief that fraud had been used in the
election made the opposite party sullen and disposed
to cavil at the President's well-meant efforts ; now a
new era had dawned, the cloud was lifted, and high
expectations were formed of the success of this ad
ministration. Yet the President seemed to antago
nize his fiiends from the beginning. The Grant
faction carped over the selection of the Secretary
of State ; fierce discussions arose in the exposure
of the Star Route scandal, which was said to have
been designed to throw an especial reproach upon
the Grant and Hayes adrainistrations. According
to the rules of courtesy recognized among politi
cians, senators are consulted, if not allowed to con-

MRS. GARFIELD. 4I3
trol the appointments in their own States. It was
said by the aggrieved, that the President had
expressly stated that the New York nominees
should be submitted to the vice-president and the
senators from that State. The man who was the
raost obnoxious to those gentleraen was selected for
the Collector of the port of New York, and the
minor offices were given to men who were objection
able to thera.
The senators, Conkling and Platt, resigned and
went home ; this raised an adverse faction in the
ranks of the Empire State. The President was com
petent to run the wheels of government, but he
evidently had no idea of oiling the raachinery.
In Mrs. Garfield's short occupancy of the White
House, she showed a great deal of character, re
pelled any patronizing atterapts to direct her move
ments. She was averse to publicity, reticent, retir
ing, and discreet ; the President would sometimes
say he never had to explain away any words of his
wife. She did not frown upon the restoration of the
billiard table, nor upon the glass of wine, in which
her husband temperately indulged at dinner, and set
before his friends. Desirous to fulfil the social
duties of her station, she began with frequent recep
tions, but she was a woraan of too fine a fibre for
the political world. For months she had been under
a mental strain, campaign stories — maybe, colored

414 MRS. GARFIELD.
to suit the opposition — had for her a barbed point ;
were -there a skeleton in her household, she was one
.who would rather die than make a public display.
She possessed a coraplete mastery of politics, and
the discordant elements of the government, so early
displayed, probably cost her more anxiety than they
would a franker or less-controlled woman. In a few
weeks she fell ill, and for a tirae the fllness boded a
fatal result When convalescent she went to Long
Branch. Henceforward, politicians raight wrangle and toss
about the apple of discord, and it would be nothing
to her ; crowds might throng the Executive Man
sion, but never again would she stand in her quiet,
self-possessed way to take them by the hand and
give them her sweet-toned greeting, yet the "coming
events cast no shadow before."
Early in July, the President, more jaded and worn
than upon that wet, March morning, when he had
assumed his heavy responsibilities, thought to put
care and trouble behind him ; promised himself a
real holiday trip. With a party of friends he was
to travel North, add his restored wife to the party,
make a sort of royal progress and at Williamstown
receive the honors that his Alma Mater was ready to
bestow on her favorite son, who had so indefatigably
worked his way to the highest place.
Alas, the dreadful shadow was creeping on apace !

MRS. GARFIELD. 415
He had been spared once, though he knew it
not, because he had his wife beside him, — now the
raiserable assassin saw nothing to prorapt his heart
to pity, and the fatal bullets were fired in the station
of the Baltiraore and Potomac Railroad. It was so
unexpected, so quick over, that Mr. Blaine, who was
with hira, could not for a raoraent comprehend what
had happened. The rest of the party were already
in the cars, and when one came and said the Presi
dent was shot, refused to believe it. The wounded
raan, writhing in pain was slowly borne back to the
White House which he had so gayly quitted half an
hour before.
Mrs. Garfield's trunks were packed and strapped,
and as she was weaving pleasant fancies of the cora
ing journey, the fatal raessage carae over the .wires.
A special express car was placed at her -service, and
she sped over the weary miles, not knowing if her
husband, the father of her children, were dead or
alive. The suffering man lay listening to every
sound, and when her carriage drove to the door,
with a long sigh of relief, he said, " It is my wife."
In another raoment Jira and Crete, as they famfliarly
called each other, were face to face. Her long vigH
of watching him going step by step into a martyr's
grave began. Then and ever after, — to the days
when in the funeral train she looked frora the
window with drawn-up "blinds upon the people, —

41 6 MRS. GARFIELD,
her fortitude was something marvellous. Every
paper told of her wonderful devotion, but woman
and devotion are synonymous terms. A thought
less, giddy wife would try to stand at her post
at such a time, yet a weak woman would sink and
give way under such tragic circumstances.
The solemnity of the tirae hushed the feuds of
the politicians ; though there were those so base-
natured, if not baseborn, as to impute a feeling of
exultation to the man who would profit by the
dastardly deed of the assassin; for the sufferer
every heart throbbed with pity ; those who had
criticised and censured spoke not at all, or spoke
only to praise.
Before the tragedy, the proud old mother, affec
tionately called "Mother Garfield" by. the people,
had gone to Ohio with the younger children; after
the wires had flashed the terrible news, the son, by
a painful effort, wrote a note with his own hand,
breathing hope* and confidence. The physicians had
said there was one chance, and he had bravely said :
" I will take that chance ; I am not afraid to die,
but I will try to live."
For' a tirae the reports were encouraging, and
when the journey was planned to catch the sea
breezes, there was a spirit of hopefulness throughout
the land. The bulletins were more favorable than
the condition of the President warranted. One Sep-

