■SHsdBap wm m m m ■im ■ MM gs$ ■HHI rail mm HCibrar:E5 i^orth vCaruifna $tatE lliiflwuili ,302954579 "' II III lllli mi ... CONTENTS. INTRODUCTION, MARTHA WASHINGTON, MBS. John" ADAMS, .... MARTHA JEFFERSON RANDOLPH," MRS. DOLLY PAINE MADISON, JAMES MONROE, . MRS. JOHN QUINCT ADAMS, MRS. ANDREW JACKSON, MRS. : «T, . Jn., MARTIN VAN BUREN, MRS ARRAM VAN BUREN, . M HENRY BARS] IV CHRISTIAN TYLER, JULIA GARDINER TYLER, MRS. JAMES K. TOLK, .... MRS. ZACKARY TAYLOR, . KRS. MILLARD FILLMORE, . ABIGAIL FILLMORE, .... MRS. FRANKLIN PIERCE, HARRIET LANE, . MRS. MARY TODD LINCOLN, . MRS. ANDREW JOHNSON, . MARTHA FATTER- ON MARY STOVER MRS. U. S. GRANT,- THE WHITE HOUSE, .... 1 11 sc 111. 181 223 243 284 333 331» S43 43C 439 460 495 511 620 534 5C1 584 COG CSS 650 662 .1 Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2010 with funding from NCSU Libraries http://www.archive.org/details/ladiesofwhitehoOOholl THE LADIES WHITE HOUSE. BT LAURA CARTER HOLLOWAY. fcHItt) illUiii Sttrl QngrikU|i, "Ilouor to Women I to them it is gircn To gurdeu the earth with the rosea of hetTon."— Schiller. 1871. UNITED states PUBLISHING 00., NEW YORK, CINCINNATI, CHICAGO, and ST. LOn? H. n BANCROFT & CO., SAN FRANCIS" Entered, a- Bgi ■ 1*36, bt lau:. ; --T. Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for tbe ButhMl I Of H Y LITTLS BELLE PATTERSON", THE BRIGHT ORNAMENT OF THE WniTE 1IOCSX Z V B I M HKP. GRANDFATHER'S ADMINISTRATlCK, THI8 BOOK m AFFECTION ATtLY DKDIOAZBD BV BD I1UKNP, THE AUTHORESS. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. FTC: to fact p. 11 • ■ 1M - " U3 " " < " m - •• « «ot " INTRODUCTION. A perusal of Strickland's " Queens of England 1 first originated the idea of writing the " Ladies of tha White House; 1 ' and the material thus dauntlessly pre- sented to the public is the result of the desire to at- tempt for American ladies what Miss Strickland has done for English Queens. The contrast is great ; the fault lies not in the sub- ject treated, nor yet in the biographer, but may rather be attributed to the genius of our simple and unosten- tatious form of government. The work is barren of auy grand spectacular or dramatic incidents so calculated to interest, but the short and simple annals of virtuous and exemplary women, who occupied the highest social and semi- official position known to their country, are replete with matter " to point a moral or adorn a tale." The genius of democratic liberties condemns the assumed emblems of nobility, and the practice of pre- fixing titles to the names of American women is repre- hensible. We do but ape our foreign friends and ren- der ourselves ridiculous, when we forget the lessons inculcated by ancestors who fled from oppression, and 8 INTRODUCTION. gave to the cause of freedom their blood — and to their descendants the unsullied names they inherit. Though politicians and designing men barter away the rights of the land as expressed in the Constitution, it may not be said of woman that she ignores the strides she has made under so benign a power, or for the tinsels of courts would exchange the social liberties and position she has gained. We have had no " Queens " or " Drawing rooms, 1 ' properly speaking, but u Ladies" and "Receptions' have been the synonymous terms whereby we have at- tested the stability of good morals and refined charac- ters. The Ladies of the White House have had no biographers. The customs of the Republic, which re- turns to private life those who have served it, effectu- ally deterred the historian from venturing on such difficult and obscure ground. The space allotted to them has been confined to descriptions of their per- sonal appearances on public occasions, or, perhaps, a mention of their names in sketches of their husbands. The obstacles are innumerable, and the reward hardly commensurate for those who undertake to di- vest the " Ladies v of party favoritism and sectional prejudices. A truthful writer seeks to destroy the unnatural estimate placed upon the wives of the Presi- dents, and give correct impressions of their worth. Personal resentments should find no outlets in such a form, nor should the memoirs of such be converted into mutual admiration societies, for the purpose of in- discriminate praise and soulless adulation. In all cases INTRODUCTION. 9 there is but one plain rule to follow, and that I con- ceive to be a truthful expression of opinions, founded on a fair and sufficiently full investigation. Biased in judgment toward none, withholding naught that is necessary to be known, and fearless in truth to myself, as to the persons of whom I write, the book, with its faults and merits, is committed to the care of a discerning public. Mrs. Washington has been more fortunate than any succeeding occupant of a similar position. Her life has been repeatedly written, and the few interesting incidents recorded of it are universally known. Wo- men, stimulated with a desire to rescue her memory from the dust of years", have been indefatigable in their labors, and I can offer nothing which has not already been more ably written. If I have been somewhat minute in describing the personal appearance of the subjects of my sketches, my reason for so doing lies in the fact that I believe we are so wisely created that our outward shapes and figures best express the quality of our inner being. Many noble women have shared the popularity of their husbands' high place — not a few strong, gifted natures have been content to lead automaton lives in that famous old mansion, while all have been the re- cipients of their country's gratitude. To the many kind friends who have contributed by their valuable assistance and effectual aid toward the success of this volume, I can only add here, as I have expressed elsewhere, my heartfelt thanks and grateful acknowledgments. 10 INTRODUCTION. Among the numerous friends whose pleasure it lias been to render valuable assistance, I may mention ex- President Johnson, Hon. William II. Seward, and Senator Fowler. Mrs. Eebecca Shunk, of Pennsyl- vania, the relative and friend of Miss Harriet Lane, has my profound regard for the very accurate sketch of her beautiful kinswoman. Colonel John Tyler, of Washington, and Colonel T. B. Thorpe, of New York City, have evinced their interest in my under- taking by continued acts of kindness, Mr. J. T. C. Clark, for the valuable manuscript placed at my dis- posal, and which has been of great service, has my sin- cere thauks, while to that faithful friend of childhood, Mr. Anson Nelson, of Nashville, Tennessee, whose eseal in my behalf is in keeping with the golden pre- cepts of his beautiful life, do I offer unchanged the affection always cherished for his matchless character. Nor is forgotten Dr. I. G. At wood. Mrs. Virginia Jef- ferson Trist, Mis3 Rhoda Fuller, Mrs. Bottle Harrison Eaton, and Col. Richard Cutts, of Washington City. Xone are forgotten, though many unmentioned, of those who have espoused my cause, and lent willing hands to insure success. To each and all in their widely-severed homes I return the assurance of appre- ciation, and unalterable regard. Kbw Tons, October, 1869. LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. MARTHA WASHINGTON. The first who, in our young republic, bore the honors as a President's wife, is described "as being rather below the middle size, but extremely well- shaped, with an agreeable countenance, dark hazel eyes and hair, and those frank, engaging manners so captivating in Southern women. She was not a beauty, but gentle and winning in her nature, and eminently congenial to her illustrious husband. Dur- ing their long and happy married life, he ever wore her likeness on his heart.'" " It was in 1758 that an officer, attired in a military undress, attended by a body-servant tall and militaire as his chief, crossed the ferry over the Pamunkey, a branch of the York River. On the boat's touching the southern or New Kent side, the soldier's progress was arrested by one of those personages who give the beau-ideal of the Virginia gentleman of the old regime ; the very soul of kindliness and hospitality. It was in vain the soldier urged his business at Williamsburg ; import- ant communications to the Governor, &c. Mr. Cham- berlayne, on whose domain the militaire had just 12 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOESE. landed, would hear no excuse. Colonel "Washington was a name and character so dear to all Virginians, that his passing by one of the old castles of Virginia without calling and partaking of the hospitalities the host was entirely out of the question. The Colonel, however, did. not surrender at discretion, but stoutly maintained his ground, till Chaniberlavne brought up his reserve in the intimation that he would introduce his friend to a young and charming widow then beneath his roof. The soldier capitu- lated on condition that he should dine, only dine, and then, by pressing his charger, and borrowin_ I the night, he would reach "Williamsburg before his Excellency could shake off his morniug slumbers. Orders were accordingly issued to Bishop, the I net's body-servant and faithful follower, who. to- gether ' with a fine English charger, had queathed by the dying Braddock to Major "Washing- ton on the famed and fated field of the Monongahela. Bishop, bred in the school of E n discipline, raised his hand to his cap, as much as to say. - Your honor's orders shall be obeyed." The Colonel now proceeded to the mansion, and was introduced to various guests (for when was a Virginia domicil of the olden time without guests T). and. above all. to the charming widow. Tradition relates that they were mutually pleased on this their firs: interview, nor is it remarkable ; they were of an age when im- pressions are strongest. The lady was fair to behold, of fascinating manners, and splendidly endowed with worldly benefits ; the hero, fresh from his early fields LADIES OE THE WHITE HOUSE. 13 redolent of fame, and with a form on which " every god did seem to set his seal, to give the world, assur- ance of a man." The morning passed pleasantly away ; evening came, with Bishop, true to his orders and firm at his post, holding the favorite charger with the one hand, while the other was waiting to offer the ready stirrup. The sun sank in the horizon, and yet the Colonel appeared not, and then the old soldier wondered at his chief's delay. " 'Twas strange ; 'twas passing strange." Surely he was not w r ont to be a single moment behind his appointments, for he was the most punctual of all punctual men. Meantime, the host enjoyed the scene of the veteran on duty at the gate, while the Colonel was so agreeably em- ployed. in the parlor ; and proclaiming that no guest ever left his house after sunset, his military visitor was, without much difficulty, persuaded to order Bishop to put up the horses for the night. The sun rode high in the heavens the ensuing day when the enamored soldier pressed with his spur his charger's sides and sped on his way to the seat of government, when, having despatched his public business, he retraced his steps, and at the " White House the engagement took place, with arrangements for the marriage." It is pleasant to remember that, with all the privations and hardships endured by both in after-years, they never encountered poverty. When Colonel Washington married Mrs. Custis, the ceremony was performed under the roof of her own home, and the broad lands connected to it were but a part of her large estate. Immediately after their wedding, which has been 14 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. described repeatedly as a most joyous and hap py affair, in which every belle and beau for miles around took part, they repaired at once to Mount Vernon. This property, a gift to Colonel Washing- ton from his elder brother, Lawrence, was situated on the southern side of the Potomac, about fifteen miles from Washington City, and remarkable for the mag- nificent view of the river in front, as well as the culti- vation and adornment of the vast estate. Here for seventeen bright and beautiful years they enjoyed the society of relatives and friends, and the constant com- panionship of each other. During those years of prosperity, Mrs. Washington had ample opportunity to manifest that elegance of manner for which she was remarkable. In her girlhood, as Miss Dandridge, she had enjoyed the best society of Williamsburg, and durinsr Gov. Dinwiddie's residence there, she had been one of the most popular and admired of the many blooming girls who had rendered the court of the Governor attractive. Married when very young to Colonel Custis, she had lived in comparative seclusion on his farm, devoting her time to her husband and children. Endeared to each other by the warmest affection, her life spent in dispensing that hospitality which was deemed a duty and a virtue, it seemed 'as if no trouble could ever mar her happiness. Colonel Custis was a gifted and refined gentleman, of emi- nently agreeable and cultivated sentiments, and the possessor by nature of a generous liberality which rendered him popular and respected. Here, on their plantation home, the congenial couple planned for LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 15 their infant boy, " whose unusual mental develop ments gave only too delusive and fleeting promise of the future." But even as they dwelt upon his manly sports and coming school-days, death came for the rare treasure. He died, and with him went out the light and brightness of his sensitive parent, who sank prematurely into the grave ere he had yet scarcely passed the years of maturity. Thus, in a little while, was taken the boy whose existence first called into being all the deathless love of a mother, and the companion and loving guide whose affection was in keeping with his pure and elevated mind. His romantic attention never diminished, and on his death-bed he bade her take charge of his estate and manage for herself and her two children. Nothing remains to us of her childhood save an indistinct tradition ; * perhaps' her infant years were spent at her father's country home, unmarked but by the gradual change of the little one into the shy young girl. That she was educated after the ex- igency of her time, at home, is likewise a truth gath- ered from the echoes of the past generation. Vir- ginia, in those early days — for she was born in May, 1732 — possessed no educational facilities, and the children of the wealthy were either sent abroad for accomplishments unattainable in their native land, or put under the care of a tutor or governess at home. Such knowledge as she possessed of the world was gleaned from the few books she read, and the society * She was a descendant of the Rev. Orlando Jones, a clergyman of Wales. 16 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. of her father's friends, for she had never been farther from home than Williamsburg. She is first mentioned as a rustic beauty and belle at the British Governor's residence, and was there addressed by Colonel Custis. After her marriage, she returned to a country life, and for several years lived in that old baronial style, the custom of the wealthy in the Colony. Her home was not far dis- tent from her fathers plantation, and these fieeting years were so fraught with every conceivable blessing that her young heart asked no other boon. The deaths of husband and child were the mysteries of the inscrutable will of Providence, whereby she was to accomplish her destiny. The war with the French and Indians in the West, and the defeat and death of Braddock, was the first incident of public note which had occurred in her life, and was followed by deaths in her family which so materially changed the even tenor of her way. Time soothed the wounds naught else could heal, and the young widow serenely discharged the duties of her position. "While she had vindicated the trust reposed in her by the success with which she con- trolled her large estate, she nevertheless yielded to the persuasions of her friends, and again accepted the protection of a husband. She was twenty-six years old when she first saw Colonel Washington at Mr. Chamberlayne's, and was remarkably youthful and handsome. " She had ever been the fortunate object of warm and disinterested affection," and from her first entrance into the society LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 17 of Williamsburg, down to the last hour of her life it was eminently illustrated. Few Lad been her sor- rows, and for each and every one endured she could count a twofold blessing. There was nothing in her life to foster the faults incident to human nature, for the rank weeds of poverty and bitterness which cramp and deform so many earth-lives, were unfelt and unknown to her. Subsequent to her marriage to Colonel Washing- ton she resided at his home, now for the first time graced by the presence of a mistress. It had been the pleasant retreat of Colonel Lawrence Washing- ton's bachelor friends, and the occasional residence of his younger brother, but never a congenial place of abode until he established his young wife there, whose happiness was to be in future his peculiar care. Her life w T as similar to her former position as Mrs. Custis, for she was again the wife of a wealthy, prosperous planter, accustomed to the most refined society of the country, and occasionally accompany- ing her husband to Williamsburg, where he was for fifteen successive years a member of the Legislature. " How noiseless falls the foot of time That only treads on flowers ! " Engaged in fascinating pleasures and congenial pursuits, it did not occur to Mrs. Washington how many summers of fragrantly blooming flowers and ripening fruits had sunk into the nnreturning past ; nor did she consider that the long lapse of time in which she had been sc happy had meted to others 18 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. measured drops of bitterness, turning all their bar- vest-times into chilling, dreary winter. There came to her a time when the pleasant home-life had to he abandoned, and for eight years the harmony of do- mestic peace was banished. The following letter, the only one preserved of the many addressed to her, is full of interest, and is replete with that thoughtfuiness which characterized "Washington in his capacity as a husband. Mrs. Washington, shortly before her death, destroyed every testimonial of this kind, unwilling that any other should read these evidences of affection : " Philadelphia. 13th June, 1775. " Mr Deaeest : I am now set down to write to you on a subject which fills me with inexpressible concern, and this concern is greatly aggravated and increased when I reflect upon the uneasiness I know it will give you. It has been determined in Con- gress that the whole army raised for the defence of the American cause shall be put under my care, and that it is necessary for me to proceed immediately to Boston to take upon me the command of it. " You may believe me, my dear Patsy, when I assure you, in the most solemn manner, that, so far from seeking this appointment, I have used every endeavor in my power to avoid it, not only from my unwillingness to part with you and the family, but from a consciousness of its beino- a trust too srreat for my capacity, and that I should enjoy more real hap- piness in one month with you at home, than I have LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 19 the most distant prospects of finding abroad if my stay were to be seven times seven years. But as it has been a kind of destiny that has thrown me upon this service, I shall hope that my undertaking it is designed to answer some good purpose. Yon might, and I suppose did, perceive, from the tenor of my letter, that I was apprehensive I could not avoid this appointment, as I did not pretend to intimate when I should return. That was the case. It was utterly out of my power to refuse this appointment, without exposing my character to such censures as would have reflected dishonor upon myself, and given pain to my friends. This, I am sure, could not and ought not to be pleasing to you, and must have lessened me considerably in my own esteem. I shall rely, therefore, confidently on that Providence which has heretofore preserved and been bountiful to me, not doubting but that I shall return safe to you in the Fall. I shall feel no pain from the toil or danger of the campaign ; my unhappiness will flow from the uneasiness I know you will feel from being left alone. I therefore beg that you will summon your whole fortitude, and pass your time as agreeably as possible. Nothing else will give me so much sincere satisfaction as to hear this, and to hear it from your own pen. My earnest and ardent desire is, that you would pur- sue any plan that is most likely to produce content and a tolerable degree of tranquillity, as it must add greatly to my uneasy feelings to hear that you are dissatisfied or complaining at what I really could not avoid. 20 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. " As life is always uncertain, and common pru- dence dictates to every man the necessity of settling his temporal concerns while it is in his power, I have, since I came to this place — for I had no time to do it before I left home — got Colonel Pendleton to draft a will for me by the directions I gave him, which I will now enclose. The provisions made for you, in case of my death, will, I hope, be agreeable. I shall add nothing more, as I have several letters to write, but to desire that you will remember me to your friends, and to assure you that I am, with the most unfeigned regard, my dear Patsy, " Your affectionate " Geokge Washington." This trial of separation was mitigated, although often prolonged to weary months. Ever when the long Indian summer days of October shed glory over the burnished forest trees, her cumbrous carriage, with its heavy hangings and massive springs, sug- gestive of comfort, was brought to the door and laden with all the appurtenances of a winter's visit. Year after year as she had ordered supplies for this annual trip to her husband's camp, she trusted it would be the last; and each time as the servants cooked and packed for this too oft-repeated absence, they wished it might hurry him home, to remember how many were needing his presence there. The battles were fierce and the struggles long, and if the orderly matron disliked the necessity of leaving home bo often and for so long a time, her heart was glad LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 21 of the sacrifice when she reached the doubly anxious husband who was watching and waiting for her— anxious for his wife, somewhere on the road, and for his bleeding country, struggling unavailingly for the eternal principles of freedom. It was her presence that lent sunshine to the oft-times dispirited com- mander, and sent a gleam of sunshine to the hearts of the officers, who saw in her coming the harbinger of their own happiness. For it was an established custom, for all who could, to send for their families after the commander had received and welcomed his. General Washington, after her annual trip, always wrote to persons who had been attentive and oblig- ing, and punctually thanked every one who had in any way conduced to her comfort during her tedious stages from Mount Yernon. Never but once or twice had those yearly moves been disagreeable, and though universally unoffending, she felt the painful effects of party bitterness ; but the noble intrepidity of General Washington relieved the depressing influences of such unusual occurrences. Her own pride suffered nothing in comparison to the natural sensitiveness she felt for her husband's fair fame, and the coldness on the part of others affected only as it reflected on her noble protector. Once, after an active campaign, as she was passing through Philadelphia, she was insulted by the ladies there, who declined noticing her by any civil- ities whatever. The tide in the affairs of men came, and, alas for human nature ! many of these haughty matrons were the first to welcome her there as the wife of the President. 22 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. Mrs. Washington -was extremely plain in her dress, and displayed little taste for those luxurious ornaments deemed appropriate for the wealthy and great. In her own home the spinning wheels and looms were kept constantly going, and her dresses were, many times, woven by her servants. General Washington wore at his inauguration a full suit of fine cloth, the handiwork of his own household. At a ball given in New Jersey in honor to herself, she w r ore a " simple russet gown," and white handker- chief about her neck, thereby setting an example to the women of the Revolution, who could ill afford to spend their time or means as lavishly as they might have desired. " On one occasion she gave the best proof of her success in domestic manufactures, by the exhibition of two of her dresses, which were com- posed of cotton, striped with silk, and entirely home- made.' 1 The silk stripes in the fabric were woven from " the ravelings of brown silk stockings and old crimson chair-covers ! " When peace was declared and her mantle folded round the suffering young Republic, Mrs. Washington welcomed to Mount Vernon her hero-husband, who naturally hoped that he might "move gently down the stream of life until he slept with his fathers." But a proud, fond nation called him again from his retreat to guide the helm of its boat ; nor was he who had fought her battles and served her well recreant now. Mrs. Washington's crowning glory in the world's esteem is the fact that she was the bosom companion of the "Father of his Country;" but her fame as LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 23 Martha Dandiids-e, and afterward as Martha Custis, is due alone to her moral worth. To her, as a girl and woman, belonged beauty, accomplishments, and great sweetness of disposition. Nor should we, in ascribing her imperishable memory to her husband's Greatness, fail to do reverence to the noble attributes of her own nature ; yet we cannot descend to the hyperbolical strain so often indulged in by writers when speaking of Mrs. Washington. In tracing the life of an individual, it becomes necessary to examine the great events and marked incidents of the times, and to most generally form from such landmarks the motives that prompted the acts of an earth-existence. More especially is this necessary if the era in which our subject lived was remarkable for any heroic deeds or valorous exploits which affected the condition of mankind. Personally, Mrs. Washington's life was a smooth and even existence, save as it was stirred by some natural cause, but, viewed in connection with the historical events of her day, it became one of peculiar interest. As a wife, mother, and friend, she was worthy of respect, but save only as the companion of Washing- ton is her record of public interest. She was in no wise a student, hardly a regular reader, nor gifted with literary ability ; but if that law, stem necessity, which knows no deviation, had forced her from her seclusion and luxury, hers would have been an organ- ization of active goodness. Most especially would she have been a benevolent woman, and it is to be regretted by posterity as a misfortune that there was 24 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. no real urgency for a more useful life. Her good foT tune it was to be a wealthy Southerner, young and attractive; and if she was not versed in the higher branches of literature, it was no fault of her own, probably, since the drawbacks incident to the pur- suit of knowledge, under the difficulties and obstacles of a life in a new country, together with their early marriages, deterred women from " drinking deep of the Pierean spring ; " but, under the benign influences of Christian morality, the children of the Old Domin- ion were carefully and virtuously trained, and were exemplary daughters, wives, and mothers. Many have occupied the nominal position Mrs. Washington held, but, in reality, no American, or, indeed, no woman of earth, will ever be so exalted in the hearts of a nation as was she ; and yet there is no single instance recorded of any act of heroism of hers, although she lived in " times that tried men's souls," and was so intimately associated through her husband with all the great events of the Revolution. " Nor does it appear, from the documents handed down to us, that she was a very notable housewife, but rather inclined to leave the matter under her husband's control, whose method and love of do- mestic life admirably fitted him to manage a large establishment." " They evidently lived together on very excellent terms, though she sometimes was dis- posed to quarrel with him about the grand-children, who he insisted (and he always carried the point) should be under thorough disciplinarians, as well as competent teachers, when they were sent from home o be educated." LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 25 It was a source of regret that she bore no children to him, but an able writer has said : " Providence left him childless that he mio-ht be the father of his country." It is hard to judge whether or not it was a blessing; but it certainly has not detracted from his greatness that he left no successor to his fame. On the contrary, it is all the brighter from having no cloud to dim the solitary grandeur of his spotless name. Few sons of truly great and illustrious men have ever reflected honor upon the father, and many have done otherwise. When we consider how many representative men of the world, in all nations and ages, have been burdened and oppressed with the humiliating conduct of their children, let it be a source of joy, rather than of regret, that there was but one Washington, either by the ties of consan- guinity or the will of Providence. This pure char- acter was never marred by any imperfect type of his own, and in his life we recognize the fact that occa- sionally, in great emergencies, God lifts up a man for the deed ; when the career is ended, the model, though not the example, is lost to the world. Mrs. Washington's two children were with her the bright years of her life intervening between her marriage and the Kevolution. Her daughter was fast budding into womanhood, and how beautiful, thought tl^e loving mother, were the delicate outlines of her fair young face ! Airy castles and visionary heaps of splendor reared their grand proportions in the twilight-clouds of her imagination ; and in the sun- light of security she saw not, or, if perchance did de- 26 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. fine, the indistinct outlines of the spectre, grim and gaunt, heeded not its significant appearance at her festive board. In all the natural charms of youth, freshness, and worldly possessions, the mother's idol, the brother's playmate, and fathers cherished daughter, died, and the light of the house went out, and a wail of anguish filled the air as the night winds rushed hur- ryingly past that desolate home on the shore of the murmuriug river. A great purpose was born out of that grief: a self-abnegated firmness to rise above the passionate lamentations of selfish sorrow ; and though after ward, for long and saddened years, a shadow of a former woe rested upon that quiet place, the poor loved it better than ever before, and meek charity found more willing hands than in the days of reck- less happiness. Religion, too, and winning sympathy, softened the poignant grief, and " The fates unwound the hall of time, And dealt it out to man. v The cannon of the Continental Militia at Lexine- ton belched forth its hoarse sound on the morning of the 15th of April, 1775, as in the gray twilight of approaching day a band of invaders u sallied up to demand the dispersion of the rebels. The echo of those reports went ringing through the distant forests, and fleetest couriers carried its tidings beyond the rippling waves of the Potomac, calling the friends of freedom to arms. Mrs. Washington heard the war- LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 27 cry, and felt that the absence of her husband was now indefinite; for she knew that from his post in the councils of the nation he would go to serve his country in the field. Nor was she mistaken in her conclusions. She met the Commander-in-chief at his winter headquarters at Cambridge, after an absence of nearly a year, in December, 1775, and continued during the Revolution to go each winter to his headquarters. In early spring she returned to her home, leaving be- hind her only child, whose desire to remain with his adopted father obtained from her a reluctant consent. '•For usefulness and honor she had reared him to manhood, and to her country she now resigned this last lingering scion of maternal hope and joy," and returned to Mount Vernon accompanied by her daug-hter-in-law.