MRS. GARFIELD. 4I7
tember night, people were av/akened from their first
sleep by the tolling of bells, which told that the
sufferer, -by a singular coincidence, had gone to his
rest on the eighteenth anniversary of the battle of
Chickamauga. " Mother Garfield," weighted with age,
slept on, and a granddaughter gently broke the news
to her in the morning. An autopsy was held which
showed that the diagnosis had been wrong, but
showed the wound was raortal, so it didn't rauch
matter. Masters Harry and James, Mrs. Garfield's elder
sons, were at Williams College ; the first hastened
to Elberon, and the other lay HI of raalarial fever.
From the sea, they took the dead President to Wash
ington, and laid hira beneath the dorae of the Cap
itol, the scene of his triumph six months before.
There was a pompous funeral, and the sad cortige
started for the shores of Lake Erie, where, at Cleve
land, dust was committed to dust.
The American people were very liberal to the
family of the martyred dead. It was proposed to
raise two hundred thousand dollars for their benefit,
but the sum rolled up to nearly double that amount.
Congress voted the life pension of five thousand
a year, granted the widows of presidents.
Mrs. Garfield bought a house on Euclid Avenue,
Cleveland, where the famfly lived for a tirae ; after
ward, she went abroad with her only daughter. Miss

41 8 MRS. GARFIELD.
Molly. Satisfied with travel, they settled quietly at
Bournemouth, where they received a good deal of
attention in a quiet way from the English upper
classes, but true to herself, Mrs. Garfield sought no
favors. Upon their return to Araerica, they settled in the
homestead at Mentoi", where they are said to be
very exclusive ; so much so, they are unpopular out
side their own sraall circle, which arises, probably,,
from Mrs. Garfield's dislike to have her private
affairs discussed by the public.
On the fourteenth of June of the present year,
there was a double wedding celebrated in the
house. Miss Molly wore the orange blossoms, and
plighted her troth to J. Stanley Brown, so promi
nent during the carapaign that ended in Garfield's
election, and the troublous political and bloody epi
sodes that followed. Miss Belle Mason wore the
orange blossoras for Harry Garfield, who has formed
a partnership at Cleveland with his brother Jaraes,
as Garfield and Garfield, attorneys-at-law.
The raurderer had a trial which stretched through
three weary months. It would be hard to tell why
it was so spun out — all sorts of base motives were
imputed to the lawyers who had the matter in hand.
When the decision came to twelve men frora the
rank and file, who neither knew nor wanted to
know, a quibble of law, they pronounced the wretch

MRS. GARFIELD. 4I9
guilty, and didn't recommend hira to mercy. He
soon suffered the full penalty of the law he had so
wantonly broken.
, A university in Kansas took the name of the
martyred president, and recently, Mrs. Garfield has
generously and gracefully donated it ten thousand
dollars.

MRS. ARTHUR.
Chester Alan Arthur was the fourth President,
for whose occupancy of the Executive Mansion, death
had swung open the door ; he was also the fourth to
enter in without a legitimate mistress in his' train,
because that skeleton guest had crossed the threshold
of his home and passed away with the imraortal part
of the woman he had chosen to be his wedded wife.
He still wore black badges in her meraory, and the
great columns of the porch of the mansion were
draped in mourning for the raan, who, only a few
months before, had come fiushed with natural pride
and ambition, ^ had been the mark of an assassin,
and had pa,ssed away with the martyr's crown of suf
fering. General Arthur repeated the oath of office in the
Capitol, beneath whose dome the dead man lay. He
had looked his mighty responsibilities in the face,
and shrank from them ; the circurastances were
enough to stifle pride and arabition in any raan, but
only those who knew General Arthur could realize
the depth of his sorrow. For months he had. been
watched and scrutinized, and no man could say he
420

MRS. ARTHUR. 421
had acted unbecomingly in the trying position in
which he had been placed.
There had been a political feud between himself
and the stricken raan, but he, like other oppo
nents, had forgotten politics, and wished that he
raight be one to stand and minister to the suf
ferer, and when the good news came that the
chances were in favor of recovery, no one rejoiced
as he did.
Chester Alan Arthur was the oldest son of the
Rev. Dr. Wra. Arthur, a learned and cultured man
of Irish birth, and of the Baptist persuasion. There
was a large family of children, and the means were
narrow. The boy inherited the literary tastes and
studious habits of the father, and under his guidance,
prepared for college and entered Union, New York.
Upon graduation, the first six of a class of one hun
dred and two received an especial honor, and Arthur
was one of the six. He entered Ballston Law
School ; there, as in his college course, he taught
some months in the year for his maintenance. Like
Garfield he was a self-raade raan, the architect of
his own fortune, but he had the advantage of having
been bred in a cultured horae.
By the strictest econoray, he laid by five hundred
doHars, went to New York, and entered the office of
a distinguished lawyer as a student, and was soon
a:dm-itted to the bar. If he vvere not what was termed

422. MRS. ARTHUR.
a rabid Abolitionist, he won favor by defending
negroes, and always with success.
In the winter of 1858, there appeared in the upper
circles of New York society, a young girl frora Vir
ginia, just out of her teens. She was called the
beautiful Miss Herndon with the marvellous voice.
Aside from her personal attractions, she was the
object of especial interest, as being the daughter
of Lieutenant-Coraraander Herndon of the United
States Navy. When off duty, he was in command
of the steamship " Central America," running from
Aspinwall to New York, loaded with passengers,
" If the Bermudas let you pass, then look out for
Hatteras," V say the old saflors. As the "Central
America" steamed up to the dangerous point, a
terrible storm raged, and she became a perfect wreck.
Under the adrairable discipline of Captain Herndon,
all the woraen and children were placed in boats, and
safely taken on board a vessel lying to for their res
cue. He sent his watch and a parting message to
his wife, but nothing would induce him to leave his
post so long as a passenger was left on board, and he
went down with his ship. General Sherman has
spoken of this grand deed of unselfish devotion
to duty as the most heroic incident in our naval
history. The officers of the navy placed a monument in the
grounds ofthe Naval Academy at J\.nnapplis, to com-

MRS. ARTHUR. 423
memorate his heroisra ; Virginia, his native state, pre
sented a gold raedal to his widow, and a large sura of
money was raised for her benefit. She was the sis
ter of Lieutenant Maury of scientific farae.
Miss Herndon's distinguished birth, her youth,
beauty, and gift of song, joined to sweet Southern
manners, made her a central figure in the upper
circles of New York society. Mr. Arthur was fas
tidious and aesthetic in all his tastes — a connoisseur
of beauty. Meeting this girl in the midst of a
brflliant throng, she seemed his ideal of woman ;
hearing her sing completed the charra, and he set
his heart upon winning her for a wife.
He had a handsome face and a raagnificent
presence, was easy and courteous in raanners, and
genial in teraper ; we cannot tell with what he
tipped or how he sped his arrows, but we have proof
that they went to the mark by a ceremony in Calvary
Church, New York, in which he and Ellen Lewis
Herndon repeated the vows required in the Epis
copal marriage service.
This was in the autumn of 1859, ^^^Y ^ Y^^^
and a half before the fatal shot at Sumter. Mr.
Arthur at once tendered his services to Governor
Morgan, who appointed him quartermaster-general
on his staff.
The Herndons and the Maurys had drawn their
swords frora the scabbard in the Southern cause.

424 MRS. ARTHUR.
Mrs. Arthur was a true Herndon, an ardent lover of
her native state, a sympathizer in secession, and
there was a — mother-in-law in Arthur's house.
Fortunately, love and a dignified sense of what
was due to a husband kept a divided house from
falling, but it was- well knovvn that the loyalty and
patriotism of General Arthur were submitted to a
severe test and nobly stood the strain.
He scorned gifts ; refused contracts, on the ground
that a public official should be as Csesar's wife, above
suspicion. His eulogist said : " It is one of the
proudest records of General Arthur's life that he
surrendered his position to a successor of hostfle
political faith, to receive from him the highest com
pliments for his work, and to return to his profession
a poorer raan than when be assumed office."
He was twice appointed collector of the port of
New York, and when removed by President Hayes,
he and the Secretary of State bore official witness to
the purity of his acts while in office.
In 1878, a great grief fell upon Mrs. Arthur. Hear
mother, travelling in Europe, suddenly died at
Hy6res, France. She went there and brought back
the remains. The shock and the nervous tension
caused by her bereavement and her long, sad journey
irapaired her health, and she never fully recovered
from it.
In January, 1880, she was attacked by pneumonia.

MRS. ARTHUR. 425
and after an illness of three days, died in the prime
of her beautiful womanhood. A rare and radiant
soul had passed from earth, and her friends said,
that, " to win such love as she won in life, to leave
behind as dear a raeraory as she has left, is the lot
of but few mortals." She had been always ready to
use her glorious voice in the cause of charity, and
the Mendelssohn Club of New York, with whom she
had often joined for a benevolent object, begged the
privflege of singing at her funeral service.
Her husband fondly cherished her meraory, kept
her roora and personal belongings as she left them,
was scrupulous even to the needle in her work. To
associate her with his Washington life, he placed a
memorial window in the church where he wor
shipped ; in the White House her picture was hung,
and daily fresh flowers were placed before it.
When Garfield received the nomination for the
presidency in 1880, General Arthur's narae was
tacked to the ticket to placate New York and the
Grant faction, which had suffered a defeat. Hope of
Garfield's recovery gradually faded from the minds
of the people, and there was a state of tense and
anxious expectancy. From his successor nothing
was expected, and a great deal was feared.
There was soraething reassuring in the short in
augural, in which he said : " All the noble aspirations
of ray laraented predecessor which found expression

426 MRS. ARTHUR.
in his life, the raeasures devised and suggested dur
ing his brief administration, to correct abuses and
enforce economy, to advance prosperity and proraote
the general welfare, to ensure doraestic security, and
raaintain friendly and honorable relations with the
nations of the earth, — will be garnered in the hearts
of the people, and it will be ray earnest endeavor to
profit, and to see that the nation shall profit, by his
exaraple and experience." To a friend he said :
"My sole ambition is to enjoy the confidence of
my countrymen."
Though trained in the strife and turmoil- of politi
cal life, he showed so dignified a sense of what
belonged to his high position, that even his friends
marvelled. The obnoxious collector of New York
was, to his own astonishment, undisturbed. There
was nothing indiscreet or aggressive in the adrainis
tration to rouse the people, who needed rest frora the
strain to which they had been subjected, and his wi.s-
dora at this crisis has been accounted the greatest of
his achievements.
Not even in the days of Buchanan were the domes
tic affairs of the Executive Mansion conducted upon
a scale more befitting to the head of a great nation.
The President had a brother in the regular army,
and a bevy of married sisters. The youngest, Mrs.
MeElroy, came to preside over the White House and
assist in the social entertainments. Like Mrs. Mad-