* o The next winter she passed at Morristo.wn, New Jersey, where she experienced some of the real hard- ships and sufferings of camp-life. The previous sea- son, at Cambridge, the officers and their families had resided in the mansions of the Tories, who had de- serted them to join the British ; but at Morristown she occupied a small frame-house, without any con- venience or comforts, and, as before, returned in the spring, with her daughter-in-law and children. Valley Forge, during the last months of 1777 and the early part of 1778, was the scene of the severest * Mr. Parke Custis was married to Miss Neily Calvert the 3rd of February 1774. 28 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. sufferings, replete with more terrible want than any ever known in the history of the Colonies." Daring all this season of horrors. Mrs. Washington remained with her husband, trying to comfort and animate him in the midst of his trials. Succeeding years brought the same routine, and victory and de- feat walked ofttimes hand in hand. October of 1781 brought "glad tidings of great joy" in the capture of Yorktown, and nothing seemed to defer the Ions' anticipated return of General Washington to his family and friends. Ere yet the shouts of victory rang out upon the listening ear of a continent, Colonel Custis was borne from the scene of triumph to a village in New Kent County to die, and soon the messenger startled the inmates of Mount Vernon with the mournful intelli- gence. Washington, amid the intense joy of his troops, could not conceal his anxious feelings for this deeply loved son of his adoption, and his heart went out to his crushed wife. " He left Yorktown on the 5th of November, and reached, the same day, the residence of his old friend, Colonel Bassett. He ar- rived just in time to receive the last breath of John Parke Custis, as he had several years previously ren- dered tender and pious offices at the death-bed of his * Six miles above iforristown, Xew Jersey, and twenty from Phil- adelphia, on the Schuylkill River, is the deep hollow known as Valley Forge. It is situated at the mouth of Valley Creek, and on either side rise the mountains above this lonely spot. To the fact that in this valley there had once been several forges, it owes its name, and here Washington found winter quarters for his suffering army LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 29 sister, Miss Custis. The deceased Lad been tLe object of Washington's care from cLildLood, and been cLer- isLed by Lira, with paternal affection. Eeared under Lis guidance and instructions, Le Lad been fitted to take a part in the public concerns of his country, and had acquitted himself with credit as a member of the Virginia Legislature. He was but twenty- eight years old at the time of his death, and left a widow and fonr young children. It was an unex- pected event, and the dying-scene was rendered peculiarly affecting from the presence of the mother and wife of the deceased.* Washington remained several days at Eltham to comfort them in their affliction. As a consolation to Mrs. "Washington in her bereavement, he adopted the two youngest chil- dren of the deceased, a boy and girl, who thenceforth formed a part of his immediate family." Mrs. Washington did not know that her husband had left the scene of his triumph, until he suddenly appeared in the room of death ; and it calmed her to have his presence in so trying an hour. He returned with the sad mourners to Mount Vernon, and mingled with those two sorrowful hearts the tears of his own sad soul. The world and its cares called him hence, and he turned away from his quiet home to meet the de- mands of his country for his services. Congress re- ceived him in Philadelphia with distinguished honors, and he everywhere was the recipient of his country's love and reverence. Called from his retirement to preside over the 30 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. destinies of his country as its first President, Wash- ington immediately left his home and repaired to New York City, the seat of government * Our young country demanded, in the beginning, that regard for forms and etiquette which would com- mand respect in the eyes of foreign courts ; and, act- ins: in accordance with this design, the house of the first President was furnished with elegance, and its routine was arranged in as formal a manner as that of the St. James or St. Cloud. Always an aristocrat, Mrs. Washington's adminis- tration as u hostess ? ' was but a reproduction of the customs and ceremonies of foreign heads of govern- ment, and her receptions were arranged on the plan of the English and French drawing-rooms. She assumed the duties of her position, as wife of the Chief Magistrate, with the twofold advantage of wealth and high social position, and was, in manner, appearance, and character, the pleasing and graceful representative of a class of which, unfortunately, the original is now taken from us, u a lady of tlie olden time:' Reared as she had been, a descendant of the chivalry of Virginia, who in their turn were the de- scendants of the English nobility — aristocratic, proud, and pleased with her lofty position — she brought to bear all the brightness of a prosperous existence, and her influence extended to foreign lands. * The journey to New York was a continued triumph. The august spectacle at the bridge of Trenton brought tears to the eyes of the Chief, and forms one of the most brilliant recollections of the age of Washington. LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 31 The levees held at the Kepublican Court — then located at No. 3 Franklin Square, New York — were numerously attended by the fashionable and refined of the city. The rules of the establishment were rigorous, and persons were excluded unless in the dress required. Access was not easy, and dignified statelinesss reigned over the mansion of the first President of the United States. The subjoined let- ter, written to Mrs. Warren soon after Mrs. Washing- ton's arrival at the seat of government, will present her views on the subject of her elevation more cor rectly than detached extracts from other books. " Your very friendly letter of last month has afforded me much more satisfaction than all the formal compliments and empty ceremonies of mere etiquette could possibly have done. I am not apt to forget the feelings which have been inspired by my former society with good acquaintances, nor to be insensible to their expressions of gratitude to the President; for you know me well enough to do me the justice to believe that I am fond only of what comes from the heart. Under a conviction that the demonstrations of respect and affection to him origi- nate in that source, I cannot deny that I have taken some interest and pleasure in them. The difficulties which presented themselves to view upon his first entering upon the Presidency, seem thus to be in some measure surmounted. It is owing to the kind- ness of our numerous friends in all quarters that my new and unwished-for situation is not a burden to 82 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. me. AYhen I was mucli younger, I should probably have enjoyed the innocent gayeties of life as much as most persons of my age ; but I had long since placed all prospects of my future worldly happiness in the still enjoyment of the fireside at Mount Vernon. I . little thought, when the war was finished, that anv circumstances could possibly happen which would call the General into public life again. I had antici- pated that from that moment we should be suffered to grow old together in solitude and tranquillity. That was the first and dearest wish of my heart. I will not, however, contemplate, with too much regret, disappointments that were inevitable, though his feel- ings and my own were in perfect unison with re- spect to our predilection for private life ; yet I can- not blame him for having acted according to his ideas of duty in obeying the voice of his country. The consciousness of having attempted to do all the good in his power, and the pleasure of finding his fellow-citizens so well satisfied with the disinterested- ness of his conduct, will doubtless be some compen- sation for the great sacrifices which I know he has made, Indeed, on his journey from Mount Vernon to this place, in his late tour through the Eastern States, by every public and every private informa- tion which has come to him, I am persuaded he ha- experienced nothing to make him repent his having acted from what he conceives to be a sense of indis- pensable duty. On the contrary, all his sensibility has been awakened in receiving such repeated and unequivocal proofs of sincere regard from his coun- LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 33 tryinen. With respect to myself, I sometimes think the arrangement is not quite as it ought to have been; tbat I, who had much rather be at home, should occupy a place with w r hich a great many younger and gayer women w T ould be extremely pleased. As my grand-children and domestic con- nections make up a great portion of the felicity which I looked for in this world, I shall hardly be able to find any substitute that w r ill indemnify me for the loss of such endearing society. I do not say this because I feel dissatisfied with my present sta- tion, for every body and every thing conspire to make me as contented as possible in it ; yet I have learned too much of the vanity of human affairs to expect felicity from the scenes of public life. I am still de termined to be cheerful and happy in whatever situ- ation I may be ; for I have also learned from experi- ence that the greater part of our happiness or misery depends on our dispositions and not on our circum- stances. We carry the seeds of the one or the other about Avith us in our minds, wherever we go." The second year of Washington's administration, the seat of government was removed to Philadelphia. Mrs. Washington was sick when she started on the journey, and remained in Philadelphia until she was strong enough to go on to Mount Vernon. The late Rev. Ashbel Green, for a long time President of Princeton College, and one of the early Chaplains of Congress, in speaking of the seat of government, said : " After a great deal of writing and 34 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. talking and controversy about the permanent seat of Congress under the present Constitution, it was de- termined that Philadelphia should "be honored with its presence for ten years, and afterward the perma- nent location should be in the city of Washington, where it now is. In the mean time, the Federal city was in building, and the Legislature of Pennsylvania I 1 a sum of money to build a hous : : the Presi- dent, perhaps with some hope that this might I to keep the - t : the general government in the Capital; for Philadelphia was then consi as ihe Capital of the State. "What was lately the Univer- sity of Pennsylvania, was the structure erected for the purpose. But as soon as General Wash:: _ n saw its dimensions, and a good while before it was finished, he let it be known that he would not occupy ttd should certainly no: _ : the expense of pur- thasing suitable furnitv- such a dwelling : :'.: it 13 to be understood, in -.".. : stern republi d body though: of Congress furnishing the Presi dent's house ; or if perchance such a thought did enter into some aristc aratic hea . :: was too unpopu- lar to be uttered. President Washington the: rented a house of !Mr. Robert Morris, in Market street, between Fifth and Sixth, on the south side. and furnished it handsomely, but not g :_•-; :usly." From Xew York, by w. ases, the house- hold furniture of individuals and government prop- erty was moved. General Washington superintended the preparation and embarkation of all his personal leciding the time and manner in which every LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 35 article was taken or sold, and attending to all with a scrupulous zeal which is surprising when we considei his public position. His letters to Mr. Lear are as characteristic of his private life as was his career as founder of the Republic. On Saturday afternoon, November the 28th, the President and his wife re- turned from Mount Vernon, and took up their resi- dence in the house of Mr. Morris, which the corpo- ration had obtained for them. They found Congress- men and public characters already assembled, in anticipation of a gay and brilliant season. Mrs. Washington held her drawing-rooms on Friday even- ing of each week ; company assembled early and retired before half-past ten. It is related on one occasion, at a levee held in New York the first year of the administration, that she remarked, as the hands on the clock approached ten, " that her husband re- tired punctually at ten, and she followed very soon afterward." A degree of stiffness and formality ex- isted at those receptions that we . of this day can scarcely understand, accustomed as w T e are to the familiarity and freedom of the present-day gather- ings ; but the imposing dignity of the Executive himself rebuked all attempts at equality, and the novelty of the position itself caused a general awk- wardness. Unlike later-day levees, the lady of the mansion always sat, and the guests were arranged in a circle round which the President passed, speaking kindly to each one. It is to be regretted that no descriptions exist of the appearance of Mrs. Wash- ington at these fete evenings. Little or no attention, 36 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. outside of social life, was paid to such items as how ladies dressed and what they appeared in, and letter- writing was not so universal as we of modern time3 have made it ; hence there remains no source from whence to gather these little trifles which form part of every newspaper edition of the present day. The President always had his hair powdered, and never offered his hand to any one at his public receptions. "On the national fete days, the commencement of the levee was announced by the firing of a salute from a pair of twelve-pounders stationed not far dis- tant from the Presidential mansion ; and the ex-Com- mander-in-chief paid his former companions in arms the compliments to wear the old continental uniform." The grandchildren of Mrs. Washington were her only companions during the President's long absences in his office ; and Mrs. Robert Morris was the most social visitor at the mansion. Several times mention is made of her presence at the side of Mrs. Washington dur- ing the presentations at the receptions. " And at all the dinners by the republican Chief Magistrate, the venerable Robert Morris took precedence of every other guest, invariably conducting Mrs. Washington, and sitting at her right hand." At this, the meridian period of her life, Mrs. Washington's personal appear- ance was, although somewhat portly in person, fresh and of an agreeable countenance. She had been a handsome woman thirty years before, when, on the 6th of January, 1T59, she was married to Colonel Washington ; and in an admirable picture of her by Woolaston, painted about the same time, we see some- LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 37 thing of that pleasing grace which is said to have been her distinction. During these years of her mar- ried life, she had enjoyed ample opportunity to culti- vate that elegance of manner for which she was con- spicuous, and to develop those conversational powers which rendered her so attractive. Washington, ever quiet and taciturn, depended on her ; and her tact and " gentler womanly politeness " relieved him from the irksome duties of hospitality when business called him elsewhere. His first levee, the Marchioness D'Yuro wrote to a friend in New York, "was .brilliant beyond any thing that could be imagined." She adds : " You never could have had such a drawing- room ; and though there was a great deal of extrava- gance, there was so much of Philadelphia tact in every thihsr. that it must have been confessed the most de- lio-htful occasion of the kind ever known in this coun- t.y." Mrs. Washington at this time was fifty-eight years old ; but her healthful, rational habits, and the cease- less influence of the principles by which her life was habitually regulated, enabled her still to exhibit un- diminished her characteristic activity, usefulness, and cheerfulness. From the " Eecollections " of a daugh- ter of Mrs. Binney, who resided opposite the Presi- dent's house, we have some interesting accounts. She says : " It was the General's custom frequently, when the day was fine, to come out to walk attended by his secretaries, Mr. Lear and Major Jackson. He always crossed directly over from his own door to the sunny side of the street, and walked down." She never 38 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. observed them conversing, and often wondered and watched as a child to see if any of the party spoke, but never perceived that any thing was said. He was always dressed in black, and all three wore cocked hats. M It was Mrs. Washington's custom io return visits on the third day. and in calling on her mot! i she would send a footman over, who would knock loudly and announce Mrs. Washington, who would then come over with Mr. Lear." i; Her manners were very easy, pleasant, and unceremonious, with the en acteristics of other Virginia ladies." An English manufacturer breakfasted with the President's family on the Sth of June, 1794. "I confess." he . "I was struck with awe and veneration when I recoil-: t- ed that I was now in the presence of the great Wa ington, * the noble and wise benefactor of the world,' as Mirabeau styles him. The President seemed very thoughtful, and was slow in delivering himself, which induced some to believe him reserved. But :t " rather, I apprehend, the result of much reflection ; for he had, to me, an appearance of affability and accom- modation. He was at this time in his sixty-third year, but had very little the appearance of bay- ing been all his life so exceedingly temperate. Mrs.. Washington herself made tea and coffee for us. On the table were two small plates of sliced tongue, and diy toast, bread and butter, but no broiled fish, as is the general custom here. She struck me as being something older than the President, though I under- stand they were both "born the same year. She was extremely simple in her dress, and wore a very plain * cap, with her gray hair turned up under it/' LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 39 Eight years of prosperity and progression blessed the administration of Washington, and now the hour of departure was drawing near. With feelings of pleasure, Mrs. Washington prepared for the long-de- sired return to her home on the Potomac ; and when the dauntless robins began to sing and hardy daisies to bloom, the family set out, accompanied by the son of General Lafayette. Once again the wife and grand- mother assumed the duties congenial to her nature, and it was reasonable to hope that she might pass many years of tranquil, unalloyed happiness under her own vine and fig-tree. The old life was resumed, and the lono;-silent house echoed the voices of the young and happy. It was during this season of rest and quiet that Washington devoted much of his time to the planning and laying out of the city which bears his name. An account is given of his coming, on one occasion, to it, and when he reached the wharf the cannon pealed forth a welcome. Passing along the Georgetown road, he halted in front of the place desig- nated as the " White House," so called in honor of the former home of his w T ife, and intended as a resi- dence for the President ; workmen were then laying the foundation of the building afterward burned. He was deeply interested in the welfare of the chosen seat of the government, and an amusing anecdote is related of his conference with David Burns, whose residence was on the ground south of the Presidential mansion, and was until recently standing. Washing- ton alludes to him in one of his letters as the " obsti- nate Mr. Burns;" and it is related that, when the 40 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. President was dwelling upon the advantage he would derive from the sale, the old man replied, " I suppose you think people here are going to take every grist that comes from you as pure grain ; but what w T ould you have been' if you hadn't married the widow Cus- tis ? " x Mount Vernon was constantly thronged with visit ors ; and to the " Correspondence of Washington," which, during these last two years of his life, are very voluminous, we are indebted for many items of public and private interest. But a blow was in store for the contented wife, which none suspected. A cold, taken after a long ride about the farm, produced fever and swelling of the throat, which, on the 14th of Decem- ber, 1799, resulted in the death of the deeply-loved husband. A wail of anguish went up from the na- tion as the direful new r s flew by each hut and hamlet ; but in that hallowed room, forever consecrated, the brave woman who has lost her all, sits calmly serene. She suspects that he- is gone, for the doctor and Mr. Lear are gazing at each other in mute anguish ; and rising from her ]ow seat at the foot of his bed, she sees the limbs are composed and the breath gone. O agony ! what is there so fearful to a clinging woman's heart as the strong, loving arm that enfolded her, cold and stiff forever. The cover is straightened as he fixed it, and his face is composed after the vio- lent struggle ; but what is this appearance of triumph to the desolate widov/ed being, who gasps for breath like one drowning, as she totters to his side ? But the sweet features calm her ; perhaps she is thinking LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. • 41 of how he would have her do if his spirit could only speak. Whatever of inward peace receiving, there is a determined effort at control perceptible, and she is saying, " 'Tis well ; all is now over. I shall soon fol- low him. I have no more trials to pass through.' 1 One long look, as if her hungry soul w T as obtaining food to feed on through, all eternity, and she is assist- ed from the room. How full of holy memories must that chamber of death have been to her as she sum- moned courage to turn and drink in the last look. The great fireside, with the smouldering embers dying into ashes gray — the quaint old mantle, all covered with vials and appendages of a sick-apartment — their easy-chairs side by side, one deserted forever, and cruel sight to the pitiful sufferer — their bed, upon which lay her friend and companion for the last time. It was wrong to let her stand there and suffer so, but her awe-stricken appearance paralyzed the stoutest heart, and they only waited. A pale, haggard look succeeds the fierce intensity of her gaze, and she wraps her shawl about her, and turns forever froni all she in that hour lost. Another room receives her ; another fire is built for her ; and in the endless watches of that black night she masters the longings of her heart, and never more crossed the threshold of that chamber of her loved and lost. A sickening feeling of utter loneliness and desolation ushered in the early morn of the first day of her widowhood, but her resolve was made ; and when her loved ones saw it pained her, they urged her no more that she should go back to the Caaba of her heart. 42 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. •• Congress resolved, that a marble monument be erected by the United States, in the Capitol at the city of Washington, and that the family of- George Wash- ington be requested to permit his body to be deposited under it, and that the monument be so designed as to commemorate the great events of his military and • : "::;cal life. And it further resolved, *• That there be a funeral procession from Congress Hall to the German Lutheran Church in honor of the memory of General George Washington, on Thursday the 26th inst., and that an oration be prepared at the request of Congress, to be delivered before both Houses on that day, and that the President of the Senate and Speaker of the House of Representatives be desired to request one of the members of Congress to prepare and deliver the same. And it further re- solved, •• That the President of the United States be re- :ed to direct a copy of the resolutions to be transmitted to Mrs. Washington, assuring her of the profound respect Congress will ever bear to her person and character ; of their condolence on the late afflict- ing Dispensation of Providence, and entreating her assent to the interment of the Remains of General George Washington in the manner expressed in the first resolution. And it further Resolved : B That the President of the United States be requested to issue a Proclamation ying the People throughout the United States the recommendation contained in the third resolution.' 