MRS. ARTHUR. 427
ison and Miss Lane, she is of Irish and American
blood, which so often produces beautiful woraen. She
has the rare corabination of very dark hair and eyes
and a raost delicate complexion.
She bears a striking personal resemblance to her
distinguished brother, and has also his high-bred airs,
culture, and sesthetic tastes.
The appropriation for the mansion was spent in
alterations and decorations which add much to its
attractiveness ; the windows of the dining-room were
changed to glass doors leading to the conservatory.
The elegance of the state dinners was a therae for the
press, and was about all the disaffected could find to
carp about. One wrote that there was ^ " parade of
feasting and ostentation, of public display and pri
vate junketing such as the Presidential mansion had
never known." As a rule, people were pleased that
an elegant etiquette was raaintained, and that nectar
and arabrosia were served to the nation's guests.
The most memorable event of the administration
was the centennial celebration of the surrender at
Yorktown. Delicate manageraent was exercised to
please the Germans and yet give no offence to the
French. With President Arthur's great native dig
nity, he had the happy faculty of always doing the
graceful thing. At the close of the celebration,
where French, Germans, and Araericans had frater
nized and' enthused over the glorious past, he directed

428 MRS. ARTHUR. ¦
that a salute be fired in honor of the British flag, " in
recognition of the friendly relations so long and so
happily subsisting between Great Britain and the
United States, in the trust and confidence of peace
and good will between the two countries for all the
centuries to come, and especially as a mark of the
profound respect entertained by the Araerican people
for the illustrious sovereign and gracious lady who
sits upon the British throne."
In Arthur's administration, a bill was passed for
the distribution of the Geneva award, another, for
returning convicts sent to our shores, and the ira
portation of contract labor was forbidden. Postage
was reduced^ and the tax upon raatches, checks, and
drg:fts reraoved.
The beautifying and the improi'eraents of the city,
so magnificently begun by General Grant, were stead
ily carried forward.
The entire administration vvas so conservative, so
dignified, that it commanded confidence, and gave an
impetus to aH business interests.
In the suramer of 1883, President Arthur joined the
Villard excursion party to drive the silver spike.
Dr. Paul Lindau, the famous foreign journalist, was
also one of the party, and sent the following des
cription to the National Zeitttng oi Berlin : " President
Arthur raakes a good and distinguished impression.
He possesses a broad, not high, but well-made fore-

MRS. ARTHUR. 429
head, a little stumpy nose, wears his mustache and
side whiskers cropped short, and his chin smooth-
shaven. His eyes are not very large, but unusually
animated and of very sympathetic expression. His
figure is tall and elastic, his carriage faultless. He
dresses with great care, even with a certain amount
of coquetry. He looks more like an Englishman of
noble birth than an American."
After an administration so deservedly popular, it
was expected that General Arthur would be the
Republican nominee in the presidential campaign of
1884, but the party handed the standard to Maine's
Plumed Knight; able, eloquent, and magnetic as he
is admitted to be, the people distrusted him, and he
brought upon the party the first defeat to which it
had succumbed for nearly a quarter of a century.
Upon .leaving the Executive Mansion, the tact,
graciousness, and superb elegance of Mrs. McElroy's
social sway was recognized in a raarkedly corapliraent
ary manner by Senator and Mrs. Pendleton, who gave
a reception which was a very brilliant affair, even in
Washington. The cabinet to go and the cabinet to
corae, the foreign ministers, officers of the army and
navy, senators, representatives, and the ilite of the
capital were all bidden, and all came to do honor to
the lady who for four seasons had right royally enter
tained and led society. The retirement of no lady
since Miss Lane had caused so much regret.

430 MRS. ARTHUR.
It has been the ambition of every President, save
Washington, who always stands alone, to serve a
second term, more particularly of those who have been
raised to the high position by death. General Arthur
acted in his usual dignified raanner, returned to his
horae and resuraed the practice of his profession, but
he was coraparatively young, sensitive, and proud ;
the descent from being one of the greatest potentates
upon earth to the simple rank of a private citizen,
added to a morbid sensitiveness lest he had not come
up to the requirements of his countrymen, destroyed,
or rather, sapped, the springs of life ; there was noth
ing for which to strive, no goal to win, — he had
touched Ultima Thule.
Two years from his dethronement, he fell into a
lingering illness, which ended in death.
General Arthur's reraains were taken to Albany,
and in Rural Cemetary, laid beside those of his wife
aud infant son. His son, Alan, is a graduate of
Princeton and is travelling in Europe. Miss Nelly,
his daughter, the little maiden so often seen with her
cousin flitting about the White House, is still a
school-girl, under the care of her aunt, Mrs. McElroy.

MRS. CLEVELAND.
In 1885, a new era dawned upon the United States
government. For nearly a quarter of a century the
Republicans had been in power, and had settled
affairs pretty much in their own way. Big steals,
even the steaUng of the Presidency, and all sorts of
lesser frauds and corruptions had been charged upon
thera. No one doubted that their opponents had a
broad foundation for their accusations, yet, the gov
ernraent had somehow pulled through, and we were
not only a great nation stfll, but growing greater. If
politicians do wrong, they never corae to the confes
sional, and the accused boldly retaliated by saying the
Union had gone to pieces when a Deraocrat guided
the ship of state, and they had restored it.
If history were repeating itself by restoring a Dera
ocrat to power, so it was in bringing another bache
lor as master into the Executive Mansion. The new
President had made such a flourish in reforraing
abuses as Mayor of Buffalo, and again upon a raore
stupendous scale as Governor of New York, that upon
his nomination to the office of Chief Magistrate of
these United States, we didn't have to ask : Who is
431

432 MRS. CLEVELAND.
Grover Cleveland ? That was one point in his favor.
It is all very well for a man to be a cock-fighter and
horse-jockey, to live in a log cabin, to split rails, and
trot round barefoot, to sew on buttons or to tread the
towpath, and, after, rise to the Presidency. Araeri
can people honor such with all their souls — admit they
were born great, which is so much better than hav
ing greatness thrust upon one ; yet, there is some
thing in huraan nature, call it by what name you will,
which, with other things being equal, makes one
more ready to doff the hat to one who is well-born
and well-bred, one whose forebears held the rank of
gentleraen. When we have pen pictures of the Presidents, we
are proud of the dignity of Washington, of his aris
tocratic ways ; of the courtliness of Buchanan ; of
the elegance of Van Buren and of Arthur. There is
a sort of pathos in the adrairation which the raanners
of the former roused in the great Lincoln ; born awk
ward, trained in, and used only to rough western man
ners, he exclaimed : " Why, he is enough to charm
the birds from the trees ! "
In the earlier days of the Republic, the clergy
exacted and received reverence ; either we, as a
people, have less reverence, or they have developed
so raany who keep busy with affairs outside the Mas
ter's business, to which they are consecrated, that
they have somewhat gone down in the scale ; yet.

MRS. CLEVELAND. 433
with all this falling off, both in people and ministers,
such aristocracy as we adrait of, they belong to.
Grover Cleveland, like Arthur, is the son of a cler
gyman. His family have been steeped in the minis
try back to the days when the first carae frora Eng
land, which was nearly two centuries before our Pres
ident was born. They have been a shifty race in
their faith, or rather creeds. Dr. Aaron Cleveland
carae as a rainister of the established Church of Eng
land, was a friend of Franklin, vrzs nursed in his house
through a lingering illness, and died there. Frank
lin wrote his obituary, which stated, araong many
good things, that he was indefatigable in his calling.
Each successive generation has turned out ministers,
the earlier ones j>')ined the ranks of the Congregation
alists, the present has veered round to the Presby
terians. A city raissionary of Boston, so well known
as Father Cleveland, whose life nearly rounded out a
century, was a great-uncle of the President. His
daughter married. Dr. Cox, a distinguished clergy
man of New York city, which brought that branch of
the faraily back to the Episcopal Church, and their
son became bishop of Western New York. The
President's father married an Irish girl, which inter
mixture of races so often produces beautiful women
and remarkable raen.
Country ministers and poverty, or rather lack of
worldly wealth, usually go hand in hand, and this

434 MRS. CLEVELAND.
family was no exception, but the poor man's bless
ing was showered upon it and nine little ones clus
tered about the doraestic hearth of the parsonage.
The eldest erabraced the famfly calling, and has a
parish in a New York country village ; a daughter
married a minister, and^ the pair are raissionaries in
Ceylon. The husband and father of the faraily suddenly
died, when Grover Cleveland was sixteen. No hope
of college life now ; henceforth he must make his
own way, and help the others make theirs. For a
year he was a bookkeeper in New York City. At
sixteen, without means, he had broader views of life
than a clerkship. The great West seemed to be the
field to make one's fortune, and he had plenty of
energy and pluck. Cleveland, Ohio, was almost the
extreme limit of civilization ; borrowing twenty-five
dollars from a friend of his father, he fixed upon that
little, rising city as his goal. Going by the way of
Buffalo, he visited an uncle, and unfolded his plans,
which were to culminate in a profession ; law rather
than divinity was the bent of his mind. The uncle
was intent on some literary work, in which he saw
the boy had calibre enough to assist. He promised
him help in his chosen career, and induced him to go
no farther.
At twenty-two, he was admitted to the bar.
Clients were coraing, and success was dawning.