1 In reply to the above resolutions which were LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 43 transmitted by the President (John Adams) on the 23d Dec, 1799, Mrs. Washington says : "Mount Vernon, Dec. Slaf, 1799. " Sir : While I feel with keenest anguish the late dispensation of Divine Providence, I cannot be in- sensible to the mournful tributes of respect and veneration which are paid to the memory of my dear, deceased husband, and as his best services and most anxious wishes were always devoted to the welfare and happiness of his country, to know that they were truly appreciated and gratefully remembered, affords no inconsiderable consolation. " Taught by that great example which I have so long had before me, never to oppose my private wishes to the public will, I must consent to the request made by Congress which you have had the goodness to transmit to me, and in doing this I need not, I cannot say, what a sacrifice of individual feeling I make to a sense of public duty. "With grateful acknowledgments and unfeigned thanks for the personal respects and evidences of con- dolence expressed by Congress and yourself, " I remain, very respectfully, " Your most obedient and humble servant, "MaETHA WASHINGTON." But this pain might have been spared her, for the monument was never erected, and the remains are still at Mount Vernon their most fitting resting-place. The twofold duties of life pressed constantly upon 44 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. her, nor did she shirk any claim. Yet the compressed lip, and the ofttimes quivering eyelid betrayed the restless nioanin^s of her aching heart. It has been remarked that she resembled Wash- ington in manners and person ; she was like him as every weaker nature is like a stronger one living in close relationship. She received from his stronger will his influences, and he impressed her with his views so thoroughly that she couli not distinguish her own. Relying on his guidance in every thing, she studied his features until her softer lineaments imper- ceptibly grew like his, and the tones of her voice sounded wonderfully similar. Imbibing the senti- ments and teachings of such a nature, her own life was ennobled and his rendered happy. In the en era vine we have before us, taken while in the Executive Mansion, we trace the gradual devel- opment of her life. All the way through it has counted more of bliss than of sorrow, and the calm contentment of the face in repose speaks of a heart full of peace and pleasantness. It is not the coun- tenance of a gay or sunny-hearted woman, nay, rather the well-reflected satisfaction of an inward faith in her religion and confidence and dependence in the hus- band in whom she had so long trusted. How full of sympathy and kindness of heart is that serene face, and how instinctively we would trust it ! Sustained as she was by her deep devotional piety, and shielded by the protecting arm of her husband, she grew in spirit- ual development and fondly believed herself strong and self-reliant. But when she was tested, when the LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE. 45 earthly support was removed, the inward strength was insufficient, and she pined under the loss until she died. " Few women have ever figured in the great drama of life amid scenes so varied and imposing, with so few faults and 'so many virtues as the subject of this sketch. Identified with the 'Father of his Country' in the great events which led to the establishment of a nation's independence, Mrs. Washington necessarily partook much of his thoughts, his councils, and his views. Often at his side in those awful times that tried his soul, her cheerfulness soothed his anxieties, her firmness inspired confidence, while her devotional piety toward the Supreme Being enabled her to discern a ray of hope amid the darkness of a horizon clouded by despair." She had lived through the " five grand acts of the drama of American Independence,' 1 had witnessed its prelude and its closing tableaux, and stood waiting to hear the swell of the pean she was apt to sin^ in heaven. Her life was passed in seasons of dark- ness, as of glorious, refulgent happiness, and was con- temporaneous with some of the greatest minds that will ever shine out from any century. Her sphere was limited entirely to social occupations, and possessing wealth and position she gratified her taste. Had her character been a decided one, it would have stamped the a^e in which she flourished, for, as tliere never was but one Washington, so there will never come a time when there will be the same opportunities as Mrs. Washington had for winning a name and an individu- ality. But she did not aspire to any nobler ambition 46 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. than merely to perform the duties of her home, and she lives in the memories of her descendants, and in the hearts of the people of the United States, as the wife of the illustrious Father of his Country, and the first in position of the women of the Revolution. The death of her husband was the last event of Mrs. Washington's life. It shattered her nerves and broke her heart. She never recovered from it. The shaft of agony which had buried itself in her soul was never removed. " Fate had now dealt the last deadly blow to the earthly happiness of Mrs. "Washington ! Her children, their father, the faithful, affectionate, sympathizing friend and counsellor with whom through unnumbered years she had stood side by side in many and grievous trials, dangers, and sorrows — all were gone ! " It was useless to strive to be courageous, a glance at the low, narrow vault under the side of the hill unnerved her. She stood, the desolate survivor, like a lone sentinel upon a deserted battle-field, regard- ing in mute despair the fatal destruction of hope, and love, and joy. Through all time that Saturday night would be the closing scene of her life, even though her existence should be lengthened to a span of years. 41 The memory of his faintest tone, In the deep midnight came upon her soul, And cheered the passing hours so sad, so lone, As on they rolled." Without religious faith she would have been haughty, reserved, and indolent, and with a less noble husband could never have been as even-tempered and concilia LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 47 tory as she was. But all of life was love to her; and all of our memory of her is beautiful harmony. Thirty months numbered themselves among eter- nity's uncounted years, and it became apparent to all that another death-scene was to be enacted, and the lonely occupant of the room above that other chamber of dissolution, was reaching the goal of its long hoped- for desire. The gentle spirit was panting to free it self, and the glad light in the dim eye asserted the pleasure experienced in the knowledge of the coming change. For many months Mrs. Washington had been growing more gloomy and silent than ever before, and the friends who gathered about her called her actions strange and incomprehensible. She staid much alone, and declined every offer of company, but toward the last the truth flashed upon her that she, too, was going, and her heart grew young again. Blessing all about her, she sank quietly to rest, in the seventy-first year of her age, and the third of her widowhood. u In the spring of 1801, Martha Washington descended to the grave, cheered by the prospect of a blessed immortality, and mourned by the millions of a niighty empire." Her resting-place beside her husband is, like Mecca and Jerusalem, the resort of the travellers of all na- tions, who, wandering in its hallowed precincts, imbibe anew admiration and veneration for the immortal ge- nius, whose name is traced in imperishable remem* brance in the hearts of his grateful countrymen. Side by side their bodies lie crumbling away, while their 4S LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. spirits, through all the ramifications of an eternal fu- ture, wend their way to the Author and Source of their being. The placid Potomac kisses the banks of that precious domain, while the ripples of the reced- ing tide utter a mourDful sound as it quits the side of the stream, hallowed forever. The temptation to see this historic and romantic home of the most beloved of the nation's dead was not to be resisted, and in company with one of the few surviving relatives who bears that honored name, we fcarted to the steamer. Although the weather was cold and disagreeable, with a threatening aspect of a snow-storm, we found the little vessel fib . Lth pil- grims, bound to the tomb of Washington. This trip is one of intense interest, and particularly since the events of the late war have given to all the locality additional attraction. Arlington, Alexandria, and 1 Washington ! what memories are stirred by mention of these names, and the remembrance is acute when we stand face to face with such objects. Alexandria, with its old moss-covered houses and ancient gnarled :: visibly impresses ith its claims to respect. The old comm lear; to every generous American, whether of northen .thern 1 .'. ciallyto the people of the south whose ancestors fond- ly termed it the " motherland," and the refrain of e sons; w " How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood, When fond recollection presents them to view ! The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wild-wood And every loved spot which my infancy kr.ew! LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 49 The wide-spreading pond, and the mill that stood by it. The bridge, and the rock, where the cataract fell. The cot of my father, the dairy -house nigh it, And e'en the rude backet that hung in the welL" Far np the narrow quiet streets I looked, and discern- ed in the distance a veritable oscillating arm of a well, and fancy quickly added the " old oaken bucket, the iron bound bucket, which hung in the well." It was the venerable look of the place which appealed strong* est to the senses, and the fact that it is long past a cen- tury old, its foundation having been laid in 1748. As the boat anchored at the wharf to put off passengers, I gazed wistfully up those streets through which Washington had often passed, and looked in vain to see some " vast and venerable pile, so old it seemed only not to fall," 1 but the residences of most of the old inhabitants are the abodes of wealth, and they exhibit evidences of care and preservation. Alexandria was early a place of some note, for five colonial governors met here by appointment, in 1755, to take measures with General Braddock respecting his expedition to the "West. - That expedition proceeded from Alexandria, and tradition still points to the site on which now stands the olden Episcopal Church (but then, in the woods), as the spot where he pitched his tent, while the road ■ over the western hills by which his army withdrew, long bore the name of this unfor- tunate commander. But the reminiscences which the Alexandrians most cherish are those which associate their town with the domestic attachments and habits of Washington, and the stranger is still pointed to the 4 50 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. church of which he was vestryman ; to the pew in which he customarily sate ; and many striking memo- rials of his varied life are carefully preserved." That old church where Washington and his wife were wont to worship, how tenderly we look upon it, and with what hallowed feelings ! All the common- place thoughts that fill our minds every day are laid aside, while we contemplate the character of the man who has stamped his image in the hearts of freemen throughout the world. There is another church at which one feels these ennobling heart-throbs, and which I confess moved me as sensibly, and that is the little Dutch church in "Sleepy Hollow," once the shrine at which Washington Irving offered the adora- tion of his guileless heart. His beautifully expressed admiration of Washington possibly occasioned the con- stant comparison, and to me these two temples are as inseparable as the memories of these great men are linked. The weather, which had been indicative all day of a storm, cleared off as we approached Mount Vernon, and as we were leaving the boat, it shone brightly upon us. Winding round the hill, following a narrow pathway, we reached the tomb before the persons who had taken the carriage-way came in view, but prefer- ring to examine it last, that we might be more careful, we continued the meandering path to the front of the bouse. It had been the home, in early youth, of the person who accompanied us, and, listening to her ex- planations and descriptions, we felt an interest which we could not otherwise summon. The house is bare LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 51 of any furniture whatever, save a small quantity owned by the persons who live there, and on a winter's day looked cheerless and uninviting. " The central part of Mount Vernon house was built by Lawrence "Wash- ington, brother to the General ; the wings were ad- ded by the General, and the whole named after Admi- ral Vernon, under whom Lawrence Washington had served." The dininor-room on the risrlit contains the Italian marble mantle-piece sent from Italy to General Washington. I feel ashamed to add, it is cased in wire-work to prevent its being demolished by in- judicious, not to say criminal visitors. The rooms are not large, with the exception of the one mentioned above, which is spacious ; the quaint, old wainscoting and wrought cornices are curious, and in harmonv with the adornments of the mansion. "The whole house presents a curious spectacle. Every thing reminds one of formei' days; and in treading the halls of Mount Ver- non, the mind reverts incessantly to that majestic form, whose shadow, cast upon those very walls, seems to the mind's eye ready to start before us into life." The piazza reaches from the ground to the eaves of the roof, and is guarded on the top by a bright and taste- ful balustrade ; the pillars are large and present a sim- ple and grand idea to the mind. Beneath this por,ch the "Father of his Country " was accustomed to walk, and the ancient stones, to hearts of enthusiasm, are full of deep and meditative interest. The room in which he died is small and now be- reft of every thing save the mantle-piece ; just above is the apartment in which she breathed her dying 52 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. blessing. A narrow stair-case leads from the door of his room, which was never entered "by her after his death. The green-house, once the pride of Mra Washington, has since been burned, and there remains but a very small one, put together carelessly to pro- tect the few rare plants remaining. In front of the house (I speak of the fronts facing the orchards, and not the river, each of which are alike very beautiful), is a spacious lawn surrounded by serpentine walks. On either side, brick walls, all covered with ivy and ancient moss, enclose gardens. The one on the right of the house was once tilled with cosi.lv ornamental plants from the tropical climes, and in which was the green- house ; but the box trees have grown high and irregu- lar, and the creepers are running wild over what hardy rose bushes still survive to tell of a past existence of care and beauty. In the life-time of Mrs. "Washington, her home must have been very beautiful, "ere yet time's effacing fingers had traced the lines where beauty lingered." It is even now a splendid old place, but rapidly losing the interest it once had. The estate has passed out of the family, and the furniture has been removed by descendants, to whom it was given : much that lent a charm to the place is gone, and the only in- teresting object, save the interior of the mansion itself, is the key of the Bastile, presented by Lafayette, and hanging in a case on the wall. Portions of the house are closed, and the stairway in the front hall is barri- caded to prevent the intrusion of visitors. The room in which Mrs. Washington died, just above the one occupied by her husband, was locked, and we did not LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 53 view the room in which she suffered so silently, and from which her freed spirit sought its friend and mate. The small windows and low ceilings, together with the many little closets and dark passage-ways, strike one strangely who is accustomed to the mansions of modern times ; but these old homesteads are numerous throughout the " Old Dominion," and are the most precious of worldly possessions to the descendants of worthy families. There must be more than twenty apartments, most of them small and plain in finish. The narrow doors and wide fire-places are the ensigns of a past age and many years of change, but are elo- quent in their obsoleteness. The library which ordinarily is the most interest- ing room in any house, should be doubly so in this home of Washington's; but, bare of all save the empty cases in the wall, it is the gloomiest of all. Books all gone, and the occupation of the room by the present residents deprives it of any attractions it might other- wise have. Here, early in the morning and late at night, he worked continuously, keeping up his increas- ing correspondence and managing his vast respon- sibilities. Murmurs of another war reached him as he sat at his table planning rural improvements, and from this room he wrote accepting the position no other could fill while he lived. Here death found him, the night before his last illness, when cold and hoarse he came in from his long ride, and warmed • himself by his library fire. That night he went up to his room over this favorite study, 54 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. and said in reply to a member of his family as he passed out, who urged him to do something for it, " No, you know I never take any thing for a cold. Let it go as it came." The winds and rains of sixty-eight years have beaten upon that sacred home on the high banks of the silvery waters beneath, since the widowed, weary wife was laid to rest beside her noble dead, and the snows of winter and storms of summer have left its weather-worn and stained front looking like some ghost of other days left alone to tell of its former life and beauty. In its lonely grandeur it stands appeal- ing to us for that reverence born of sentiments, stirred by the recollections of the great and good. I could not resist the feelings of gloomy depression as we passed out the front toward the river, and took the path leading to the tomb. Far down the side of the hill, perched on a knoll and surrounded by trees, I saw a summer-house and .the walk leading by many angles down to it. The view of the river is said to be fine from this point, but we did not undertake the difficulties of getting down to it. The wooden steps constructed across the ravines are fast sinking to ruin, and the swollen stream from the side of the hill dash- ing against them, was distinctly audible to us as we stood far above. *The swallows and bats seemed to have built their nests in its forsaken interior, and we were not inclined to molest them. I looked back at the old homestead endeared to every American, and stamped upon memory each portion of its outlines. LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 55 High above me, the small cnpalo sported its little glittering weather-vane as brilliant as though it had been gilded but yesterday. Here again was an object which unconsciously associated Washington with his namesake, Washington Irving. In the pleasant sum- mer-time I had stood in front of the little " Woolfort's Roost," and enjoyed to the finest fibre of my nature its lovely simplicity. Above it, too, a little weather-cock coquetted with the wind as it swept down from Tap- pan Zee, the same said to have been carefully removed from the Vander Hayden palace at Albany, and placed there by tender hands long years ago. Upon the side of the hill I had stopped then as now, and looked back at the house above me, embosomed in vines inter- spersed with delicately tinted fuchsias. Even as I was standing now looking for the first and perhaps the last time upon Mount Vernon, so in the beautiful harvest month I had gazed upon the Hudson spread out like a vast panorama with its graceful yachts and swift schooners, and descended the winding path to the water's edge. But Mount Vernon was dressed in winters dreariness, and its desolate silence oppressed rather than elevated the feelings. It is a fit place for meditation and communion, and to a spiritual nature the influences of the ancient home are elevating and full of harmony. When the only ap- proach was by conveyance from Alexandria, the visi- tors were not so numerous as since the days of a daily steamer from Washington City, and much of the solemnity usually felt for so renowned a spot is marred by the coarse remark and thoughtless acts of the many who saunter through the grounds. 56 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOESE. A gay party of idlers had arranged their eatables upon the stone steps of the piazza, and sat in the sun shine lau^hins: rnerrilv. Even those old rocks srcoothlv worn, where so often had stood the g] were not hallowed nor protected from the selfish con- venience of unrefined people. Callous, indeed, must the heart which could walk unmoved through bo endeared a scene. To tread the haunts where ,; men have thought and acted . ..:." is ennobling to sensi- tive organizations, and to linger over evidences of olden times inspires all generous minds with enthu- siasm. The grounds roll downward from the mansion house, and in a green hollow midway between that and the river, and about one hundred and fifty yards from the summer house, and thirty rods from the house is the vault where reposed the remains of "V ington and Martha his wife. Now the tomb contains about thirty members of his family, and is sealed up, and in front of the main vault, enclosed by an iron railing, are the two sarconhasd containing: the ashes of husband and wife. " A melancholy glory kindles around that cold pile of marble,"' and we stood mni thought. But before reaching it we pass the old vault where for a few years he was buried. The few cedars on it are withered and the door stands open, presenting a desolate appearance. With vines and flowers, and leafy trees filled with singing birds, this sight would perhaps be less chilling ; but the barren aspects of nature united with the solemn stillness of the country, eon* LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 57 spired to freeze every thought of life and beauty, and the mind dwelt upon the rust of decay. Lafayette stopped at Mount Vernon when about to return to France after his visit to this country, in 1826, having reserved for the last his visit to Washington's Tomb, and the scene is thus described by Mr. Seward in his Life of John Quincy Adams : " When the boat came opposite the tomb of Wash- ington, at Mount Vernon, it paused in its progress, Lafayette arose. The wonders which he had per- formed for a man of his age, in successfully accom- plishing labors enough to have tested his meridian vigor, whose animation rather resembled the spring than the winter of life, now seemed unequal to the tagk he was about to perform—to take a last look at ' The Tomb of Washington ! ' " He advanced to the effort. A silence the most impressive reigned around, till the strains of sweet and plaintive music completed the grandeur and sacred solemnity of the scene. All hearts beat in unison with the throbbino-s of the veteran's bosom, as he looked for the last time on the sepulchre which con- tained the ashes of the first of men ! He spoke not, but appeared absorbed in the mighty recollections which the place and the occasion inspired. 1 ' During the summer of 1860, Albert, Prince of Wales, and heir apparent to the Throne of England, visited, in company with President Buchanan, the tomb of Washington. Here amid the gorgeous beau- ties of a southern summer, the grandson of George the Third forgot his royalty in the presence of departed 58 LADIES 01 THE WHITE HOUSE. worth ; and bent Lis knee in awe before a mere- hand* ful of ashes, wl : for the c rble encom- passing them, would be blown to the four winds of the earth. It was a strange sight I that bright youthful form kneeling before the tomb of the '• Fa- ther of his ( antry,"" and attesting his appreciation of the great spirit which more than any other wr : its broad domains from him. But a stronger link than mere p L the feelings, and bound that royal scion to the P grave. '"Love of Liberty" was the magic wand which kindled in the ist of the stranger adoration for the memory of the departed, and when he turned to leave that place of sacredness, eyes rfot used to wc were moist with falling te s Stealthily the years : by, and we wist not they are passing, yet the muffled and hoarse voice of a cen- tury astounds us with its parting. The centennial birthdays have been celebrated; seen we approach the hundredth ann:v_: ary of victories iron and inde- pendence achieved. I: the [rita of the Chief and his coi - ate permitted to review their earthly pilgrimage, let it be a source of 'gratification to us to kn f smile upon a Republic of p Their bodies we guard, while they crumbled away in the bosom of their bn th-ph a long as a son of America remains a freeman, it will be a well-spring of inspiration to feel that "t atains the P Patrice and the woman immortalized by his 1 We Lave known changes as a nation, and there have been dreadful contentions in this beantH LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 59 of ours, but never will there come a time when over that tomb at Mount Vernon we will refuse to meet as brothers, and renew again our allegiance above the ashes of our Father, who was " first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen." 00 LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE. Has. JOHN ADAMS, Abigail Smith, the daughter of a Xew England Congregationalist minister, was 1 rn at Weymouth, in 1744. Her father was the settled pastor of that place for more than forty years, and her grandfather was also a minister of the same denomination in a l boring town. The younger years of her life were passed in the quiet seclusion of her grandfather's house ; and under the instructions of her grandmother, she imbibed most of the lessons which were the most deeply impressed upon her mind. " I have not forgotten," she says in a letter to her own daughter, in the year 1795. ''the excellent lessons which I received from my grand- mother at a very early period of life ; I frequently think they mr.de a more durable impression upon mv mind than those which I received from my own parents." e is due to the memory of those virtues, the sweet remembrance of which will nourish. though she has lon_ vith her ancestors. Sv 1 from the young members of her own family, and never su jected to the ordinary school routine, her imaginative faculties bid fair to develop at the expense of her judgment, but the austere religion of her ancestors, and the daily example of strict com- pliance to forms, forbade the too great indulgence of fancy. " She bad many relations both on the father's A Mnon J LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE. 61 and mother's side, and with these she was upon as intimate terms as circumstances would allow. The distances between the homes of the young people was, however, too great, and the means of their parents too narrow, to admit of very frequent personal intercourse, the substitute for which was a rapid interchange of writ- ten communication." " The women of the last century," observes Mr. Charles Francis Adams in his memoir of his grandmother, " were more remarkable for their letter-writing propensities, than the novel-reading and more pretending daughters of this era : their field was larger, and the stirring events of the times made it an object of more interest. Xow, the close connec- tion between all parts of this country, and rapid means of transmitting intelligence through the medium of telegraphs and newspapers, renders the slower process of writing letters unnecessary, save in instances of private importance. The frugal habits of the sparsely settled country afforded little material for the fashion- able chit-chat which forms so large a part of the social life of to-day, and the limited education of woman was another draAYback to the indulgence of a pleasure in which they really excelled. Upon what, then, do we base the assertion that they were remarkable for their habits of writing. Even though self-taught, the young ladies of Massachusetts were certainly readers, and their taste was not for the feeble and nerveless sentiments, but was derived from the deepest wells of English literature. Almost every house in the Colony possessed some old heir-looms in the shape of standard books, even if the number was limited to the Bible 62 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. and dictionary. Many, especially ministers, could dis- play relics of their English ancestors' intelligence in the libraries handed. down to them, and the study of their contents was evident in many of the grave cor- respondences of that early time. 1 ' To learning, in the ordinary sense of that term, she could make no claim. She did not enjoy an opportunity to acquire even such as there mi^ht have been, for the delicate state of her health forbade the idea of sending her away from home to obtain them. In speaking of her deficiencies, the year before her death, she says : " My early education did not partake of the abundant opportunity which the present day offers, and which even our common coun- try schools now afford. I never was sent to any school, I was always sick. 11 Although Massachusetts ranked then, as it does now, first in point of educational facili- ties, it is certainly remarkable that the woman received such entire neglect. <; It is not impossible, 11 adds Mr. A.dams, " that the early example of Mrs. Hutchison, and the difficulties in which the public exercise of her gifts involved the Colony, had established in the pub- lic mind a conviction of the danger that may attend the meddling of women with abstruse points of doc- trine ; and these, however they might confound the strongest intellects, were nevertheless the favorite topics of thought and discussion in that generation. 