MRS. CLEVELAND. 435
when the South made its grand fiasco. His raother
had three sons ; no widow was asked to give all her
sons ; none asked for an only son. In a faraHy con
clave, it was amicably settled that the young lawyer
should be the one to abide at home ; maybe, because
he could be of more material help than his brothers.
When the call came for " three hundred thousand
more," he didn't stand upon his rights as being the
widow's stay, but hired a substitute, for which he had
to borrow the money.
His firmness, straightforward uprightness, and
reform flourishes as mayor and governor, pointed
hira out as one to whora it would be safe to give
a wider field for his peculiar talents; thus he rose
to the Presidency. Men of his party settled down
in the faith that honesty, not on Franklin's policy
plan, but because it is right, was to be maintained.
This did not matter to the fashionable society class
of the capital, who were all agog as to vvhat was
to be the rigime of the White House. " Arthur
had carried it on in a manner so agreeable and
befitting — by gracious ways and courtly manners
had kept up such a flutter of excitement in the
bosoms of mararaas with daughters;, raaidens, widows,
and spinsters, that they were ready to look askance
upon this man, who shunned woraen, and was intent
only upon business — ¦ had won his way to farae and
greatness by putting a veto stamp on steals and swinr

436 MRS. CLEVELAND.
dies. It didn't sound interesting, and looked as if
the White House were to be made over to the men.
Each inauguration becoraes raore imposing than
the one which had gone before, and each one is at
tended by a larger number of people ; but in these
days of hotel palaces, the beds are equal to the
heads. General Arthur escorted the President-elect
in his own carriage.
The passing by the Senate, the signing by the
President, and the announcing to the asserabled mul
titude that the great soldier lying, dying, at Mount
MacGregor was again a general in the army, was re
ceived with tumultuous cheers, and formed the most
dramatic incident of the day ; it was gracefully timed
by General Arthur.
It was a mild spring day and the sun shone
brightly as Mr. Cleveland stepped to his place and,
almost without notes, delivered hrs inaugural in clear,
ringing tones. For the taking of his oath, he had
brought a little, time-worn Bible, which had been
given him by his mother. In his solemn earnestness
to preserve the Constitution, so help hira God, he had
a reverent, superstitious feeling that if his oath were
taken upon that book, he couldn't swerve frora the
right. His brother and sisters were present, and when a
lady asked one how she preserved her composure,
she said she conjugated a Greek verb ; well, any one

MRS. CLEVELAND. 437
who has tried to do that thing, can testify that it wiH
crush emotion, as to do it successfully one raust at
tend strictly to business.
It was soon learned that Miss Rose Elizabeth
Cleveland, of Greek verb fame, the youngest of the
nine Holland Patent Clevelands, a teacher, lecturer,
and an authoress, was to preside over the hospitali
ties of the White House.
Her life had been too serious and practical to fit
her for the fashionable vortex of the capital, but
she is a lady, has strong individuality, good conver
sational powers, and is far from being coraraonplace.
She took care to keep up the cuisine, the floral
decorations, and the entertainraents. She held
weekly receptions and gave frequent lunch parties,
at which under her lead, there was much brilliant
talk and sparkling wit.
The temperance people thought to run the house
a la Mrs. Hayes. They laid their first parallel, but
were met by such quiet dignity, they never began a
second. At her own lunches no wine was served,
but for her brother's guests she had too rauch good
sense to interfere or he had too much to allow it ;
not knowing their doraestic status, we wHl say that
it was the good sense and the good taste of both to
conform to society usages in the Executive Mansion.
Miss Cleveland knew what the public did not
know — knew that her own reign was to be short —

438 MRS. CLEVELAND.
that a young girl in Europe, " the sweetest in the
world," she called her, was coming to reign as
legitimate mistress over the White House.
In the years gone by, when the President had
been only a city lawyer, he had had a partner who.
was a genial, generous, whole-souled, companionable
man, and his handsome wife had charming manners.
Many an hour had the President whfled away in
their hospitable home. There was a blue-eyed, viva
cious little daughter vvho often clirabed upon his
knee, and called hira Uncle Cleve, — to-day she calls
hira Mr. President.
At a time when raother and child were away on a
visit, Mr. Folsom met with a fatal accident The
tender and sympathetic nature of the President
made him assiduous in his attentions to lighten
the affliction and attend to their interests.
The girl had been taught in Madame Brecker's
kindergarten, the Central School, Buffalo, and after
wards went to the High School at Medina, where
her mother had gone upon the death of her husband.
The President had dropped- Stephen frora his
name because it vvas too long, and this school-girl
had added Clara (not exactly euphonistic) to hers,
because it was too short and, being entered upon
the school records as Frank, often got transferred
into the boys' list. She entered the Sophomore
class of Wells College upon the merits of her school

MRS. CLEVELAND.

439

certificates. Every week came a hamper of flowers
from the gubernatorial mansion at Albany, and upon
her graduation, frora the conservatories of the White
House. The interest and fondness of the President for
the beautiful Miss Folsom was well known. She
stood with her mother in the group behind hira on
the day he was officially notified of his nomination ;
the two also spent a few days at the Executive
Mansion after the inauguration. It seems as if the
social world were a little stupid in interpreting the
signs of the times, but when a man lives nearly half
a century without wedding, he almost rises beyond
the suspicion of matrimonial intent.
The first rumor of the real state of things was by
a telegram sent from Washington the evening Miss
Folsora was about to sail for Europe. It was not so
ambiguously worded but what it could be seen that
it was indited by the little god. The unlucky wight
of an operator had a mania for autographs, and was
in the habit of cutting off names and preserving the
messages. This one was so fraught with interest,
that, under the promises of never telling, he showed
it to his wife and landlady. Afterwards, the two
wpmen quarrelled, as women who live together,
sometimes will. The operator and wife sought
another home. In the bosom of the landlady
burned not only anger, but the meaner passion —

440 MRS. CLEVELAND.
revenge. She went to the telegraph office and told
the story she had promised to keep. Secrecy is the
strict rule of the company, and the man was dis
charged. The story got into the newspapers and
caused a ripple of excitement, but the lady was gone
and there was nothing to keep it alive. It was soon
looked upon as a canard invented by a reporter to
make hiraself interesting.
Now and then carae a ruraor from Paris that there
was a beautiful trousseau preparing for Miss Folsom,
and that it was to be worn in the White House. If
she were the fiancie of the President, Minister
McLane thought it incumbent upon hira to do
her honor, but the girl wouldn't be lionized in
advance, and only went about in a quiet way to
see sights and do her dainty shopping.
In May she safled for Araerica. Rumors had
thickened as to the President's intentions, and when
the steamer was due, his private secretary, Colonel
Lament, came and outwitted the newspaper raen by
quietly taking the party on board a little steamer
held in readiness for the purpose.
Memorial Day foHowed, and the President went to
New York, ostensibly, to listen to dirges ; well, the
dirges weren't neglected, but there seemed to be
marriage bells tinkHng in the air. Once, GHmore's
Band played Mendelssohn's Wedding March, an
other struck up "We've got him on the list," and

MRS. CLEVELAND.

441

a third, " For he's going to marry Yum-Yum, Yura-
Yura." It was seen that the waving of a little
handkerchief took the solemnity inspired bythe work
in hand, from the President's face. Yet, there was
an air of secrecy which hardly seeraed befitting in
the marriage of the Chief Magistrate of these United
States. Even on Memorial Day, Dr. Sunderland
who performed the ceremony doubted if there were
to be a wedding. Well, the President could explain.
Miss Folsom had a grandfather at Folsomdale
whora she called Papa John, who was to give away
the bride or do whatever Presbyterians do, when one
of their woraen joins another clan.
Whfle she was crossing the Atlantic, he died ;
what plans had been forraed, were all agley. As
the fiancie of the President, newspaper men would
make life a burden, and it was resolved that there
should be an iraraediate cereraony. With the uncon
ventional ideas of a young girl; who is always
suprerae upon the matter of her wedding rites, she
decided to plight her troth in the White House,
which has added to the Mansion, so crowded with
historic interest, its most brilliant annal, made bril
liant by the young, beautiful woman who there
became a bride.
It was a very private wedding, only the families
of the bridal pair, and the Cabinet members, with
their wives, being present. '

442 MRS. CLEVELAND.
A ring was used, though there had been some
question as to the propriety of it. Dissenters are
rising above the old prejudice against a symbol or
cereraony which was originally introduced by the
Catholic Church.
The social world were piqued, and frowned.
According to their code, if the lady came as royal
brides come to the houses of their lords, nothing but
a wedding conducted as royalty would conduct it,
could make the coming, seemly.
The people would gladly have rung marriage bells
in honor of the pair, and with bared heads strewn
roses in their path, as an open barouche wheeled
them from the front portico of the Executive Man
sion. To defraud them even of this small courtesy,
carriages from the south entrance were sent to all
points of the compass to cover or conceal their
departure. Mrs. Cleveland's pictures are everywhere, but
not one does her justice ; the gleara of the eye and
the radiant sraile are wanting. In repose, you say
she is very pretty ; if she smile, you say she is beau
tiful ; if she take you by the hand and give you her
cordial greeting, you feel for the moraent she has
given you a piece of her heart, and you are very sure
she has won your own.
She has a tall, girlish figure, and there is a girlish
delicacy in her pale, transparent skin, touched with a

MRS. CLEVELAND. 443
roseate gleam, her eyes are sapphire blue, fringed
with lashes so thick and long they look almost black,
and the eyebrows are heavy, delicately arched, very
dark, and nearly meet ; the broad, well-formed brow
stamps her intellectually, and is shaded by fluffy,
abundant waves of chestnut hair ; her lips are full
and red, and the artist, Amrai Farnham, declares
that she has the raost beautiful mouth ever seen.
Don't tell us of the need of royal training to fit
the well-born and well-bred American girl for high
station ; if our " first lady " had been born in the
purple, had come down through centuries of royal
descent, she could not bear with greater ease, tact
and graceful dignity the burden of social leadership
which has fallen upon her.
Once, in company she stood back for an aged lady
to pass before her; the lady said, "The President's
wife must precede all others." With a fleeting
blush, and pretty deprecating air, she said, " Must
I .' " and passed on. A man who had a goose all
trussed to toss into the Republican oven, sneeringly
reraarked, if she had been "to the raanner born," she
would have known that, without being told. Natu
ral high breeding, which inspires reverence for age,
goes farther than formal, royal etiquette ; only men
who kept geese to roast took exception.
If she be, to be compared with the homely, inele
gant ^ueen Charlotte, the prosaic, retiring Queen