11 While the sons of a family received every possible advantage compatible with the means of the father, the daughter's interest, as far as mental development was concerned, was ignored. To aid the mother in manual household labor, and by self-denial and in- LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. - 63 creased industry to forward the welfare of the brothers, was the most exalted height to which any woman as- pired. To woman there was then no career open, no life-work' to perform outside the narrow walls of home. Every idea of self-culture was swallowed up in the wearying routine of practical life, and what of knowl- edge they obtained, was from the society of the learned, and the eagerness with which they treasured and considered the conversations of others. On the 26th of October, 1764, Abigail Smith was married to John Adams. She was at the time twenty years old. The match, although a suitable one in many respects, was not considered brilliant, since her ancestors were among the most noted of the best class of their day, and he was the son of a farmer of limited means, and as yet a lawyer without practice. " Mrs. Adams was the second of three daughters, whose char- acters were alike stronsr and remarkable for their intellectual force. The fortunes of two of them con- fined its influence to a sphere much more limited than that which fell to the lot of Mrs. Adams. Mary, the eldest, was married in 1762 to Eichard Cranch, an English emigrant, who subsequently became a Judge of the Court of Common Pleas in Massachusetts. Elizabeth, the youngest, was twice married ; first to the Reverend John Shaw, minister of Haverhill, and after his death, to the Reverend Mr. Peabody of iS T ew Hamp- shire. 1 ' * * * " In a colony founded so exclusively upon motives of religious zeal as Massachusetts was, it necessarily followed that the ordinary distinctions of society were in a great degree subverted, and that the 64 LADIES 01 THE WHITE HOUSE. ra >f the church, though without worldly posses- sions to boast of, were the most in honor everywhere. If a festive entertainment was meditated, the minister was sure to be first on the list of those invited. If any assembly of citizens was held, he must be there to open the business with prayer. If a political measure '..'. -was among the first whose opinions to be consulted. He was not infrequently the family physician. Hence the objection to Mr. Adams by her friends was founded on the fact that she was laughter and grand-daughter of a minister, and :'.;.". superior according to the opinions of zealous . whose prejudices were extreme toward a calling they deemed hardly hoi Ten : quiet home life succeeded her mar- riage ring which time little trans] ired worthy of record. i; She appears to have passed an apparently life, having her residence in Braintree, or in Boston, according as the state of her husband's health, then rather impaired, or that of his professional practice, made the change advisable. Within this period she became the mother of a daughter and of thre "Mi A ams was fleeted one of the delegates on the part of Massachi i 1 to meet persons cho- :n the same manner from the other Colonies, for the r .: ~:- of consulting in common upon the course most advisable to be adopted by them.*' In the month of August, 1774, he left home in company with Sam- uel Adams, Thomas Cushings, and Robert Treat Paine, i > Philadelphia, at which place the proposed LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 65 assembly was to be held." In two months, Mr. Adams was home again. Congress met again in May, 1775. and Mr. Adams returned to Philadelphia to attend it. The long distance was traversed on horseback, and was replete with hardships. At Hartford he heard of the memorable incident at Lexington, only five days after his departure from Braintree. Up to this time, the trouble between the two countries had been a dis- pute, henceforth it resolved itself into open hostilities. "In November, 1775,"' says Bancroft, ''Abigail Smith, the wife of John Adams, was at her home near the foot of Penn Hill, charged with the sole care of their little brood of children ; managing their farm ; keeping house with frugality, though opening her doors to the houseless, and giving with good will a part of her scant portion to the poor ; seeking work for her own hands, and ever busily occupied, now at the spinning wheel, now making amends for having never been sent to school by learning French, though with the aid of books alone. Since the departure of her husband for Con- gress, the arrow of death had sped near her by day, and the pestilence that walks in darkness had entered her humble mansion. She herself was still weak after a violent illness ; her house was a hospital in every part ; and such was the distress of the neighborhood, she could hardly find a well person to assist in looking after the sick. Her youngest son had been rescued from the grave by her nursing. Her own mother had been taken away, and after the austere manner of her forefathers, buried without prayer. TVoe followed woe, and one affliction trod on the heels of another. 5 66 LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE. Winter was hurrying on ; during the day family af- fairs took off her attention, but her long evenings, broken by the sound of the storm on the ocean, or the enemy's artillery at Boston, were lonesome and melan- choly. Ever in the silent night ruminating on the love and tenderness of her departed parent, she need- ed the consolation of her husband's presence ; but when she read the king's proclamation, she willingly gave up her nearest friend exclusively to his perilous duties, and sent him her cheering message : ' : This in- telligence will make a plain path for yon, thougli a dangerous one. I could not join to-day in the petitions of our worty pastor for a reconciliation between our uo longer parent state, but tyrant state and these colonies. Let us separate ; they are unworthy to be our brethren. Let us renounce them ; and instead of supplications, as formerly, for their prosperity and happiness, let us beseech the Almighty to blast their counsels and bring to naught all their devices." Such, words of patriotism falling from the lips of a woman who had just buried three members of her household, one her own mother, and who was alone with her four little children within sight of the can- nonading at Boston, discovers a mind strong, and a S] iiit fearless and brave under scenes of harrowing distress. Now she was alone, and she -writes to her husband, " the desolation of war is not so distressing: as the havoc made by the pestilence. Some poor parents are mourning the loss of three, four, and five children. ?ome families are wholly stripped of every mem- LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. G7 ber." December found Mr. Adams once more at home to cheer his suffering family, but Congress demanded his presence, and after a stay of one month, he re* turned again to the halls of the nation. March came, and her anxious solitary life was in no wise brightened. The distance, in those days of slow travel and bad roads, from Boston to Philadelphia was immense, and letters were precious articles liard to receive. In speaking of the anticipated attack on Boston, she says : " It has been said to-morrow and to-morrow ; but when the dreadful to-morrow will be I know not." Yet even as she wrote, the first peal of the American guns rang out their dissonance on the chilling night winds, and the house shook and trembled from cellar to garret. It was no time for calm thoughts now, and she left her letter unfinished to go out and watch the lurid lights that flashed and disappeared in the dis- tance. Next morning she walked to Penn's Hill, where she sat listening to the amazing roar, and watch- ing the British shells as they fell round about the camps of her friends. Her home at the foot of the hill was all her earthly wealth, and the careful hus- banding of each years' crop her only income ; yet while she ever and anon cast her eye upOn it, the thoughts that welled into words were not of selfish repinings, but of proud expressions of high-souled patriotism. "The cannonade is from our army," she continues, " and the sight is one of the grandest in nature, and is of the true species of the sublime. 'Tis now an in- cessant roar. To-night we shall realize a more terrible scene still ; I wish myself with you out of hearing, as 68 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. I cannot assist them, but I hope to give you joy of Boston, even if it is in ruins before I send this away." But events were not ordered as she feared, and the result was more glorious than she dared hope. Al 1 the summer the army lay encamped around Boston, and in early Fall her husband came home again, after an absence of nearly a year. Yet his coming brought her no joy, since it was to announce the sad truth that he had been chosen to go to France. Could he take his wife and little ones, was the oft-recurring question. A small and not very good vessel had been ordered to take him, the British fleet knew this, and were on the watch to capture it. On every account it was deemed best he should go alone, but concluded to take his eldest son, John Quincy Adams, to bear him company, and in February, 1T7S, sailed for Europe. The loneliness of the faithful wife can hardly be understood by those unacquainted with the horrors of war. Yet I ween there are many, very many, who in the dark gloom of the past strife can record similar feelings of agony, and can trace a parallel in the soli- tary musings of this brave matron. The ordinary occupations of the female sex have ever confined them to a very limited sphere, and there is seldom an <: sion when they can with propriety extend their exer- tions beyond the domestic hearth. " Only through the imagination can she give unlimited scope to those powers which the world until recently has never understood, and which are even now but dimly de- nned." Had mankind given her the privileges of a liberal education, and freedom to carve her own des- LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 69 tiny, to what dazzling heights would a mind so natu- rally gifted as Mrs. Adams have attained ? Circuni. scribed a3 her lot was, she has left upon the pages of history an enviable record, and while Americans forget not to do honor to her husband's zeal and greatness, her memory lends a richer perfume, and sheds a radiance round the incidents of a life upon which she wielded so beneficial an influence. Ofttimes weather-bound and compelled to remain in- doors for days, with no society save her children and domestics, it is not strange that she should be lonely. Nor could her mind dwell upon any pleasing anticipa- tions for the future. Her husband three thousand miles away, a hostile army encompassing the country, poor and forlorn, she yet so managed and controlled her little*estate, that it served to support her, and in old age, to prove the happy asylum of her honored family. Mr. Adams knew her exposed condition, yet trusted to her judgment to protect herself and little ones. On a former occasion he had written to her a in case of dauger to fly to the woods," and now he could only reiterate the same advice, at the same time feeling that she was strong and resolute to sustain herself. Six months passed, and Mrs. Adams writes to him, " I have never received a syllable from you or my dear son, and it is five months since I had an oppor- tunity of conveying a line to you. * * * Yet I know not but you are less a sufferer than you would be to hear from us, to know our distresses, and yet be un- able to relieve them. The universal cry for bread to a hu- mane heart is painful beyond description." Mr. Adams 70 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. returned to Lis family after an absence of eighteen months, but no sooner was he established in his happy home, than he was ordered to Great Britain to nego- tiate a peace. Two of his sons accompanied him on this trip. He went over night to Boston to embark early next day, and the sad heart left behind again, found re- lief in the following touching words : u My habitation, how disconsolate it looks ! my table, I sit down to it, but cannot swallow my food ! Oh, why was I born with so much sensibility, and why possessing it have I so often been called to struggle with it ? Were I sure you would not be gone, I could not withstand the tempta- tion of coming to town though my heart would suffer over again the cruel torture of separation." Soon after this time, she wrote to her eldest son in regard to his extreme reluctance at ao*ain crossing the ocean, and for its perspicuity and terseness, for the loftiness of its sentiments, and the sound logical advice in which it abounds, ranks itself amoD? the first literary effusions of the century : " Jnxx. 1778. u My Deae Sox:. Tis almost four months since you left your native land" and embarked udon the mighty waters in quest of a foreign country. Al- though I have not particularly written to you since, yet you may be assured you have constantly been upon my heart and mind. " It is a very difficult task, my dear son, for a tender parent, to bring her mind to j>art with a child of your years, going to a distant land ; nor could I have ao LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 71 quiesced in sucli a separation under any other care than that of the most excellent parent and guardian who accompanied you. You have arrived at year.:. capable of improving under the advantages you will be likely to have, if you do but properly attend to them. They are talents put into your hands, of which an account will be required of you hereafter ; and, being possessed of one, two, or four, see to it that you double your number. " The most amiable and most useful disposition in a young mind is diffidence of itself; and this should lead you to seek advice and instruction from him who is your natural guardian, and will always counsel and direct you in the best manner, both for your present and future happiness. You are in possession of a natural good understanding, and of spirits unbroken by adversity and untamed with care. Improve your understanding by acquiring useful knowledge and vir- tue, such as will render you an ornament to society, an honor to your country, and a blessing to your parents. Great learning and superior abilities, should you ever possess them, w T ill be of little value and small estimation, unless virtue, honor, truth, and in- tegrity are added to them. Adhere to those religious sentiments and principles which were early instilled into your mind, and remember that you are account- able to your Maker for all your words and actions. Let me enjoin it upon you to attend constantly and steadfastly to the precepts and instructions of your father, as you value the happiness of your mother and your own welfare. His care and attention to you ren- 7~ LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. der many things unnecessary for ine to write, wliicli I might otherwise do ; but the inadvertency and heed- lessness of youth require line upon line and precept upon precept, and, when enforced by the joint efforts of both parents, will, I hope, have a due innuence upon your conduct ; for, dear as you are to nie, I would much rather you should have found your grave in the ocean you have crossed, or that any untimely h crop you in your infant years, than see you an immoral, profligate, or graceless child. " You have entered early in life upon the great theatre of the world, which is full of temptations and vice of eveiy hind. You are not wholly unacquaint- ed with history, in which you have read of crimes which your inexperienced mind could scarcely believe credible. Yon have been taught to think of them with horror, and to view vice as • A monster of bo frightful mien, That, to be hated, needs but to be seen.' Yet you must, keep a strict guard upon yourself, or the odious monster will lose its terror by becoming familiar to you. The modern history of our own times furnishes as black a list of crimes as can be paralleled in ancient times, even if we go back to . :>, Caligula, Caesar Borgia. Young as you are, the cruel war into which we have been compelled by the haughty : of Britain and the bloody emissaries of his vengeance, may stamp upon your mind this cer- tain jb ;:;h, that the welfare and prosperity of all coun- tries, communities, and, I may add, individuals, de- LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 73 pend upon their morals. That nation to which we were once united, as it has departed from justice, eluded and subverted the wise laws which formerly governed it, and suffered the worst of crimes to go unpunished, has lost its valor, wisdom, and humanity, and, from being the dread and terror of Europe, has sunk into derision and infamy. " But, to quit political subjects, I have been great- ly anxious for your safety, having never heard of the frigate since she sailed, till, about a week ago, a New York paper informed that she was taken and carried into Plymouth. I did not fully credit this report, though it gave me much uneasiness. I yesterday beard that a French vessel was arrived at Portsmouth, which brought news of the safe arrival of the Boston ; but this wants confirmation. I hope it will not be long before I shall be assured of your safety. You must write me an account of your voyage, of your situation, and of every thing entertaining you can recollect. " Be assured, I am most affectionately " Your mother, Abigail Adams." But it was destined to have no reply, and for a year and a half she heard nothing of her boy. He had gone with Mr. Francis Dana to Kussia as his private secre- tary, and the years that rolled away ere she again met him, were accounted the saddest of her checkered life. One other son she felt was safe with his father ; but there came a person with tidings which filled her soul with apprehensions. At Corunna a young boy 74 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. was pointed out to Mm as the son of Mr. Adatns, and this was all. Cruel suspense kept her wretched for weary days, for if there, he was on his way home ; and the fearful imageries she was ever conjuring up in her brain, unfitted her for that patient waiting she was forced to endure. The thoughts of her little child alone, or under the care of some indifferent stranger, on board a miserable ship in mid-ocean, was harrow- ing, and not until he was safe at last with her could she be composed. Three years passed quietly in the modest home at Braintree, and sadly to the American Minister, who grew dispirited at the wearying pro- cesses of forming treaties and alliances, but no bright ray intervened to cheer the long-divided friends. She says : " I feel unable to sustain even the idea thai it will be half that period ere we meet again. Could we live to the aire of the antediluvians, we might bet- ter support this separation ; but when threescore years and ten circumscribe the life of man, how painful is the idea that of that short space only a few years of social happiness are our allotted portion." The un- certainty of Mr. Adams' return, and the many reasons given for his probable residence abroad many years, together with the desire of Mrs. Adams' life, to be once again with her husband, induced her .to make up her mind to go to him. But winter had come, and she dared not undertake alone a voyage so fraught with hardships. She looked upon her children, and her heart wavered ; her father's words rang in her ears, " You must never go, child, whilst I live," and she hushed the cry of her own heart, and walked for ward patiently and hopefully. LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 75 Mr. Dana, who had gone with Mr. Adams as pri vate secretary, and afterward been sent to Russia as Minister, returned home. She writes : " While I was in town, Mr. Dana arrived very unexpectedly, for I had not received your letters by Mr. Thaxter. My uncle discovered him as he came up State street, and instantly engaged him to dine with him, acquainting him that I was in town, and at his house. The news soon reached my ears, ' Mr. Dana arrived ! Mr. Dana arrived ! ' from every person you saw ; but how was I affected ? The tears involuntarily flowed from my eyes. Though God is my witness, I envied not the felicity of others ; yet my heart swelled with grief, and the idea that I — I only — was left alone, recalled all the tender scenes of separation, and overcame ail my fortitude. I retired, and reasoned myself into composure sufficient to see him without childish emo- tion." The long, monotonous winter passed, and when the warm spring days came, the self-reliant wife was ready for her journey. Business all arranged ; her sons with relatives ; house closed, and she with her daughter ready to bid adieu to the many friends who crowded around her. There was nothing now to bind her to her native land. The one strong tie which held her was dis- solved. No fears now of leaving her father to suffer in his old ao-e ; no anxieties lest he should mourn and repine at parting. He was laid beside the mother she so loved, and when she left the shores of her native land, he had gone home, and the grass was beginning to grow upon his new-made grave. 76 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE* Accompanied by her only daughter, she sailed ill the ship " Active. 1 ' Her journal at sea" is so interesting, that detached portions are quoted. " I have been sixteen days at sea, and have not attempted to write a single letter. 'Tis true, I have kept a journal whenever I was able ; but that must be close locked up, unless I was sure to hand it you with safety. 'Tis said of the Roman Censor, that one of the three things which he regretted during his life was, going once by sea when he might have made his journey by land. I fancy the philosopher was not proof against that most disheartening, dispiriting mal- ady, sea-sickness. Of this I am very sure, that no lady would ever wish a second time to try the sea, were the objects of her pursuit within the reach of a land journey. I have had frequent occasions, since I came on board, to recollect an observation of my best friend's, that ' no beans in nature was so disagreeable as a lady at sea,' and this recollection has, in a great measure, reconciled me to the thought of being at sea without him ; for one would not wish, my dear sister, to be thought of in that light by those to whom we would wish to appear in our best array. The decency and decorum of the most delicate female must, in some measure, yield to the necessities of nature ; and if you have no female capable of rendering you the least assistance, you will feel grateful^to any one who will feel for you, and relieve or compassionate your sufferings. And this was truly the case of your poor sister and all her female companions, when not one of us could make her own bed, put on or take off her LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 77 shoes, or even lift a finder. As to our other clothing, we wore the greater part of it until we were able to help ourselves. " Added to this misfortune, Briesler, my man-ser- vant, was as bad as any of us. * * * Our sick- ness continued for ten days, with some intermission. We crawled upon deck whenever we were able, but it was so cold and damp that we could not remain long upon it ; and the confinement of the air below, the constant rolling of the vessel, and the nausea of the ship, wmich was much too tight, contributed to keep up our disease. The vessel is very deep-loaded with oil and potash. The oil leaks, the potash smokes and ferments. All adds to the flavor. When you add to all this the horrid dirtiness of the ship, the slovenliness of the steward, and the unavoidable slop- ping and spilling occasioned by the tossing of the ship, I am sure you will be thankful that the pen is not in the hand of Swift or Smollet, and still more so that you are far removed from the scene. •* * ■*:- -::- * * " 'Tis not a little attention that we ladies stand in need of at sea ; for it is not once in the twenty-four hours that we can cross the cabin without being held or assisted. Nor can we go upon deck without the assistance of two gentlemen ; and, when there, we are always bound into our chairs. Whilst you, I imagine, are scorching under the midsummer heat, we can com- fortably bear our double calico gowns, our baize ones upon them, and a cloth cloak in addition to all these. ****** 7^ LADIES OF THE "WHITE HOUSE. " As to wind and weather since we came out, thev have "been very fortunate for us in general. We have had ; aim days, and two days contrary winds — ■ with a storm. I called it ; "but the sailors say it was only a breeze. This was upon the hanks of New- foundland, the wind at east ; through the day we could not sit in our chairs, only as some gentleman sat by us with his arm fastened into ours, and his feet •d against a table or chair that was lashed down with ropes; bottles, mugs, plates, crashing to pieces, :>n one side and then on the other ; the sea run- ning mountain-high, and knocking against the sides of the vessel as thousrh it would burst them. When I became so fatigued with the incessant motion as not to be able to sit any longer, I was assisted into my in, where I was obliged to hold myself in with all might the remainder of the night, Xo person who is a stranger to the sea can form an adequate idea of the debility occasioned by sea-sickness. The hard rocking of a ship in a storm, and the want of sleep for many nights, altogether reduce one to such a lassi- tude that you care little for your fate. The old sea- men thought nothing of all this, nor once entertained an i lea of danger. Compared to what they have suf- fered, I do suppose it was trifling ; bnt to me it was i ming, and I most heartily prayed, if this was on]y a breeze, to be delivered from a storm. If the wind and weather continue as favorable as they have hith- erto been, we expect to make our passage in thirty . which is going a hundred miles a day. 'Tis a :■: of ocean which we have to traverse. I LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE. 79 have contemplated it with its various appearances. It is, indeed, a secret world of wonders, and one of the sublimest objects in nature. " ' Thou mak'st the foaming billovrs roar, Thou rnak'st the roaring billows sleep.' They proclaim the Deity, and are objects too vast fo] the control of feeble man. That Beins; alone who ' maketk the clouds His chariots, and rideth upon the wings of the wind,' is equal to the government of this stupendous part of creation." " 7th July, 1784. " If I did not write every day, I should lose the days of the month and of the week ; confined all day on account of the weather, which is foggy, misty, and wet. You can hardly judge how irksome this confine- ment is. When, the whole ship is at our service, it is little better than a prison. We suppose ourselves near the Western Isles. O dear variety ! how pleas- ing: to the human mind is change ! I cannot find such a fund of entertainments within myself as not to re- quire outward objects for my amusement. Nature abounds with variety, and the. mind, unless fixed down by habit, delights in contemplating new objects ; and the variety of scenes which present themselves to the senses were entirely designed to prevent our attention from being too long fixed upon any one object. ' This,' says a late celebrated medical writer, ' greatly con- duces to the health of the animal frame. Your studi- ous people and your deep thinkers,' he observes, l sel- dom enjoy either health or spirits.' SO LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. " I went, last evening, upon deck, at the invita- tion of Mr. Foster, to view the phenomenon of na- ture, a blazing ocean. A light flame spreads over the ocean, in appearance with thousands of thousands of sparkling gems, resembling our fire-flies in a dark night. It has a most beautiful appearance. I never view the ocean without being filled with ideas of the sublime. " Monday we had a fair w T ind, but too much to be able to write, as it was right aft, and we pitched ex- ceedingly, which is a motion more disagreeable to me than the rocking, though less fatiguing. On Tuesday a calm. Should you not suppose that in a calm we at least had the satisfaction of lying still ? Alas ! it fe far otherwise, as my flesh and bones wutness ; a calm generally succeeds a storm or a fresh breeze ; the sea has a great swell after the wind is silent, so that the ship lies entirely at the mercy of the waves, and is knocked from side to side with a force you can form no idea of wuthout experience. I have been more wearied and worn out with the motion and exercise of a calm, than in riding fifty miles in a day. We have had three days in succession nearly calm ; the first is the most troublesome, as the motion of the sea subsides in a degree. It is, however, a great trial of one's patience to think yourself within a few days of your desired spot, to look at it as the promised land, and yet to be held fast. " ' Yc too, ye •winds, I raise my voice to you. In what far-clistant region of the sky, Hushed in deep silence, sleep you when 'ti3 calm ? ' LADIES Or THE WHITE HOUSE. 81 u I begin to think that a calm is not desirable in any situation in life. Every object is most beautiful in motion ; a ship under sail, trees gently agitated with the wind, and a fine woman dancing, are three instances in point. Man was made for action, and for bustle, too, I believe. I am quite out of conceit with calms. I have more reason for it, too, than many oth ers, for the dampness of the ship has for several days threatened me with the rheumatism ; and yesterday morning I was seized with it in good earnest. I could not raise my head, nor get out of bed without assistance. I had a good deal of fever, and was very sick. I was fearful of this before I came to sea, and had proper medicine put up, which the doctor admin- istered. What with that, good nursing, and rubbing, flannel, &c, I am able, to-day, to sit up in my bed and write, as you see. To-day we have a small wind, but 'tis right ahead. This is still mortifying, but what we had reason to expect. " We have but one passenger whom we should have been willing to have been without ; I have no particu- lar reason to dislike him as he is studiously complai- sant to me ; but I know his politeness to me is not personally upon my own account, but because of my connection which gives me importance sufficient to entitle me to his notice. Abby says he is exactly such a character as Mr. A . I really think there is a striking resemblance. He was always inquiring, 4 Who was such a general ? What was his origin and rank in life ? ' I have felt a disposition to quarrel with him several times, but have restrained myself, B2 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. and only observed to him, mildly, that merit, not ti- tle, gave a man preeminence in our country ; that I did not doubt it was a mortifvin^ circumstance to the British nobility to find themselves sd often conquered by mechanics and mere husbandmen ; but that we esteemed it our glory to draw such characters not only into the field, but into the Senate ; and I believe no one would deny they had shone in both. All our passengers en- 1 this conversation, and the gentleman was civil enough to drop the subject ; but the venom spits out very often ; yet the creature is sensible and entertain- ing when upon indifferent subjects. He is a haughty Scotchman ; he hates the French, and upon all occa- sions ridicules them and their country. I fancy, from his haughty airs, that his own rank in life has not been superior to those whom he affects to despise. He is not a man of liberal sentiments, and is less beloved than any passenger we have on board. A man's humor contributes much to the making him agreeable or otherwise. Dark and sour humors, especially those who have a spice of malevolence in them, are vastly disagreeable. Such men have no music in their souls. I believe he would hardly be so complaisant, if he knew how meanlv I thought of him, but he deserves it all ; his whole countenance shows his heart. "Heaven be praised, I have safely landed upon the British coast. How flattering, how smooth the ocean, how delightful was Sunday, the 15th of July. We flattered ourselves with the prospect of a gentle breeze to carry ns on shore at Portsmouth, where we agreed to land, as going up the channel always proves tediou- ; LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE. 83 but on Sunday night the wind shifted to the south west, which, upon this coast, is the same with our north-east winds. It blew a gale on Sunday night, on Monday and Monday night, equal to an equinoctial. We were obliged to carry double-reefed top-sails only, and what added to our misfortune, was that though we had made land the day before, it was so thick thai we could not certainly determine what land it was. It is now Tuesday, and I have slept only four hours since Saturday night, such was the tossing and tum- bling on board our ship. The Captain never left the deck the whole time either to eat or sleep, though they told me there was no danger ; nor do I suppose that there really was any, as we had sea-room enough. Yet the great number of vessels constantly coming out of the channel, and the apprehensions of being run down, or being nearer land than we imagined, kept me constantly agitated. * * * The Captain came to anchor with his ship in the Downs, and the little town of Deal lay before us. Some of the gentlemen talked of going on shore with the pilot- boat, and sending for us if the wind subsided. The boat was about as large as a Charlestown ferry-boat, and the distance from the ship about twice as far as from Boston to Charlestown ; a shore as bold as Nas- tasket's beach ; no wharf, but you must be run right on shore by a wave, where a number of men stand to catch hold of the boat and pull it up. The surf ran six feet high, but this we did not know until driven on by a wave ; for the pilots, eager to get money, as- sured the gentlemen they could land us safely without 84 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. our being wet, and as we saw no prospect of its be« ing better through the day, we accordingly agreed to go. We were wrapped up and lowered from the ship into the boat ; the whole ship's crew eager to assist us ; the gentlemen attentive and kind as though we were all brothers and sisters. We have spent a month to- gether and were as happy as the sea would permit us to be. " We set off from the vessel, now mounting upon the top of a wave high as a steeple, and then so low that the boat was not to be seen. I could keep myself up no other way than as one of the gentlemen stood braced up against the boat, having fast hold of me, and I with both my arms round him ; the other ladies were held in the same manner, whilst every wave gave us a broadside, and finally a wave landed us with the utmost force upon the beach, the broad side of the boat right against the shore, which was owing to the bad management of the men, and the high -sea. We consequently all pressed upon the side next the shore, to get out as quick as possible, which we need not have done, if we had known what I afterward found to be the case : that it was the only way in which we could be landed, and not, as I at first supposed, owing to the bad management of the boatmen. We should have sat still for a succession of waves to have carried us up higher, but the roar of them terrified us all, and we expected the next would fill our boat; so out we sprang, as fast as possible, sinking every step into the sand, and looking like a parcel of naiads, just rising from the sea. A public house was fortunately just at LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. S5 hand, into which we thankfully entered, changed out clothing, dried, ourselves, and not being able to pro cure carriages that day, we engaged them for six o'clock the next morning, and. took lodgings there all of us, ten in number/' Mrs. Adarns reached London the twenty-third of July, 1784. "My first inquiry," she says, "was for Mr. Adams. I found that my son had been a month waiting for my arrival, expecting me with Callaghen, but that upon getting letters by him, he returned to the Hague." Her son retraced his steps at once to London, and when he presented himself, his mother and sister could scarcely convince themselves that he was the same, " his eyes only appearing," says his mother, u what he once was." It was the first time she had seen him in six years, and he had grown out of all infantine appearance. Meeting her husband, Mr?. Adams and her two children proceeded with him to Paris, and established themselves at Auteuil, a small village adjoining Passi, the residence of Doctor Frank- liu. One year the long severed family remained at this beautiful retreat, and then took up their residence iu London, Mr. Adams having been appointed minis- ter to that government. Mrs. Adams found herself, at the age of forty, suddenly transplanted into a scene wholly new. From a life of the utmost retirement, in a small and quiet country town of Xew England, she was at once thrown into the busy and bustling scenes of the populous and wealthy cities of Europe. Not only was her position novel to herself, but there had been nothing like it among her countrywomen. 86 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. She was the first representative of her sex from the United States at the court of Great Britain. The im- pressions made upon her mind were, therefore, received when it was uncommonly open and free from ordinary restraints, which an established routine of precedents is apt to create. Her residence in France during the first year of her European experience, appears to have "been much enjoyed, notwithstanding the embarrass- ment felt by her from not speaking the language. That in England, which lasted three years, was some- what affected by the temper of the sovereign : George and his queen could not get over the mortification at tending the loss of the American Colonies, nor at all times suppress the manifestation of it, when the pres- ence of their minister forced the subject on their recol- lection. An extract from a letter describing her pre- sentation to the court is too characteristic to be passed over. " The ceremony of presentation here is considered as indispensable. There are four minister-plenipoten- tiaries 1 ladies here, but one ambassador, and he has no lady. One is obliged here to attend the circles of the queen, which are held in summer once a fortnight, but once a week the rest of the year ; and what renders it exceedingly expensive is, that you cannot go twice the same season in the same dress, and a court dress you cannot make use of anywhere else. I directed my mantua-maker to let my dress be elegant, but plain as I could possibly appear with decency ; accordingly it is white lutestring, covered and full trimmed with white crape, festooned with lilac ribbon and mock point lace. LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 87 over a hoop of enormous extent. * * * At two o'clock we went to the circle, which is in the drawing- room of the queen. We passed through several apart- ments, lined as usual with spectators upon these occa sions. As I passed into the drawing-room, Lord Car- marthen and Sir Clement Cotterel Dormer were present- ed to me. The Swedish and Polish ministers made their compliments, and several other gentlemen ; but not a single lady did I know until the Countess of Effing- ham came, who was very civil. There were three young ladie3, daughters of the Marquis of Lothian, who were to be presented at the same time, and two brides. We were placed in a circle round the drawing-room, which was very full, I believe two hundred persons present. Only think of the task. The royal family have to go round to every person, and find small talk enough to speak to all of them, though they very pru- dently speak in a whisper, so that only the person who stands next you can hear what is said. The king en- ters the room, and goes round to the right ; the queen and the princesses, to the left. The lord-in-waiting pre- sents you to the king ; and the lady-in-waiting does the same to her majesty. The king is a personable man • but, my dear sister, he has a certain countenance, which you and I have often remarked : a red face and white eyebrows. The queen has a similar countenance ; and the numerous royal family confirm the observation. Persons are not placed according to their rank in the drawing-room, but promiscuously ; and when the king comes in, he takes persons as they stand. When he came to me, Lord Onslow said, ' Mrs. Adams ; ' upon 88 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. which I drew off my right-hand glove, and his Majesty saluted my left cheek ; then asked me if I had taken a walk to-day. I could have told his Majesty that I had been all the morning preparing to wait upon him; but I replied, ' No, Sire.' ' Why, don't you love walking ? ' savs he. I answered, that I was rather indolent in that respect. He then bowed and passed on. "It was more than two hours after this before it came to my turn to be presented to the queen. The circle was so large that the company were four hours standing. The queen was evidently embarrassed when I was presented to her. I had disagreeable feelings, too. She, however, said, ' Mrs. Adams, have you got into your house ? Pray, how do you like the situation of it?' whilst the Princess Royal looked compassionate, and asked me if I was not much fatigued; and ob- served that it was a very full drawing-room. Her sis- ter, who came next, Princess Augusta, after having asked your niece if she was ever in England before, and her answering ' yes, 1 inquired of me how long ago, and supposed it was when she was very young. And all this is said with much affability, and the ease and freedom of old acquaintance. The manner in which they make their tour round the room is, first, the queen, the lady-in-waiting behind her, holding up her train; next to her, the Princess Royal ; after her Princess Au- gusta, and their lady-in-waiting behind them. They are pretty rather than beautiful, well-shaped, with fair complexions, and a tincture of the king's countenance. u The two sisters look much alike : they were both dressed in black and silver silk, with a silver netting LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 89 upon the coat, and their heads full of diamond pins The queen was in purple and silver. She is not well- shaped nor handsome. As to the ladies of the court, rank and title may compensate for want of personal charms ; but they are, in general, very plain, ill-shaped, and offTy." The subsequent conduct of the queen was hardly as good as on this first occasion, and Mi's. Adams ap- pears never to have forgotten it, for, at a much later period, when, in consequence of the French Revolu- tion, the throne of England was thought to be in dan- ger, she writes to her daughter with regret at the prospect for the country, but without sympathy for the queen. " Humiliation for Charlotte, 1 ' she says, "is no sorrow for me ; she richly deserves her full portion for the contempt and scorn which she took pains to discover." Mrs. Adams' penetrating eye and discerning mind protected her against the fault so fashionable now, of preferring foreign luxuries and elegancies, to her more humble home in the United States, and she writes to her sister, that she should quit Europe with more pleasure than she came into it, uncontaminated, she says, witli its vices and manners. " I have learned,* 1 she continues, "to know the world and its value; I have seen high life ; I have witnessed the luxury and pomp of state, the power of riches and the influence of titles, and have beheld all ranks bow before them as the only shrine worthy of worship. Xotwithstand- ing this, I feel that I can return to my little cottage, and be happier than here ; and, if we have not wealth, 90 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. we Lave what is "better — integrity. As to the ladies of this country, their manners appear to be totally de- praved. It is in the middle ranks of society that vir- tue and morality are yet to be found. Nothing does more injury to the female character than frequenting public places; and the rage which prevails now for the watering-places, and the increased number of them, are become a national evil, as they promote and en- courage dissipation, mix all characters promiscuously, and are the resort of the most unprincipled female characters who are not ashamed to show their faces wherever men dare to go. Modesty and diffidence are called ill-breedinsr and ignorance of the world : an CD CD 7 impudent stare is substituted in lieu of that modest deportment and that retiring grace which awes while it enchants. "To derive a proper improvement from company, it ought to be select, and to consist of persons respec- table both for their morals and their understanding : but such is the prevailing taste, that provided you can be in a crowd, with here and there a glittering star, it is considered of little importance what the character of the person is who wears it. "Few consider that the foundation-stone and the pillar on which they erect the fabric of their felicity, must be in their own hearts, otherwise the winds of dissipation will shake it, and the floods of pleasure overwhelm it in ruins. What is the chief end of man? is a subject well worth the investigation of every rational being. What, indeed, is life, or its en- joyment, without settled principles, laudable purposes, LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 91 mental exertions, and internal comfort, that sunshine of tine soul ; and how are these to be acquired in the hum and tumult of the world ? " In the summer of 1788. Mr. Adams requested and received permission to return home. During her ab sence in Europe, Mrs. Adams had resided one year in France and three years in England. She had made several excursions of several days, to visit some of the beautiful scenes and magnificent country seats which abound in England ; and before her return, had, in company with, her husband, visited the scarcely less magnificent scenerv of the Netherlands. In her own country she had from her childhood been accustomed to view and admire the scenery between her native village and Boston, scarcely surpassed for natural beauty by any object upon earth. In France, in Eng- land, in Holland she had seen the highest attainments of art and the most unbounded profusion of wealth lavished to improve and adorn the simple beauties of nature. The Government was organized under its present Constitution in April, 1789, and Mr. Adams w r as elected Vice-President. He established himself in New York, and from there Mrs. Adams writes to her sister, " that she would return to Braintree during the recess of Congress, but the season of the year renders the attempt impracticable." She speaks of the " drawing-rooms " held by Mrs. Washington, and the many invitations she receives to entertainments, but mentions that the health of herself, and the illness of her son deters her from going much into society. Af 92 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. ter a residence of one year in New York, the seat of government was removed to Philadelphia. She says in a letter to her daughter, " that she dined with the President in company with the ministers and ladies of the court," and that " he asked very affectionately after her and the children," and " at the table nicked the sugar plums from a cake and requested me to take them for Master John." In February, 1707, Mr. Adams succeeded President Washington, and from Braintee she wrote one of the most beautiful of all her noble effusions : " The sun is dressed in brightest beams To give thy honors to the day. " And may it prove an auspicious prelude to each ensuing season. You have this day to declare your- self head of a nation. ' And now, O Lord my God, thou hast made thy servant ruler over the people ; give unto him an understanding heart, that he may know how to go out and come in before this great peo- ple ; that he may discern between good and bad. For who is able to judge this thy so great a people : ' were the words of a royal sovereign, and not less applicable to him who is invested with the Chief Magistracy of a nation, though he wear not a crown nor the robes of royalty. My thoughts and my meditations are with you, though personally absent; and my petitions to heaven are that 'the things which make for peace may not be hidden from your eyes.' My feelings are not those of pride or ostentation upon the occasion. They are solemnized by a sense of the obligations, the im- LADIES OF TI1E WHITE HOUSE. 93 portaut trusts, and numerous duties connected with it That you may be enabled to discharge them with honor to yourself, with justice and impartiality to your country, and with satisfaction to this great people, shall be the daily prayer of yours — " Soon as the funeral rites of Mrs. Adams, the ven- erable mother of President Adams, were performed, and the sad leave-takings over, Mrs. Adams set out to join her husband at Philadelphia, from whence the seat of government was removed in June, 1800, to Washington City. Her impression of the place is graphically described in the following letter to her daughter, Mra Smith : "Washington, Novembe' 21st, 1S00. "My Deae Child:— " I arrived here on Sunday last, and without meeting with any accident worth noticing, except losing our- selves when we left Baltimore, and going eight or nine miles on the Frederick road, by which means we were obliged to go the other eight through woods, where we wandered two hours without finding a guide or the path. Fortunately, a straggling black came up with us, and we engaged him as a guide to extricate us out of our difficulty. But woods are all you see from Bal- timore until you reach the city,— which is only so in name. Here and there is a small cot, without a glass window, interspersed amongst the forests, through which you travel miles without seeing any human being. In the city there are buildings enough, if they were com- pact and finished, to accommodate Congress and those 94 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. attached to it ; but as they are, and scattered as they are, I see no great comfort for them. The river, which runs up to Alexandria, is in full view of my window, and I see the vessels as they pass and repass. The house is upon a grand and superb scale, requiring about thirty servants to attend and keep the apartments in proper order, and perform the ordinary business of the house and stables : an establishment very well proportioned to the President's salary. The lighting the apartments, from the kitchen to parlors and chambers, is a tax in- deed ; and the fires we are obliged to keep to secure us from daily agues, is another very cheering comfort. To assist us in this great castle, and render less attendance necessary, bells are wholly wanting, not one single one being hung through the whole house, and promises are all you can obtain. This is so great an inconvenience, r h..: I know not what to do, or how to do. The ladies from Georgetown and in the city have many of them visited me. Yesterday I returned fifteen visits, — but such a place as Georgetown appears, — why our Milton is beautiful. But no comparisons ; — if they will put me up some bells, and let me have wood enough to keep fires, I design to be pleased. I could content myself almost anywhere three months ; but surrounded with forests, can you believe that wood is not to be had, because people cannot be found to cut and cart it ? Briesler entered into a contract with a man to supply him with wood; a small part, a few cords only, has be been able to get. Most of that was expended to dry the walls of the house before we came in, and yesterday the man told hira it was impossible for him LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 95 to procure it to be cut and carted. He has had re- course to coals : but we cannot get grates made and set. We have indeed come into a new country. "You must keep all this to yourself, and when asked liow I like it, say that I write you the situation is beau- tiful, which is true. The house is made habitable, but there is not a single apartment finished, and all within- side, except the plastering, has been done since Bries- ler came. We have not the least fence, yard, or other convenience, without, and the great unfinished au- dience-room I make a drying-room of, to hang up the clothes in. The principal stairs are not up, and will not be this winter. Six chambers are made comfort- able; two are occupied by the President and Mr. Shaw ; two lower rooms, one for a common parlor and one for a levee room. Up-stairs there is the oval room, which is designed for the drawing-room, and has the crimson furniture in it. It is a very handsome room now, but when completed will be beautiful. If the twelve years, in which this place has been considered as the futur# seat of government, had been improved, as they would have been if in New England, very many of the present inconveniences would have been removed. It is a beautiful spot, capable of every im- provement, and the more I view it, the more I am delighted with it. Since I sat down to write, I have been called down to a servant from Mount Vernon, with a billet from Major Custis, and a haunch of veni- son, and a kind, congratulatory letter from Mrs. Lewis, upon my arrival in the city, with Mrs. Washington's love, inviting me to Mount Vernon, where, health per- 96 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. mitting, I will go, before I leave this place. * * * Two articles are much distressed for : the one is bells, but the more important one is wood. Yet you cannot see wood for trees. No arrangement has been made, but by promises never performed, to supply the new- comers with fuel. Of the promises, Briesler ha d re- ceived his full share. He had procured nine cords of wood : between six and seven of that was kindly burnt up to dry the walls of the house, which ought to have been done by the commissioners, but which, if left to them, would have remained undone to this clay. Con- gress poured in, but shiver, shiver. No wood-cutters nor carters to be had at any rate. We are now in- debted to a Pennsylvania waggon to bring us, through the first clerk in the Treasury Office, one cord and a half of wood, which is all we have for this house, where twelve fires are constantly required, and where, we are told, the roads will soon be so bad that it can- not be drawn. Briesler procured two hundred bush- els of coal, or we must have suffered. This is the situ- ation of almost eveiy person. The public officers have sent to Philadelphia for wood-cutters and waggons. " " The vessel which has my clothes and other mat- ter is not arrived. The ladies are impatient for a drawing-room; I have no looking-glasses, but dwarfs, for this house ; nor a twentieth part lamps enough to light it. Many thing3 were stolen, many were broken, by the removal ; amongst the number, my tea-china is more than half missing. Georgetown affords nothing. My rooms are very pleasant, and warm, whilst the doors of the hall are closed. LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 97 " You can scarce believe that here in. this wilder- ness-city, I should find myself so occupied as it is. My visitors, some of them, come three and four miles. The return of one of them is the work of one day Most of the ladies reside in Georgetown, or in scattered parts of the city at two and three miles distance. We have all been very well as yet ; if Ave can by any means get wood, we shall not let our fires go out, but it is at a price indeed ; from four dollars it has risen to nine. Some say it will fall, but there must be more industry than is to be found here to bring half enough to the market for the consumption of the inhabitants." The Hon. John Cotton Smith, a member of Con- gress, from Connecticut, describing Washington as it appeared to him on his arrival there, wrote as fol- lows: " Our approach to the city was accompanied with sensations not easily described. One wing of the Capitol only had been erected, which, with the Presi- dent's House, a mile distant from it, both constructed with white sandstone, were striking objects in dismal contrast with the scene around them. Instead of re- cognizing the avenues and streets portrayed on the plan of the city, not one was visible unless we except a road, with two buildings on each side of it, called the New Jersey Avenue. The Pennsylvania, leading as laid down on paper, from the Capitol to the Presi- dential mansion, was then nearly the whole distance a deep morass, covered with alder bushes, which were cut through the width of the intended Avenue the then ensuing winter. * * * * The roads in every di 7 98 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. rection were muddy and nn improved ; a side-walk was attempted in one instance by a covering formed of the chips of the stones which had been hewed for the Cap- itol. It extended but a little way, and was of little value, for in dry weather the sharp fragments cut our shoes, and in wet weather covered them with whit* mortar ; in short, it was a new settlement. The house-, with two or three exceptions, had been very recently erected, and the operation greatly hurried in view of the approaching transfer of the national government A laughable desire was manifested by what few citi- zens and residents there were, to render our condition as pleasant as circumstances would permit. Notwith- standing the unfavorable aspect which Washington presented on our arrival, I cannot sufficiently express my admiration of its local position. From the Capitol you have a distinct view of its fine, undulating surface, situated at the confluence of the Potomac and its Eastern Branch, the wide expanse of that majestic river to the bend at Mount Vernon, the cities of Alexandria and Georgetown, and the cultivated fields and blue hills of Maryland and Virginia on either side of the river, the whole constituting a prospect of surpassing beauty and grandeur. The city has also the inestima- ble advantage of delightful water, in manv instances flowing from copious spiings, and always attainable by digging to a moderate depth." " Some portions of the city are forty- miles from Baltimore. The situation is indeed beautiful and pleasant. " The President's house was built to be looked at by LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 99 visitors and strangers, and will render its occupants an object of ridicule with some and of pity with others, It must be cold and damp in winter, and cannot be kept in tolerable order without a regiment of servants. There are but few houses at any one place, and most of them small, miserable huts, which present an awful contrast to the public buildings. The people are poor, and as far as I can judge, they live like fishes, by eating each other." The first New-Years reception at the White House was held by President Adams in 1801. The house was only partially furnished, and Mrs. Adams used the oval room up stairs, now the library, as a drawing- room. The formal etiquette established by Mrs. Wash- ington at New York and Philadelphia was kept up in the wilderness-city by Mrs. Adams. At this time the health of Mrs. Adams, which had never been very firm, began decidedly to fail. Her residence at Philadelphia had not been favorable, as it had subjected her to the attack of an intermittent fever, from the effects of which she was never after- wards perfectly free. The desire to enjoy the bracing air of her native climate, as well as to keep together the private property of her husband, upon which she early foresaw that he would be obliged to rely for their support in their last years, prompted her to reside much of her time at Quincy. Thus closed Mrs. Adams 1 life in Washington, which she has given in the preceding letters ; and spring found her once more in her Massachusetts home, recuperat- ing her failing health. She lived in Washington only 100 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. four months — and yet she is inseparably connected with it. She was mistress of the White House less than half a year, but she stamped it with her individu- ality, and none have lived there since who have not looked upon her as the model and guide. It is not asserting too much, to observe that the first occupant of that historic house stands without a rival, and re- ceives a mead of praise awarded to no other American woman. In the midst of public or private troubles, the buoyant spirit of Mrs. Adams never forsook her. " I am a mortal enemy," she wrote upon one occasion to her husband, " to anything but a cheerful countenance and a merry heart, which Solomon tells us does good like a medicine." "This spirit contributed greatly to lift up his heart, when surrounded by difficulties and dan- gers, exposed to open hostility, and secret detraction, and resisting a torrent of invective, such as it may well be doubted whether any other individual in pub- lic station in the United States has ever tried to stem. It was this spirit which soothed his wounded feelings when the country, which he had served in the full con- sciousness of the perfect honesty of his motives, threw him off, and signified its preference for other statesmen. There are oftener, even in this life, more compensations for the severest of the troubles that afflict mankind, than we are apt to think. 