444 MRS. CLEVELAND.
Adelaide, the haughty, heavy Queen Victoria, the
only English Queens since the States becarae inde
pendent, where will the honors lie .¦" In this she does,
not stand alone. Lady Washington was born and
bred in vice-regal courts, but Mrs. John Adams,
Mrs. Madison, Mrs. John Quincy Adams, Mrs. Polk,
Miss Lane and Mrs. Hayes are a galaxy of fair
women of White House fame who could stand that
test Mrs. Cleveland, the youngest among the wives of
the presidents, seems the soul of the administration;.
she has become an integral part of it by her sweet,
womanly ways, which subdue even the bitterest politi
cal opponents ; she has but to show her gracious
presence and winsome manners to capture every
heart and bridge every pitfall.
It is a comparatively easy thing for a beautiful
woman to captivate raen, but to please women is
quite another thing and requires a different sort of
talent, something in which a beautiful face is not the
chief factor. The women do adraire her grace and
beauty, but it is her sincerity, naturalness, and
cordialty, that has won their hearts.
One lady, high in the official ranks of the opposi
tion, says she feels dreadfully guilty, as if she were
conspiring to increase the lady's popularity by her
own open admiration and willing allegiance.
Mrs. Cleveland laughingly turns from politics ;

MRS. CLEVELAND. 445
only reproaches wine-bibbers by her own abstinence ;
is a religious woman and goes about her duties in a
gladsome sort of a way, as if the Master's ways were
ways of pleasantness.
The President is not magnetic, but he is said to
possess wonderful tact in dealing with politicians ;
can refuse those who come for favors and by some
indefinable power send them away in good humor.
His administration is noted for vetoing the pensions
awarded to men who never fired a gun, and to
women who never had husbands nor sons, off the
pension rolls. The opposition say all these cases
involve but a few thousands, and it is not wise to
use such strictness. Be the matter small or be it
great, the President refuses to bend to congressional
pressure — holds to unflinching integrity, and fidelity
to his constitutional oath.
The times present nothing which possesses dra
matic interest. The Indians and the English are,
or have been up in arms, as usual in every admin
istration. This time it was the Cheyennes and
Arapahoes in Indian Territory, who complained
that they were encroached upon and crowded from
their homes by the cattle-herders. The President
gave their case thorough investigation, which ended
in ordering away the cattle-herders. They pleaded
in vain, and then declared obedience in the pre
scribed time was physically impossible. It is no

446 MRS. CLEVELAND.
easier to deal with Cleveland than it. used to be
with Jackson when he believed himself to be in the
right, thpugh the former may not be so fond of hang
ing or of making so much bluster as Old Hickory.
The presence of General Sheridan and United States
troops made impossible things look easy to the
herders. The result is that the Cheyennes and
Arapahoes are in full possession of all that belongs
to thera.
The English difficulty is the fisheries in the north
east, which is as old as the independence of the
country, and for which Webster once almost traded
off Oregon.
To settle it there has been a treaty on the tapis.
Both sides clairaed it gave them less than their
rights, which led people to hope honors were easy,
but Congress decided the highest honors were given
to the English, which would snatch away ours, and
they would have none of it.
If it be right for individuals to do .as tbey would
be done by — the President takes the ground that
nations should do as they are done to ; if the Cana
dians. won't give as well, as take, and do it fairly, a
gulf is to open between us.
The. Canadians claira the Treaty of 1818 gave us
sorae ¦good things to which we hold fast, and they
won't abate a jot of their d^^ands. This has raised a
war-cloud as big. as a man's hand, but it is to be hoped

1V1K3. l^i^tVU-LAND. 447
nineteenth-century Christians can dwarf its growth,
and in tirae puff it away.
Mr. Cleveland has entered upon the fourth year of
his administration, and is the nominee of his party
for a second term. There are no exciting issues, as
in the ante-bellum days. The chief difficulty of the
governraent is an overflowing treasury, which re
quires a revision of the tariff, and this is the hinge
upon which the campaign is to turn.
The Republicans tell us, if the Deraocrats remain
in power, we shall have free wool — deal England all
our trump cards and financially ruin our own people ;
they promise, that if they may guide the 'ship of
state, there shall be free whiskey and the status of
every poor man shall be made better. This has a
pleasant ring, but the Democrats come to the front
and deny their statements in toto and tell us their
fair promises are dishonest tricks to bhnd the igno
rant and inveigle voters ; they promise on their part,
that if they, may remain in power, we shall dress
better, have more things for less money, but do insist
we shall pay squarely for our whiskey
There is a third party, whose Rozinante is groomed
to run a quixotic tilt against whiskey. They promise,
if the people wHl elect their candidate, to prohibit all
intoxicating drinks and save them in spite of 'them
selves.

448 MRS. CLEVELAND.
The women's party in the field won't count, unless
they take Mrs. Cleveland for their candidate, — then !
Her popularity makes her the most potent factor
in the administration which the Republicans have to
face and fight against.
After the President had been renominated in the
St. Louis Convention, the mention of her name
elicited such rounds of applause that men lost their
heads, just as Adam did once, and for a time it
looked as if the Old Roman must fold his bandanna,
and pass from the lists.
We may be sure that men wfll toss their hats and
shout vivas for the Lady of the White House.
Long may she reign !

YALE UNIVERSITY

^110-Q2__0i2549Wb_.

>»f JMiDiiWitM maiMMIM