1 ' The sacrifices made bv Mrs. Adams durinon : — o 114 LADIES 01 THE WHITE HOUSE. Libertatem. Amicitiam. Fideni Eetinebis. D. O. M. Beneath these walla, Are deposited the mortal remains of JOETC ADAMS. Son of John and Susanna (Boylston) Adams, Second President of the United States, Born £§ October, 1735. On the fourth of July, 1776, He pledged his life, fortune, and sacred honour, To the Independence of his country. On the third of September, 1783, He atfixed his seal to the definitive treaty with Great Britaia, "Which acknowledged that independence, And consummated the redemption of his pledge. On the fonrth of July, 1826, He was summoned To the Independence of Immortality And to the judgment of his God. This house will bear witness to his piety ; This Town, his birth-place, to his munificence ; History to his patriotism ; Posterity to the depth and compass of his mind. At his side, Sleeps, till the trump shall sound, ABIGAIL His beloved and only wife, Daughter of William and Elizabeth, (Quincy) Smith. In every relation of life a pattern of filial, conjugal, maternal, and social virtue. Born Xovember R, 1744 Deceased 28 October, 1818, Aged 74. Married 25 October, 1764. During an union of more than half a century They survived, in harmony of sentiment, principle and affection, The tempests of civil commotion. Meeting undaunted and surmounting The terrors and trials of that revolution, LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 115 Which secured the freedom of their country ; Improved the condition of their times ; And brightened the prospects of futurity To the race of man upon earth. Pilgrim ! From lives thus spent thy earthly duties learn : From fancy's dreams to active virtue turn : Let freedom, friendship, faith, thy soul engage, And serve, like them, thy country and thy age. 116 LADIES OF THE WHITE H0CJ5E. MARTHA JEFFERSON RANDOLPH. lies. Jefferson had been dead nineteen years when, in 1S01. President Jefferson took possession of the White House, and there was strictly speaking no lady of the mansion during: his term. His daughters were with him in Washington only twice during his eight years 1 stay, and he held no formal receptions as are customary now ; and being of the French school of democratic politics, professed a dislike of all cere- monious visitors. On the 1st day of January. 1772. Mr. Jefferson was married to Mrs. Martha Skelton. widow of Batkurst Skelton, and daughter of John Wayles, ''the Forest, v in Charles City County. Mr. Los sing, in his very interesting book of the Revolution, gives a fac-simile of Mr. Jefferson's mar- riage license bond, drawn up in his own handwriting, which the former found in a bundle of old papers in Charles City Court House while searching for records of Revolution events. " Mrs. Skelton was remarkable for her beauty, her accomplishments, and her solid merit. In person she was a little above medium height, slightly but exquisitely formed. Her com- plexion was brilliant — her large expressive eyes of the richest tinge of auburn. She walked, rode, and danced with admirable grace and spirits — sang and played the spinet and harpsichord [the musical instruments of LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 117 the Virginia ladies of that day] with uncommon skill The more solid parts of her education had not been neglected." She was also well read and intelligent conversed agreeably, possessed excellent sense and a lively play of fancy, and had a frank, warm-hearted and somewhat impulsive disposition. She was twenty- three years of age at the time of her second marriage, and had been a widow four years. Her only child she lost in infancy. Tradition, says Randall, has preserved one anecdote of the wooers who sought her hand. It has two render- ings, and the reader may choose between them. The first is that two of Mr. Jefferson's rivals happened to meet on Mrs. Skelton's doorstone. They were shown into a room from which they heard her harpsichord and voice, accompanied by Mr. Jefferson's violin and voice, in the passages of a touching song. They listened for a stanza or two. Whether something in the words, or in the tones of the singers appeared suggestive to them, tradition does not say, but it does aver that they took their hats and retired to return no more on the same errand ! The other, and, we think, less probable version of the story is, that the three met on the door-stone, and agreed that they would " take turns " and that the inter- views should be made decisive ; and that by lot or otherwise Mr. Jefferson led off, and that then during his trial they heard the music that they concluded settled the point. After the Bridal festivities at the Forest, Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson set out for Monticello. and they were destined to meet some not exactly amusing adventures by the way. A manuscript of 118 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. their eldest daughter [Mrs. Kandolph] furnished Mr. Randall by one of her grand daughters and published in his "Life of Jefferson "—says : "They left the forest after a fall of snow, light then, but increasing in depth as they advanced up the country. They were finally obliged to quit the carriage and proceed on horse- back. Having stopped for a short time at Blenheim (the residence of Colonel Carter) where an overseer only resided, they left it at sunset to pursue their way through a mountain track rather than a road, in which the snow lay from eighteen inches to two feet deep, having eight miles to go before reaching Mon- ticello. " They arrived late at night, the fires all out and the servants retired to their own houses for the night. The horrible dreariness of such a house, at the end of such a journey, I have often heard them both relate." " Part of a bottle of wine, found on a shelf behind some books, had to serve the new-married couple both for fire and supper. Tempers too sunny to be ruined by many ten times as serious annoyances in after life, now found but sources of diversion in these ludicrous contre-temps and the " horrible dreariness was lit up with songs, and merriment and laughter." Nine years afterward, Mrs. Jefferson, the mother of five children, was slowly declining, and her husband, refusing a mission to Europe on that account, deter- mined to give up all other duties to soothe and sustain her. She had born her fifth child in November, and when it was two months old, she had fled with it in her arms as Arnold approached Richmond. " The LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 119 British General Tarleton sent troops to capture Gov- ernor Jefferson, who was occupied in securing his most important papers. While thus engaged, his wife and children were sent in a carriage, under the care of a young gentleman who was studying with him, to Colo- nel Coles, fourteen miles distant. Monticello was cap- tured (if a residence occupied by unresisting servants may be said to be captured), and the house searched, though not sacked by the enemy. Many of the ne- groes were taken, and but five ever returned, while many of those left behind sank under the epidemics raging at the time. The house was robbed of nothing save a few articles in the cellar, the farm was stripped of valuable horses, and many thousand dollars' worth of grain and tobacco. " Two faithful slaves, Martin and Caesar, were left in the house and were engaged in secreting plate and other valuables under the floor of the front portico, when McLeod's party arrived. The floor was then of planks. One of these was raised, and Martin stood above handing down articles to Caesar in the cavity. As about the last piece went in, Martin either heard the clang of hoofs, or caught a glimpse of the white coats through the trees, and down went the plank shutting Csesar into the dark hole below. And here he remained eighteen hours without light or food. He was a powerful, determined fellow, six year3 younger than his master, and having been brought up with him, was sufficiently attached to him to have endured fast and darkness for another eighteen hours, rather than make apparent the cause of his concealment/ 120 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. In April, the loss of her infant, together with constant auxiety for the safety of her husband, shattered the remaining strength of Mrs. Jefferson. Toward the close of 1Y81, she rallied. Her last child was born the 8th of May, 1782. Greater apprehensions than usual had preceded the event and they were fatally verified. The delicate constitution was irrevocably sapped. " A momentary hope for her might sometimes flutter in the bosom of her lonely husband, but it was in reality a hope against hope, and he knew it to be so. That association which had been the first joy of his life, which blent itself with all his future visions of happiness, which was to be the crowning glory of that delightful retreat he was forming, and which was to shed mellow radiance over the retirement to which he was fondly looking forward, was now to end ; and it was only a question of weeks, or, possibly, months, how soon it would end. Mrs. Jefferson had returned her husband's affection, with not only the fervor of a woman whose dream of love and pride (for what wo- man is not proud of the world's estimation of her hus- band?) had been more than gratified, but with the idolatrous gratitude of a wife who knew how often that husband had cast away the most tempting honors without a sigh, when her own feeble health had solic- ited his presence and attentions. And now, as the dreadful hour of parting approached, her affection be- came painfully, almost wildly absorbing. The faith- ful daughter of the church had no dread of the here- after, but she yearned to remain with her husband with that yearning which seems to have power to re- LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 12] tard even the approaches of death. Her eyes ever rested on him, ever followed him. "When he spoke, no other sound could reach her ear or attract her at- tention. When she waked from slumber, she looked momentarily alarmed and distressed, and ever ap- peared to be frightened, if the customary form was not bending over her, the customary look upon her. For weeks Mr. Jefferson sat at that bedside, only catching brief intervals of rest." She died on the 6th of Sep- tember. Her eldest daughter, Mrs. Eandolph, thus, many years afterward, recorded her recollections of the sad scene : " He nursed my poor mother in turn with Aunt Carr and her own sister, sitting up with her and adminis-terin": her medicines and drink to the last. For four months that she lingered, he was never out of calling; when not at her bedside he was writing in a small room which opened immediately at the head of her bed. A moment before the closing scene, he was led from the room almost in a state of insensibility by his sister, Mrs. Carr, who, with great difficulty, got him into his library, where he fainted, and remained so long insensible that they feared he never would re- vive. The scene that followed I did not witness, but the violence of his emotion, when almost by stealth I entered his room at night, to this day I dare not trust myself to describe. He kept his room three weeks and I was never a moment from his side. He walked almost incessantly night and day, only lying down oc- casionally, when nature was completely exhausted, on a, pallet that had been brought in during his long faint- ing fit. My aunts remained constantly - with him for 122 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. some weeks, I do not remember how many. When at last he left his room, he rode out, and from that time he was incessantly on horseback, rambling about the mountain, in the least frequented roads, and just as often through the woods. In those melancholy ram- bles. I was his constant companion, a solitary witness to many a violent burst of grief, the remembrance of which has consecrated particular stones of that lost home beyond the power of time to obliterate." The propriety of dwelling upon one who had been dead nineteen years, and whose body had crumbled to dust and sprung to life again in forest leaves and flow- ers, may be questioned ; but when we consider that Mis. Jefferson would have held the position of Ladv of the AVhite House had she lived, and that a knowl- edge of her two daughters can best be gathered by a perusal of her life, this short memoir is deemed not only admissible but proper. It was her fate to die young, and be denied the honors that later in life crowned the brow of her gifted husband. Had she survived, no more pleasant life could have been traced than this gentle, cultivated southerner's. Hers was no passive nature, swayed by every passing breeze, but a loving, strong heart, a rare and gifted intellect, culti- vated by solid educational advantages, experience, and the societv of the greatest statesman and scholar of his day. In the midst of all happiness, vouchsafed to humanity, she died ; and with sincere respect and ad- miration for the talents she possessed, and ihe strength of character she discovered, we honor her sex by por- traying her life. LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 123 Martha Jefferson, after the death of her mother was placed at school in Philadelphia at the age of eleven years, where she remained until her father took her, in 1784, to Europe. u His other two daughters, being too young for such a journey, were left with their maternal aunt, Mrs. Eppes, wife of Francis Eppes, Esquire, of Eppington, Chesterfield County, Virginia. Mary, the second of his surviving children, was six years old, and Lucy Elizabeth, the third, was tw r o years old. The latter died before the close of 1784. The child of sorrow and misfortune, her organization was too frail and too intensely susceptible to last long. Her sensibilities were so precociously acute, that she listened with exquisite pleasure to music, and wept on hearing a false note. After a short period of sight-seeing, Martha Jeffer- son wasplaced at a convent, and continuedto reside there during her father's stay in Europe. In July, 1787, " the long-expected Mary (called Marie in France, and thenceforth through life, Marie) reached London." She had crossed the Atlantic with simply a servant girl, though doubtless they w r ere both intrusted to the charge of some passenger friend, or some known and trusted ship commander, whom we do not find named. They were received by Mrs. Adams, and awaited an expected opportunity of crossing the Channel with a party of French friends of Mr. Jefferson. These con- tinued to defer their return, and Mr. Jefferson became too impatient to await their movements. Accordingly, his steward, the favorite and trusty Petit, w r as sent to London after Marie, and she reached her father's hotel 124 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. in Paris on the 29th of July, just three days before her ninth birthday. Mrs. Adams thus describes her little guest, imme- diately after her departure, in a letter to her sister, Mrs. Cranch, of Massachusetts: U I have had with me for a fortnight a little dau£h ter of Mr. Jefferson's, who arrived here with a youDg negro girl, her servant, from Virginia. Mr. Jefferson wrote me some months ago that he expected them, and desired me to receive them. I did so, and was amply rewarded for my trouble. A finer child of her asre I never saw. So mature an understanding, so womanly a behavior, and so much sensibility, united, are rarely to be met with. I grew so fond of her, and she was so attached to me, that when Mr. Jefferson sent for her, they were obliged to force the little creature away. She is but eight years old. She would sit, sometimes, and describe to me the parting with her aunt, who brought her up, * the obligations she was under to her, and the love she had for her little cousins, till the • tears would stream down her cheeks ; and how I had been her friend, and she loved me. Her papa would break her heart bv making her ero acjain. She clunsr lound 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. 1 ' f Marie, (for so we shall henceforth call her, unless * Mrs. Francis Eppes, of Eppiogton, Va. t Mrs. Adams' Letter--, vol. ii.. p. 179. LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 125 when adopting her fathers sobriquet of Polly) waa soon placed with Martha in the school of the Ab- baye de Panthemont. Martha had now grown into a tall, graceful girl, with that calm, sweet face stamped with thought and earnestness, which, with the traces of many more years on it, and the noble dignity of the matron superadded, beams down from the speaking canvass of Sully. The most dutiful of daughters, the most attentive of learners, possessing a solid understanding, a judgment ripe beyond her years, a most gentle and genial temper, and an unas- suming modesty of demeanor which neither the dis- tinction of her position, nor the flatteries that after- ward surrounded her, ever wore off in the least degree, she was the idol of her father and family, and the de- light of all who knew her. The little Marie has been sufficiently described by Mrs. Adams. " Slighter in person than her sister, she already gave indications of a superior beauty. It was that exquisite beauty possessed by her mother — that beauty which the experienced learn to look upon with dread, because it betrays a physical organization too delicately fine to withstand the rough shocks of the world/' "In April, an incideut of an interesting character occurred in Mr. Jefferson's family. His oldest daugh- ter, as has been seen, had been educated in the views and feelings of the Church of England. Her mother had zealously moulded her young mind in that direc- tion. Her father had done nothing certainly, by word or act to divert it from that channel ; and it had flowed 126 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. on, for aught Martha knew or suspected to the con- trary, with his full approbation. If she had then been called upon to state what were her father's religious beliefs, she would have declared that her impressions were that he leaned to the tenets of the church to which his family belonged. The daring and flippant infidelity now rife in French society, disgusted the earnest, serious, naturally reverential girl. The calm seclusion of Panthemont, its examples of serene and holy life, its intellectual associations, wooed her away from the turmoil and glare and wickedness and erup- tions without. After meditating on the subject for a time, she wrote to her father for his permission to re- main in a convent, and to dedicate herself to the duties of a religious life. For a day or two she received no answer. Then his carriage rolled up to the door of the Abbaye, and poor Martha met her father in a fever of doubts and fears. Never was his smile more benignant and gen- tle. He had a private interview with the Abbess. He then told his daughters he had come for them. They stepped into his carriage, it rolled away, and Marthas school life was ended." Henceforth she was introduced into society, and presided, so far as was ap- propriate to her age, as the mistress of her fathers household. * * *■ Neither he nor Martha ever, after her first letter on the subject, made the remotest allusion to each other to her request to enter a con- vent. She spoke of it freely in after years, to her * This happened April 22d, 1789. LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 127 children, and always expressed her full approbation of her father's course on the occasion. She always spoke of her e&rly wish as rather the dictate of a transient sen timent, than a fixed conviction of religious duty ; and she warmly applauded the quick and gentle way which her father took to lead her back to her family, her friends, and her country. Mr. Jefferson left the shores of Europe with his two daughters the 28th of October, 1789, and the following February Martha was married to Thomas Mann Eandolph, jr., who had been a ward of her father's. M The young people were cousins, and had been attached to each other from childhood. He was tall, lean, with dark, expressive features and a flashing eye, commanding in carriage, elastic as steel, and had that sudden sinewy strength which it would not be difficult to fancy he inherited from the forest monarchs of Virginia." Mr. Jefferson was immediately tendered, and ac- cepted a position in President Washington's cab- inet and made his home in ~New York and after- ward in Philadelphia until his withdrawal from pub- lic life. After President Washington declined a re-appoint- ment, Mr. Adams was elected to fill his place, and Mr. Jefferson the second position in the gift of the nation. In 1801, he was inaugurated President of the United States. His daughter Martha was liviug at her hus- band's country home near Monticello, the mother of several children, and Marie, who had previously mar- ried Mr. Eppes. of Eppington, was happily situated at 12S LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. Monticello awaiting her fathers promised visit in early summer. Sir Augustus Foster, who was Secretary of Leg* tion at Washington to the British Minister, Mr. Merry, has «iven some rather entertaining accounts of the state of society there in the time of Jefferson. M La going to assemblies, one had to drive three or four miles within the city bounds, and very often at the risk of an overturn, or of being what is termed stalled, or stuck in the mud, when one can neither go backward nor forward, and either loses one's shoes or one's patience. Cards were a great resource of an evening, and gaming was all the fashion, for the men who frequented society were chiefly from Virginia or the Western States, and were very fond of brag, the most gambling of all games. Loo was the innocent diversion of the ladies, who when they were looed, pronounced the word in a very mincing manner. "The New Englanders, generally speaking, were very religious, but though there were manv excep- tions, I cannot say so much for the Marylanders, and still less for the Virginians. But in spite of its incon- veniences and desolate aspect, it was. I think, the most agreeable town to reside in for any length of time. The opportunity of collecting information from S tors and Representatives from all parts of the country — the hospitality of the heads of the Government and the Corps Diplomatique of itself, supplied resources such as could nowhere else be looked for.' 1 In Mr. Jefferson's time, the population numbered about LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 120 five thousand persons, and their residences were scat- tered over an immense space. Society presented a novel aspect ; unconnected by similarity of habits, by established fashions, by the ties of acquaintance 01 consanguinity, the motley throng became united into one close and intimate circle by a feeling common to all ; they were strangers in a strange land, and felt the necessity of mutual aid and accommodation, and might be compared to a beautiful piece of mosaic, in which an infinity of separate pieces of diversified colors are blended into one harmonious whole. Mr. Jefferson, many years after his retirement from jDublic life, recur- ring to that time, remarked to a friend that the pecu- liar felicity of his administration was the unanimity that prevailed in his Cabiuet ; " we were, 11 said he, "like one family. 1 ' The same spirit of union and kindness pervaded the whole circle of society — a cir- cle, at that time very limited in its extent and very simple in its habits. The most friendly and social in- tercourse prevailed through all its parts, unshackled by that etiquette and ceremony which have since been introduced, to the no small detriment of social enjoy- ment. The President's house was the seat of hospi- tality, where Mrs. Madison always presided (in the absence of Mr. Jefferson's daughters) when there were female guests. Mrs. Madison and her husband spent three weeks at the White House after their arrival in the city, until they could make arrangements to ob- tain a suitable house. " A circumstance is remem- bered 11 (says Jefferson's biographer) "attending the abolition of levees, which provokes a smile. Some 9 130 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. persons in Washington, principally ladies, we believe, had come to the conclusion that the abolition was in- expedient ; and they made up their minds to muster in force at the Presidential Mansion at the usual time. They accordingly did so. The President was out rid- ing on horseback, but soon returned. Learning the extraordinary number of ladies that had called, and at once guessing the motive of the visit, he went immediately, hat in hand, spurs on, and soiled with dust, into their midst. He expressed himself over- joyed at such a happy coincidence. Never had he been seen so cordial and attentive. He allowed no one to £0 without urging: her longer stay. The fair visitors finally departed, laughing heartily at each other and the result of their experience. They never repeated it." In March, 1S02, Mr. Jefferson wrote to his young- est daughter that he would be at home between the 15th and 20th of April, and that he wished her to be prepared to go back to Washington with him and her sister; but Congress did not adjourn as he expected, and he did not get off until the first of May. The measles broke out in the family of Mrs. Randolph, and she did not go to Washington. The same cause pre- prevented Mrs. Eppes from seeing her father, but during the summer months he was at Monticello as usual. From the letters of Mr. Jefferson of November and December to his youngest daughter, we find him advising her to have good spirits and profit by her asler's cheerfulness. "We are all well here,' 1 he says, LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 13] " and hope the post of this evening will bring us infor mation of the health of all at Edgehill, and particular- ly that Martha and the new bantling are both well ; and that her example gives you good spirits.'" " Take care of yourself, my dearest Maria, and know that courage is as essential to triumph in your case as in that of a soldier. * * * Not knowing the time destined for your expected indisposition, I am anxious on your account. You are prepared to meet it with courage, I hope." And again he writes : — " Washington, March 3, 1S04. "The account of your illness, my dearest Maria, was known to me only this morning. Nothing but the impossibility of Congress proceeding a single step in my absenca, presents an insuperable bar. Mr. Eppes goes off, and, I hope, will find you in a convalescent state. Next to the desire that it may be so, is that of being speedily informed and of being relieved from the terrible anxiety in which I shall be till I hear from you. God bless you, my ever dear daughter, and pre- serve you safe to the blessing of us all." But she was not preserved, frail and sensitive, her nervous system gave way, and she never rallied after her confinement. She died on the 17th of April, be- tween 8 and 9 a. m. The following letter in con- nection with this subject is replete with interest. It was written by a daughter of Mrs. Randolph's to Mr. Randall, in 1856:— ******** " I find an old memorandum, made many years ago. 132 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. I know not when nor under what circumstances, but by my own hand, in the fly-leaf of a Bible. It is to this effect: — Maria Jefferson was born in 1778, and married in 1797. John AVayles Eppes, son of Francis Eppes and Elizabeth Wayles, second daughter of John Wayles. Maria Jefferson died April, 1S04, leaving two children. Francis, born in 1801, and Maria who died an infant. " I have no recollection of the time when I made this memorandum, but I have no doubt of its ac- curacy. " Mrs. Eppes was never well after the birth of her last child. She lingered a while, but never recovered. Mv grandfather was in "Washington, and my aunt passed the winter at Edgehill, where she was confined. I remember the tender and devoted care of my mother, how she watched over her sister, and with what anxious affection she anticipated her every want. I remember, at one time, that she left her chamber and her own infant, that she might sleep in my aunt's room, to assist in taking care of her and her child, I well recollect my poor aunt's pale, faded, and feeble look. Mv grandfather, during his Presidency, made two visits every year to Monticello, a short one in early spring, and a longer one the latter part of the sum- mer. He always stopped at Eagehill, where my mother was then living, to take her and the Tvhole family to Monticello with him. He came this year as usual, anxious about the health of his youngest daugh- ter, whose situation, though such as to excite the ap- prehension of her friends, was not deemed one of im- LADIES OF THE WRITE HOUSE. 133 mediate danger. She had been delicate and something of an invalid, if I remember right, for some years. She was carried to Monticello in a litter borne by men. The distance was perhaps four miles, and she bore the removal well. After this, however, she continued as before steadily to decline. She was taken out when the weather permitted, and carried around the lawn in a carriage, I think drawn by men, and I remember following the carriage over the smooth green turf. How long she lived I do not recollect, but it could have been but a short tinie.^ One morning I heard that my aunt was dying ; I crept softly from my nur- sery to her chamber door, and being alarmed by her short, hard breathing, ran away again. I have a dis- tinct recollection of confusion and dismay in the house- hold. I did not see my mother. By-and-by one of the female servants came running in where I was with other persons, to say that Mrs. Eppes was dead. The day passed I do not know how. Late in the afternoon I was taken to the death chamber. The body was covered with a white cloth, over which had been strewn a profusion of flowers. A day or two after, I followed the coffin to the burying-ground on the mountain side, and saw it consigned to the earth, where it has lain undisturbed for more than fifty years. " My mother has told me that on the day of her sister's death, she left her father alone for some hours. He then sent for her, and she found him with the Bible in his hands. He who has been so often and so harshly accused of unbelief, he, in his hour of intense 134 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. affliction, sought and found consolation in the sacred volume. The Comforter was there for his true heart and devout spirit, even though his faith might not be what the world called orthodox. " There was something very touching in the sight of this once beautiful and still lovely young woman, fading away just as the spring was coming on with its buds and blossoms — nature reviving as she was sinking and closing her eyes on all that she loved best in life. She perished not in autumn with the flowers, but as they were opening to the sun and air in all the freshness of spring. I think the weather was fine, for over my own recollection of these times there is a soft, dreamy sort of haze, such as wraps the earth in warm, dewy spring time. " You know enough of my aunt's early history to be aware that she did not accompany her father, as my mother did, when he first went to France. She joined him, I think, only about two years before his return, and was placed in the same convent where my mother received her education. Here she went by the name of Mademoiselle Polie. As a child she was called Polly by her friends. It was on her way to Paris that she staid awhile in London with Mrs. Adams, and there is a pleasing mention of her in that lady's pub- lished letters. " I think the visit (not a very long one) made by my mother and aunt to their father in Washino-ton, must have been in the winter of 1802-3. My aunt, I be- lieve, was never there again ; but after her death, about the winter of 1805-6, my mother, with all hei LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 135 children, passed some time at tlie President's House. I remember that both my father and uncle Eppes were then in Congress, but cannot say whether this was th, case in 1802-3. , Q1 » My aunt Mrs. Eppes was singularly beautitul. bHe was high-principled, just, and generous. Her temper, naturally mild, became, I think, saddened by ill-health in the latter part of her life. In that respect she dit- fcred from my mother, whose disposition seemed to have the sunshine of heaven in it. Nothing ever wearied my mother's patience, or exhausted, what was inexhaustible, her sweetness, her kindness, indulgence, and self-devotion. She was intellectually somewhat superior to her sister, who was sensible of the differ- ence, though she was- of too noble a nature for her feelings ever to assume an ignoble character, I here was between the sisters the strongest and warmest at- tachment, the most perfect confidence and affection. My aunt utterlv undervalued and disregarded her own beauty, remarkable as it was. She was never fond of dress or ornament, and was always careless of admiration. She was ever vexed by allusions to her beauty, saying that people only praised her for that, because they could not praise her for better things. If my mother inadvertently exclaimed, half sportively, 'Marie, it 1 only had your beauty ! ' my aunt would resent it as far as she could resent any thing said or done by her sister. It may be said the extraordinary value she attached to talent was mainly founded in her idea that by the possession of it, -she would become a more suitable companion for her father. Both daughters considered 136 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. affection as the gi at good of their live?, and both 1 bint with all the devotion of their most loving hearts. My aunt s m mourned over the fear th .: her father must prefer her sister's society, and could not take the same pleasure in hers. This very hum:.::." in . :: - rely was a charm the more in her character. She was greatly loved and esteemed bv all her friends. She was on a footing of the most inti- hip with m? :. Mrs. T. Eston Randolph, ha M a most exemplary and admirable woman, whose daughter, long years after, married Francis, Airs. Ej :.." Ever delighting in the society of his two children and deeply a his home. Mr. Jefferson felt this blow with terrible anguish. Worthy of so good a man's affection, they were never so happy as in being with their :'. ith :\ contributing to his comfort in num- berless way-. They both married cousins when quite young, but ~ rer far from their childhood's home, and were always under his roof when he paid his semi- annual visits there. Mrs. Randolph was a brilliant woman ; and had her : a less inclined to do- mestic life, she wc ol I have been a renowned belle. Educated abroad and strengthened mentally by travel and the of the literary talent ever to be found about her fatter, she became conversant with knowl- s richest store, and surpassed most of the women of her day in accomplishments. Though widely differ- ::: in th r , there was m ich : semblance be tween the President and Vice President in the intensity af th b I - for their daughters. Theodosia Burr and LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 13? Martha Jefferson will be familiar names so long as the history of this country shall be among the things of earth. Both intellectual companions of their only parents, both ardently attached to fathers they deemed the wisest and greatest of earth — they have become forever linked with the life and times of each, and covers for the one a multitude of faults, and has made the other dear to his people. Both were great men, adored by daughters gifted and good. Theoclosia Burr has thrown around her father's name a romantic interest which veils many infirmities, and adds lustre to the traits which in the eyes of the world redeemed him. Mrs. Adams, who had known Maria Jefferson and loved her when a child, overcame the pride she had allowed to control her silent pen, and wrote to Mr. Jefferson, awakening in his heart tender feelings of friendship too long allowed to Jie dormant. He re- plied that her former kindnesses to his lost child made a deep impression on her mind, and that to the last, on our meetings after long separations, " whether I had heard lately of you," and " how you did," were among the earliest of her inquiries. Mrs. Adams' letter was as follows : " Quixot, 20th May, 1804. "Had you been no other than the private inhabitants of Monticello, I should, ere this time, have addressed you with that sympathy which a recent event has awakened iu my bosom ; but reasons of various kinds withheld my pen, until the powerful feelings of my 138 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. heart burst through the restraint, and called upon me to shed the tear of sorrow over the departed remains of your beloved and deserving daughter — an event which I sincerely mourn. " The attachment which I formed for her when you committed her to my care, upon her arrival in a for- eign land, under circumstances peculiarly interesting, has remained with me to this hour : and the account of her death, which I read in a late paper, recalled to my recollection the tender scene of her separation from me, when, with the strongest sensibility, she clung round my neck and wet my bosom with her tears, say- ing, " Oh ! now I have learned to love yon, why will they take me from you ? " " It has been some time, since I conceived that any event in this life could call forth feelings of mutual sympathy. But I know how closely entwined around a parent's heart are those cords which bind the pater- nal to the filial bosom ; and when snapped assunder, how agonizing the pangs. I have tasted of the bitter cup, and bow with reverence and submission before the great Dispenser of it, without whose permission and overruling providence not a sparrow falls to the ground. That you may derive comfort and consola- tion in this day of your sorrow and affliction from that only source calculated to heal the wounded heart — a firm belief in the being, perfection, and attributes of God — is the sincere and ardent wish of her who once took pleasure in subscribing herself your friend, " Abigail Adams." LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE. 139 Mr. Jefferson was inaugurated President a second time on the 4th of March, 1805, then in the sixty-sec- ond year of his age. The following winter, hi* only daughter, with all her children, passed most of the season at the White House. She never made but two visits there; one with her sister, the second year of his first term, and this last one in the winter of 1805—6, after her sisters death. Means of travel were not so rapid or pleasant as now, and the laborious and ex- tremely tedious undertaking of travelling so far in a carriage was sufficient to dampen the desire of living for a few alternate months with her father. The un- healthy condition of "Washington at that time, its low and marshy condition, engendering disease, ren- dered it absolutely necessary for those unacclimated to be out of its limits during the hot months of summer. The increasing cares of children and the duties of Virginia matrons, also deterred Mrs. Randolph from becoming, as we must only regret she did not, perma- nently located in the President's House. Her memory is so fragrant with the perfume of purity and saintly sweetness, that it is a privilege to dwell and muse upon a theme so elevating. The world has not yet developed a more harmonious, re- fined, or superior type of womanhood than the daugh- ters of Virginia in the last century. Reared in ease and plenty, taught the virtues that ennoble, and val- uing their good name no less than prizing their family lineage, they were the most delightful specimens of womanhood ever extant. Most rjarticularlv was Mar- J. V tha Jefferson of this class, whose image is fast losing 140 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. originality in the modern system of utilitarian educa- tion. Her father's and her husband's great enemy pronounced her t; the sweetest woman in Virginia;" and the assurance comes laden with the testimony of many tongues, that her existence was one of genial sunshine and peace. Are not such natures doubly blessed, first, in the happiness they secure to them- selves, and, secondly, in the blessing they are to those who walk in the light of their example ? With the retirement of Mr. Jefferson from public life, came a new trouble in the shape of innumerable visitors, and the seventeen yea?s he lived at Monticello was one continued scene of new faces and old friends. Even after the loss of property and accumulated debts, he was compelled to entertain thoughtless crowds who made pilgrimages to his shrine. Time and again he would go to an adjoining estate to secure that rest and quiet so essential to his health ; but these visits were never" of long duration, for he could not consent to be separated from his daughter, even though accompanied by his grandchildren. As the shadows began to darken round his earth-life, and bankruptcy to hover over him, he turned with, redoubled affection to this idol, and she was strong and faithful to the last. Mother and sister she had buried, and she was yet strong enough to see her husband and father taken. " There were few eminent men of our country, ex- cept, perhaps, some political adversaries, who did not visit Mr. Jefferson in his retirement, to say nothing of distinguished foreis-ncrs." But all visitors were not as agreeable as " eminent men." " There are a number LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 141 of persons now living who have seen groups of utter strangers, of both sexes, planted in the passage be- tween his study and dining-room, consulting then- watches, and waiting for him to pass from one to the other to his dinner, so that they could momentarily stare at him. A female once punched through a win- dow-pane of the house, with her parasol, to get a bet- ter view of him. When sitting in the shade of his porticoes to enjoy the coolness of the approaching evening, parties of men and women would sometimes approach within a dozen yards, and gaze at him point- blank until they had looked their fill, as they would have gazed on a lion in a menagerie.'' Mrs. Randolph was u the apple of her father's eye." All his letters bear witness to his affection, and all his life records this prominent sentiment of his heart. A gentleman writing to him for his views on a proper course of education for woman, he takes the opportu- nity of complimenting her unconsciously. " A plan of female education," he says, -has never been a subject of systematic contemplation with me. It has occupied my attention so far only as the education of my own daughters occasionally required. Considering that they would be placed in a country situation where lit- tle aid could be obtained from abroad, I thought it es- sential to give them a solid education, which might enable them— when become mothers— to educate their own daughters, and even to direct the course for sons, should their lathers be lostyor incapable, or inatten- tive. •• My surviving daughter accordingly, the mother 142 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. of many daughters as well as sons, lias made their education the object of her life, and being a better judge of the practical part than myself, it is with her aid and that of one of her eleves, that I shall subjoin a catalogue of the books for such a course of reading as we have practised.'' 1 Again, in a letter to his grandson, Thomas Jeffer- son Eandolph, he says : " You kindly encourage me to keep up my spirits ; but oppressed with disease, debility, age, and embar- rassed affairs, this is difficult. For myself, I should not regard a prostration of fortune ; but I am over- whelmed at the prospect of the situation in which I may leave my family. My dear and beloved daugh- ter, the cherished companion of my early life, and nar.se of my age, and her children, rendered as dear to me as if my own, from having lived with me from their cradle, left in a comfortless situation, hold up tome nothing but future gloom ; and I should not care were life to end with the line I am writing, were it not that in the unhappy state of mind which your father's misfortunes have brought upon him, I may yet be of some avail to the family?' Ex-President Jefferson died the 4th of Julv, 1826, and at nearly the same hour passed away the spirit of John Adams. He lingered a little behind Jefferson, and his last words, uttered in the failing articulation of the dying, were : " Jefferson still survives. 1 ' Mrs. Randolph left no written* account of the scene. On the 21 of July, Mr. Jefferson handed her a little cas- ket. On opening it. after lii^ d**ath, she found a papei LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 143 on which he had written the lines of Moore, commenc- ing : " It is not the ter.r at this moment shed When the cold turf has just heen lain o'er him" There is also a touching tribute to his daughter, declaring that while he " goes to his fathers," " the last pang of life," is in parting from her ; that " two Graphs " " long shrouded in death " (meaning doubt- less his wife and younger daughter) " await him ; ™ that he will " bear them her love. 1 ' After this, all is sadness. To satisfy creditors all the property was sold, and the proceeds did not fully meet the debts. " When it became known that Monticello had gone, or must go out of the hands of Mr. Jefferson 1 .- family, and that his only child was left without an independent provision, another exhibition of public feeling took place. The Legislatures of South Caro- lina and Louisiana promptly voted her §10,000 each, and the stocks they created for the purpose sold for $21,800. Other plans were started in other States, which, had they been carried out, would have em- braced a liberal provision for Mr. Jefferson's descend- ants. But, as is usual on such occasions, the people in each locality obtained exaggerated impressions of what was doin^ in others, and slackened their own exer- tions until the feeling that prompted them died away." Two years passed, and Mrs. Kandolph was called upon to see her husband die, and she of all her name remained to link the memory of her ancestors with those of her descendants. 144 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. Governor Thomas Mann Randolph died on the 20th day of June, 1828, two years after Mr. Jefferson's death. At some period before, he was riling on horse- back, near night-fall, on a wet, cold day, when he over- took an aged man thinly clad and apparently suffering. They were remote from any dwelling. Randolph un- solicited unbuckled his cloak, threw it on the old man, and rode on. He had a number of miles to go, and the exposure proved fatal to him. The gloom and misanthropy which had clouded his later years, broke away at his dying couch. He expired at pence with all the world and invoking blessings on every member of his family. An autograph letter, kindly furnished by Mrs. Los- sing for this work, was written by Mr. Randolph to Mrs. Madison, soon after the death of Mr. Madison. u Mrs. Madisox, Montpelier, Orange Court House, Vir- ginia. ••I believe I made a mistake, mv dear friend, with » regard to the hour of our reachius: Orange Court House. I understood it to be night before the stasfe arrived. They tell me here that it gets to Orange Court House early in the day, where, if you can send your carriage for us, Cornelia, Mary Cutts, and my- self will go immediately to Montpelier. Mary and Septimia will keep on in the stage to Albemarle. Friday then we shall be with you. I have merelv written these few lines to rectifv the mistake. Gocl LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 145 bless you, dear friend, and support you under youi present sorrow, is the daily and nightly prayer of " Your most affectionate friend, " M. Ra]ntdolph. " Alexandria, July 6th, 1836." To her daughter, Mrs. Virginia Jefferson Trist of Philadelphia, I am indebted for this narrative of the closing eight years of Mrs. Randolph's life. "My Dear Madam: " I wish it were in my power to answer your in- quiries more satisfactorily than I am able to do. My recollections of my mother, at so early a period of my life as the one referred to, are altogether childish and imperfect. It is true, my very earliest recollections are connected wuth a winter passed in the White House during my grandfather's presidency, but they are so few and so scanty and childish, as they rise before me in the mists of long past years, that really nothing worth offering you suggests itself to my mind. " My mother was born in September, 1772, and had therefore entered her 29th year when her father was elected President. She was then the mother of five children, having married at the early age of seventeen. Thus surrounded by a family of young children, she could not pass much of her time in -Washington ; she did, however, spend two winters there, the first in 1802-3, the second "in 1805-6. Her health w T as very bad on the first of these two occasions of her visiting her father. Having an abscess on her lungs, she was. 10 146 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. advised by her jjhysician to go to pass the winter in Bermuda, and for this purpose left her home in Albemarle, Virginia, to go as far as Washington in her travelling carriage — the only mode at that day of making the journey of four days' duration. During this journey the abscess broke, and she felt so much relieved that her going to Bermuda was no longer considered necessary, and she passed that winter with her father. I believe my father was in Congress at that time. My mothers only sister, Maria Jefferson, then Mrs. John W. Eppes, was also a member of her father's family that winter, her husband being in Congress. There was a difference of six vears in the ages of the sisters ; my mother, who was the oldest, had accompanied her father to France where she was educated under his eyes. My aunt had afterward followed them to Paris under the wing of Mrs. John Adams, in whose correspondence mention is made of her. The throe became thus reunited only two years before their return home, after which she (my aunt) was placed at school in Philadelphia. She grew up possessed of rare beauty and loveliness of person as well as disposition ; but her health was delicate and her natural modesty and timidity was so great as to make her averse to society. Undervaluing her own personal advantages, she regarded with the warmest admiration, as well as sisterly affection, her sister's more positive character and brilliant intellectual endowments. My mother was not a beauty; her features were less regular than her sister's, her face owing its charms more to its expressiveness, beaming as it ever was with LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 147 kindness, good humor, gayefcy, and wit She was tall and very graceful, notwithstanding a certain degree of embonpoint. Her complexion naturally fair, her hair of a dark chestnut color, very long and very abundant. I have always heard that her manners were uncom- monly attractive from their vivacity, amiability, and high breeding, and her conversation was charming. These two sisters were the ladies of the White House in 1802-3. My mother was very sociable and enjoyed society. I remember hearing her mention a circumstance which seemed to illustrate the natural difference of their characters. She said one day, laughingly, ' Maria, if I had your beauty, I should not feel so indifferent as you do about it.' My aunt looked vexed and pained, and observed, ' Compliments to a pretty face were indications that no intellectual attrac- tions existed in its possessor.' " From their contemporary, Mrs. Madison, I have heard, that that winter when the sisters were going- together into society, although on entering a room all eyes were turned on the younger, who became a centre of attraction, particularly to the gentlemen, that by degrees my mother's vivacity and the charms of her conversation and manners drew around her a circle of admirers who delighted in listening to her even more than in looking at her beautiful sister. These two sisters lived in perfect harmony, linked together by the warmest mutual affection, as well as their com- mon devotion to their father whom both idolized. "My mother's second visit to her father was in the winter of 1805-6. She had then lost her sister. My 14S ladies or rai white house. aunt left two children, Irancis and Maria Jefferson; the little girl was only a few months old and did not long survive her mother. Francis passed that winter under my mother's care, his father being still in Con- One of my brothers was born that same winter , first birth which took place in the White House. He was called James Madison. Mrs. Madison was an intimate and much valued friend of my mothers, and her amiable, playful manners with children attracted my sisters and myself and made her a great favorite Among my childish recollections is her { running away with us,' as she playfully expressed it, when she took us away with her in her carriage, to give us a drive and then take us home with her to play ritl two of her nieces near our ages, and lunch on cranberry tarts. My oldest raster, Anne, completed her fifteenth year that winter, and was not yet going into society ; but my mother permitted her to go to a ball under tl • of a lady . who requested that my sister might go to her house to dress and )wn daughter near her age to the ball. My sister great admiration on that occasion. She Lad a u remarkably classic head," as I remember hearing an Italian artist remark at Monticello upon seeing her ther was the mother of several children. Her hair was a beautiful auburn, and her plexion Lai a delicate bloom very becoming to her, and with the freshness of fifteen I can readily imagine how strikino-lv handsome she was. My mother, ac Mrs. Cutts — the mother of Gen. Richard D. Cutts— went to the ball at a later hour LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 149 She was very short-sighted, and seeing my sister on entering the ball room she asked Mrs. Cutts, " Who is that beautiful girl?' 1 Mrs. Cutts, much amused, answered, " Why, woman, are you so unnatural a mother as not to recognize your own daughter % " "My sister died many years ago; if she were now living, she could no doubt tell much of what happened that^winter in the White House. She formed some pleasant acquaintances in Washington, and made some friends with whom she corresponded for years. I have Borne recollections of the house as it w^as before being burned by the British, and as it was rebuilt on the same plan ; I have since recognized parts of it most fa- miliar to my eyes. A lasting impression was made upon my memory by the reception in one of the draw- ing-rooms, of the Tunisian Ambassador and suite; the brilliantly lighted room, the odd appearance to my puzzled senses of the rich Turkish dresses, and my alarm at receiving a kiss from the Secretary of the Ambassador, whilst one of my sisters, just two years old, whose Saxon complexion and golden hair made her a beautiful picture, was honored by a kiss from the Ambassador, of which she has no recollection. I heard of the elegant presents brought by them for my moth- er and aunt, and which were publicly exhibited and sold. My mother wished to purchase one of the shawls intended for her, but when Mrs. Madison went to make the purchase she found that she had been an- ticipated by another person. Tne talk about these presents could not, of course, fail to greatly excite my childish curiosity, but my desire to see them was not 150 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. gratified. My grandfather did not allow theni to be brought to the President's House, as it was then called — a name which, ii^seenis, was too plain English to suit modern notions of dignified refinement, for it has been superseded by the more stately appellation of ' Execu- tive Mansion.' " From its being the cause of my disappointment in seeing those beautiful specimens of Oriental luxury and taste, my grandfather's strictness on that occasion served to impress upon my mind, earlier than it otherwise would have been impressed, a trait of his character which afterward became as familiar to me, and as nat- ural a part of himself, as the sound of his voice — I mean his scrupulousness in conforming to the laws in all things, great or small. " To return to my mother, it is to that period that belongs a remark which Ions; afterward I was told had been made of her by the Marquis de Yrugo, the Spanish Ambassador, that she was fitted to grace any court in Europe. I was then too young to know and appreciate her as I afterward came to do. I have never known any one who accomplished as much as she did, making use of all she had been taught, in an education wdrich fitted her for the performance of the various duties which fell to her lot. After my grand- father retired from public life, she became the mistress of his house. My father visited his farm in the neigh- borhood of Monticello daily,' and during the busy sea- son of harvest my mother always staid with him while it lasted. My mother educated her six daughters un- assisted by any one. During the summer months, flie LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE. 151 crowds of visitors to my grandfather who filled the house and engrossed much of her time, interrupted oui studies and made us lose much precious time ; but she had the art of awakening an interest in what she taught us, and exciting a desire for improvement, which made us make the most of the quiet winter months which she could devote to us. She was a good musician, and was fond of gardening; she super intended personally all household matters, and in the winter evenings when my grandfather was seated in his arm-chair in the chimney corner, a small candle- stand was placed between them, and they spent the eve- nings reading. She had all the tastes which made country life agreeable, without losing her relish for the attractions of town life. Such was my mother as I knew her, and I remember her most perfectly. She was the mother of twelve children, eleven of whom lived to grow up. " My youngest sister's name was Septimia. She was my mother's seventh daughter, and her name was the occasion of a poetic compliment to my mother from an old Portuguese gentleman, the Abbe Correa de Serra, who visited my grandfather every year during his long residence in Philadelphia. He was for several years Portuguese Ambassador to the United States. His learning, his interesting and instructive conversation, the amiable, childlike simplicity of his character and manners, made this old philosopher alike attractive to the older and younger members of the family. His visits were enjoyed by us all, from my grandfather and mother down to the youngest child of the house, only 152 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. two years old. In allusion to her name of Septirnia, he said to my mother, 'Your daughters. Mrs. Randolph, are like the Pleiades ; they are called seven, but six only are seen.' The second daughter died an infant. "T regret, dear madam, that the small contribu- tion which I can make to the materials you have for your book should be. so slow in reaching you, and it has been from no want of zeal on my part that this delay has arisen. I have been so much indisposed as to have to keej> my bed since I received your letter, and Mr. Trist has been an invalid for more than two months past, requiring, of course, much of my time aDd attention. My two unmarried sisters, who have formed a part of my family since my mother's death, have nothing to add, they say, to what I have written ; our recollections of those days are nearly the same. We are a household of infirm old people, and my bad sight is. of all my infirmities, that which is the most troublesome ; it prevents my reading or writing in the winter evening oka with large clear print, and for months together I have sometimes been de- prived of the power of using my eyes by daylight. I am glad they happen to be better at present. I am told that the lett ra : Mrs. Smith [the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. John Adams] were published by her laughter after her mothers death, and that in them she speaks of mv mother, whom she saw in Paris when a young girl of sixteen years. "The from which the enclosed extracts were made are the only ones of my mother's that we can procure at the present time. They are all addressed LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 153 to the same person, the youngest of her daughters, and being chiefly letters of .advice and admonition to a young girl, may be wholly uninteresting to general readers, though the interest you express in the writer of them may make them not unacceptable to you. ^To us who knew her, they are eminently characteristic and expressive of her habitual feelings and opinions. The little note written in the winter of 1828 — which she passed alternately with her daughter, Mrs. Cool- iclge, in Boston, and in the house of her kind friend, Mrs. Stearns, in Cambridge, where Septimia was at the time, going to a day-school — reminds us of her cheer- fulness in adversity and the natural playfulness of her disposition, which, as well as her love of flowers, she never lost to the last days of her life. Iu writing to one of us* and speaking of this and other tastes of hers in which music was included, I remember her using these words, which to us had a touching significance : 1 The few useless pleasures which still strew my path would be heartless all, wil^iout my dear children/ The note in question refers apparently to an invita- tion from a young friend in Boston to a former com- panion in Cambridge. The letters of the winters of 1832-33 need no explanation. I shall only observe that the impression made on my mother's mind in fa- vor of the Catholic religion, was the consequence of her having passed several years in a Catholic convent and house of education for young ladies in Paris, the : Abbaye Royale de Panthemont.' The church of this building, considered rather remarkable on account of some peculiarity in its dome, is, I believe, still in exis- 154 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOESE. tence, and has "been used as a Protestant church. It stands on the corner of the Eue de Grenelle and the Rue de Bellechasse, Faubourg St. Germain, this at least is my recollection of it after a pilgrimage made to it many years ago. The attempt of the good nuns of this establishment to make a proselyte of ray mother seems to have been prosecuted with zeal, as they thought it advisable, on this special occasion, to call into requisition the abilities and powers of persuasion of the Abbe Edge worth de Firmont, the same who after- ward acted as confessor to Louis XVI. in the days of his adversity, and accompanied him to the guillo- tine. Of this truly pious and good man she always .spoke with feelings of kindness and respect. If he failed in his efforts to convert to his faith one so young, so guileless, and so susceptible of strong religious im- pressions as my mother, it was simply because her de- votion to her father was so great as to overpower all her other feelings. I have heard her speak of the over- whelming emotion with which her first request to be permitted to embrace the Catholic faith was received by him, and the earnestness of his entreaties that she would refrain from taking any decisive step at that time, and would at least allow herself time and opportunity for calm, deliberate, mature reflection. She felt, then, that she coulel never be the cause of so much unhappiness to her father, whatever might be the consequences to herself, and made no opposition to an immediate re- moval from the convent to her father's house in Paris. I elo not believe that the subject was ever afterward discussed between them ; but I have heard her say, in LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 155 relation to some books given her by the Abbe Edge worth, not all on religious subjects, that for a long time after she had renounced all idea of professing the Catholic faith, she could not look upon them without their awakening such painful sensations in her mind that she desired to put them out of her sight. "The letter of January, 1836, written nine months before her death, was in answer to one received from her daughter, giving an account of a journey to Pen- sacola. The incident alluded to, of the stage coach in which the travellers found themselves — the driver having carelessly quitted his seat leaving them to the mercy of excited horses just approaching the top of a steep and difficult descent, was by no means the great- est danger to which the travellers were exposed in this journey through Florida. The Indian hostilities were just breaking out there, and all was in a state of alarm and excitement wherever they passed. My sister's destination was Donaldsonville, but having reached Pensacola, it became so manifestly unsafe for her to go farther, or to return, that she was, induced to accept a kind and pressing invitation from an old friend of her family, and remain where she was, enjoying the mild climate so requisite to her health under the roof of those hospitable Virginians until the difficulties which beset her path were removed. Mr. Trist, however, be- ing relieved from the embarrassment of his female companion, was not to be deterred from pursuing his journey to ISew Orleans, where he was to embark for Havana. " J 56 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. "Bobton, Jan. Oil, 1828. " I have do objection, dear Septiniia, to your going to this party, and will return an answer of acceptance for you. Mrs. Stearns will be so kind as to have a place taken for you in the Monday morning stage, and we will return together on Thursday to dinner or tea. as we see fit. Pray send a special invitation to the beau t if ill rose to come aod shed its sweetDess in the more genial clime of our little pleasant room, instead of wasting it in a cold cellar. Tell Mrs. Stearns I should not have expected such inhospitable treatment to a dog-iose, much less to this frail and beautiful exotic. It is really strange when Ponto and the cat can sport in the light and warmth of her entry, and even occasionally in- trude into her parlor, that this elegant child of Flora should be consigned to a dreary, cold cellar. Invite her, by all means, to our chamber, and let her be sec- ond only to the lily. Give the wall-flower to under- stand that I expect her to do the honors of our domi- cile in such a style as not to discredit her native State, and present me kindly to the whole family, including the mignionettes, if they are still in the land of the living. u Adieu, my dear daughter. Remember me most affectionately to Mrs. StearDS and the girls, and burn this foolish note as soon as you have read it. Your affectionate mother, M. R." " Boston. Doc 9tli, 1832. ~ I have staid from church, dear Septimia, for the ex- press purpose of answering your letter. I am not sur- prised at your predilection for the Catholic faith at LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 157 . your age ' I believed most religiously that it waa the only road to heaven, and looked forward with fear and terror to the possibility of never again having it m my power to confess myself a member of that church which I believed the true and original one. My affec- tion for my father prevented my taking any steps at so early an age without his approbation. He asked of me what I ask of you : do nothing precipitately. If, after your judgment is matured, you find it neces- sary for your happiness to embrace the Catholic faith, you will' find no opposition from me. But at your age the imagination and our fears are all alive, and the judoTnent, which depends upon experience and reflec- tion, is entirely unfounded. Listen to the arguments on both sides without fear ; knowing, as you do, your own sincerity in the search of truth; wait a few years till yon see what the result will be, and then decide according to your conscience. Confession I do not ob- ject to, because the'self-examination to which it obliges as, leads to a knowledge of ourself, the more rigid as we dare not admit vanity or pride to bias the true and sincere exposition which we must humble ourselves to make, without indulgence or partiality to our weak- nesses. And that thorough examination and knowl- edge of self to which it leads, enables us to be upon our guard to watch and correct our besetting sin. "But I acknowledge that I see nothing of it in the Bible. Of course that is one of the additions^ to Christ's original doctrines. A belief in the Trinity, which we think was no doctrine of his, but added by one of the councils 300 years after him, is essential to 15^ LADIES OF THE WHITE DOUSE. the most monstrous article of their creed.* the trait substantiation. What a degrading idea of the Al- mighty Creator and Euler of the Universe, to suppose that he would transform himself into a little bit of n and digested by 1/ ures. And. although there is but one God, ret most assuredly, ac- cording to their belief, every communion day there must be thousands, for all over the world where Cath- olics are taking it, each has his own God Father, Son, Holy Ghost, the body and blood of our Saviour along with it, in his stomach at the same time. And of what use is such a miracle, if it were possible \ Those who do not believe in it are equally followers ot Christ, and eat the bread in rem : . ' the last supper which he took with his apostles. His miracles had all some definite purpose. H ight to the blind, restored the use of their limbs to the cripples. and raised the dead from the tomb, in presence of thousands, that, seeing his sufi . iral powers, they might know that his mission >.ine one. They saw those miracles with their ind there was a reason for them. But when the Catholic priest tells us that he has convened a chalice full of waters into so many Gods, we have only his word for it, for to our eyes they are still but waters : and for what has he done, this miracle, — that, like cannibals, we nrigL~ our God \ The idea to me is not only absurd and dis- gusting, but absolutely blasphemous : and we can only receive it in our minds by rifice of reason and common sense. Those who are brought up in that opinion from their infancy, when impressions are deep LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 159 »st, and wlio are taught that it is injurious to reason upon the subject, that every doubt is a temptation of Satan, are afraid to use the reason that God has given them. Their purgatory is a rational modification of hell, where the punishment is said to be eternal ; but still I am forced to admit that there is no authority for it in the iSTew Testament. The Catholics say that theirs is the true faith, to which Christ made the prom- ise ' that the gates of hell shall not prevail against her.' If we take the promise on a broader basis, and suppose it to be made to the Christian religion at large, of which the Catholic is only a sect, it is much more conformable to reason ; for certainly the Catholics have added so much to the single doctrines of Christ that it bears very little resemblance to the original system as we find it in the New Testament, which is the basis upon which every sect has built up a code according to the character of their reformer, or other circum- sfcances. A straight-forward sincerity in our opinions, or, if they are unsettled, a sincere desire for truth, is all that is required of us as to faith. Strict morality, the control of our passions, is equally a part of religion, designated by the term ' good works.' " Mr. Greenwood said very justly, that there was no such thing as religion without morality ; that ' reli- gion was virtue, and virtue was religion. 1 If we are in error, after having done everything in our power to come at the truth, we cannot in common sense believe that a just God will punish us for the weakness of an understanding which He himself gave us, and which we make the best use of accordiug to our powers. If we 160 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. seek not to flatter or deceive ourselves, He will never punish us for the want of that judgment which He alone could give us. I think it is a duty to cultivate the talents he has given us, and to improve them by reading and other means. But infallibility is not de manded of short-sighted, imperfect beings like us. Let us feel that we have acted to the best of our judg- ment, and rest assured that nothing more can be re- quired of us. I have written you a hurried scrawl, dear Septimia, upon a very important subject, but it is better to send this than run the risk of losing the op- portunity -by copying it over and methodizing what I have said. I write as I speak, but repetitions and in- correct modes of expression which do not strike us in conversation, make a bad appearance on paper. How- ever, I write not for the critic, but for my dear chil- dren, who will excuse inelegancies of expression and carelessness of diction. I will still repeat what I said in the beginning of my letter : if, after a few years, you still persevere, I shall not oppose any step that your mature judgment may approve, and no difference of opinion can diminish the love I shall always feel for you ; and if, as our Saviour says ' In my Father's house are many mansions 1 — so must there be many roads leading to that house. " Xow, with regard to Mi's. , she has been uni- formly kind and attentive to us. She may deserve what the world says of her, but I would not be the one to 'cast the first stone.'' I never would take the lead in hunting a fellow-creature out of society, and making desperate one who may yet recover. I would LADIES OF THE WHITE HOESE. 161 certainly visit her, and very particularly Mrs. * * * I am bound to South Carolina in gratitude for every thing of comfort we possess. If her political opinions are wrong, I am sorry for it; but our concern is with her kind acts to us, not her defective politics. Old Mrs. also, I think, the girls should visit. Mra W., they will, of course ; and when they do visit any friends of mine, particularly those I have mentioned, I wish to be kindly and respectfully mentioned to them. " E. says I must tell you that at fifteen, she, too, had strong notions of Catholicism, but that slie has out- grown them all." " Boarov, January 31st, 1SS3. " I wrote so often last week, dear Septimia, that I did not think it necessary to be so very punctual this time as I generally am. My health is so good at pres- ent that you need be under no apprehension on that score. I had, as Mrs. Troll ope would say, ' pretty con- siderable of headache ' and pain in the face last week, but I went to two evening parties in the rain, and it cured me. One at Mrs. G/s was a complete take in. She asked E. and myself to meet Mrs. S. P. G. and her family, and no one else was either ' expressed or un- derstood.' E. was unwell, and as Mrs. G. had repeat- edly pressed us to take tea in a sociable way with her, I went, when to my surprise I found the room fill by degrees, and we had a party of between thirty and forty persons, mostly strangers. The next night w5s to Mrs. S. S.'s, who, as well as the Colonel, has been 11 162 LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE so civil to me, and lias asked us so often, that I did not feel at liberty to refuse. I met Mde. Audubon, wait- ing for some acquaintance to go in with, having, as well as myself, come alone, and we went in together. a very much pleased with her, and the pleasure, or rather one of the pleasures, in visiting her, is, that we admitted into the room where her husband and re painting and working upon their birds — which .. assures me does not disturb them. ■sJ •& •5r -5J •£• •■ I prefer very much the forms of the Episcopal Church, for, at least, the service cant be destroyed. I admit that the Catholic Church has some most com- able doctrines, if you, can believe them: but there is the difficulty. Without giving up your reason, which has given us as a guide through life, it is impos- sible to believe in the transubstantiation. Xeither can rational beings believe that the prayer and fasting of one person can atone for the sins of another. Bring- ing the doctrine home to yourself — if vou should have . your life in vice and crime, and upon your -la whole convent of priests should tell you, ; ' die in peace, my daughter; though your life has been a tissue of crimes of the blackest in the catalogue of human depravity, we will give you absolution, and we will - y - j many prayers and masses for you that you will escape the punishment which your crimes have deserved," — could you believe them? Or can you bring your mind to believe for one moment that the Almighty would give up his judgment-seat to a short- .-red mortal? Believe me, dear S.. that he only LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 163 who made you, and knows exactly in what propor- tions the good and the bad are compounded, and the strength to resist, or the weakness of a poor imperfect being, can judge truly of the degree of merit or sin. The more difficulty we find in subduing our passions, the more merit. A quiet person, whose propensities to error are weak, deserves much less in the eyes of the Father than one in whom he himself has implanted stronger passions, and who has overcome them by dint of struggling ; although in the eyes of the world the most quiet w T ill be deemed the most meritorious. Those things must be between ourselves and our Mak- er. He alone can appreciate the efforts of the weak and erring, or know how much or how little trouble those in whom he has implanted weak passions have taken not to subdue them, but to stimulate their quiet and indolent tempers to the performance of active vir- tue. A knowledge of our own imperfections ought to make us indulgent to others whose difficulties are not the less great for being of a different description. Self-knowledge should teach us humility, and our igno- rance of others, charity. " But it is a hard case to send you a sermon, and an ill written one, instead of a letter that would, or ought to, enliven you with the news of the gay and fashionable world, of which, however, I am no longer a member. 1 ' " Boston, January 18th, 183G. " I cannot tell you, dear Septimia, how delighted I was to hear from you, and how much amusement, as well as pleasure, your letter afforded us. We received 164 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. tt Saturday night, and Sunday your sister told the news at church, and some of your friends, amongst others Susan, came in to learn the particulars of your journey ; your struggle with your fat neighbor to pre- vent his throwing himself under the wheels while the hoi-ses were running, diverted Susan and Mr. L. exces- sively. He said it was a scene for a painter ; and I am commissioned to ask you whether it was consideration for him, or the selfish feelings so elegantly expressed by ' company in distress makes sorrow the less, 1 which induced you to cling to him so pertinaciously, and, it appears, so much against his will, although most prob- ably you saved his life by so doing. I am very glad to hear that you are with Mr. Willis ; out of your own family you could be nowhere more to my satisfaction. Mr. Willis is a most excellent, kind-hearted man, and besides the connection between the families by the marriage of his son to two of your cousins successive- ly, he served a campaign under your father,* and was a great favorite of his. He is also well acquainted with many members of the family. You remember the first time we returned to Virginia, he was in the boat with us, and Cornelia made a blind for his eye, that was very much inflamed. So if you find that you are not in the way, and I cannot conceive how you should be, make yourself easy till you can finish your journey, which I hope the vicinity of our squadron will render safe. " The climate of Pensacola is a divine one. Here, « * In Canada, during the war of 1812. LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 165 we have never seen the face of the earth since the 23d of November, and at present we have a fresh fall of from six to eight inches of snow to cleanse the old, which was getting to be very dirty, dripping enough from the eaves of the houses to make the side-walks sheets of ice, with an occasional avalanche to knock you down by way of variety ; and the thermometer the night before last, and the night before that, was at 8° above zero. People have scrambled and slipped and plunged and tumbled down as usual, but as to walking, no one aspires to that commodious and grace- ful mode of proceeding ; too happy to get to your journey's end without destroying your dress or break- ing your bones at the least. Yet except some dread- ful spells just after you left us, the winter has not been a very hard one ; it is true, we never set eyes upon the sun, but that here is a mere circumstance. "lam so elad vou went to Pensacola instead of Tallahassee. In the first place, the climate is far pre- ferable ; you are much better where you are. Show the kind friends with whom you are staying a cheerful countenance and grateful temper, and, above all, dear Septimia, remember that you are under the protection of a Father, sleeping or waking, who never for a moment forgets or loses sight of those who put their trust in Him, and that however far and wide things may deviate from our calculations and plans, they will be more wisely ordered, and eventually will turn out for the best. You will not have much opportunity for reading, but yon may do much with your music if there is a piano in the house, and at any rate with yom 1G6 LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE. guitar. I will send yon, if I have an opportunity, a beautiful son g suited to your voice, called ' The Angels* Whisper.' it has a great run here, and has lately been reprinted. There is a phrenologist in town to whom Ellen, Mary. Mr. Lane, and Mr. Heard, with many there, have been, and his reports have really been wonderful. Susan came to-day for Ellen to go with her ; she is very full of it — how I wish you were here to go also. I would give a great deal to have my opinion confirmed by a man who goes to work so sci- fically. He says that a small organ kept in con- stant exercise will produce greater effect than one more fully developed that is neglected ; so you see, Miss, if your memory is small, exercise will strengthen it. Ql in reading I do not understand what I read, in fact, it makes no impn Bsi< □ upon my brain; but reading it over perhaps nee, i >r twice, or even more times, the ideas arrange themselves in such beautiful orckr, so clear, so inct, that I know it is nothing but the loss of my memory which has occasioned the difficulty at first • A word to the wise.* so ' go thou and do like- •• You have a whole cargo of letters directed to Dori- : nville. that I know of, and no doubt some from Virginia that I do not. Eden wrote you a long letter full of news and gossip, I have written two besides this, and Susan wrote to you ; write to her without receive her letter. In scenes so new and age you cannot be at a loss for material, and trav- elling certainly does expand the mind ; it gives it ideas, even poetical ones : but reading and good society must furnish language worthy of them, else we can not do LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 167 justice to our own minds. Ideas, in themselves beaut> ful and original, are frequently so mangled and muti- lated by inadequate expressions of them, in language inappropriate, that we can never make our strength known, from the impossibility of doing justice to our own conceptions. I am sorry I have mislaid my close lines, for my paper is drawing to a close, and I have yet much to say ; but I must still repeat, make your- self easy in your present residence. They are Vir- ginians, whose hospitality is drawn in with their mothers 1 milk ; and how often have w r e, dear Septimia, asked strangers to our house who have staid witli us, not weeks, but months, and even years ; yet when they were amiable we have often deeply regretted their departure ; and this not of solitary individuals, but families. " Mary will write to you next week ; she would have done so sooner, but that I have written every week for the last three. I hope you will get the letters; it would be a pity to lose so much news, gossip, advice, and other interesting and valuable matter. With regard to Mrs. E. — 'In Turkey you know you must do as the turkeys do.' You know the quotation. " Cornelia was still with Mrs. Madison when I heard from her, the 7th. Mr. M. is much as usual; sinking by imperceptible degrees. He is so feeble that he can just walk. I think that when she loses him, she will probably remove to Washington. " Adieu ! Write often and fully, to me as careless- lessly as you please ; but to correspondents out of the family be more careful not to mix the subjects higglety* 163 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. pigglety like a rnince pie, but give to each distinct and separate places, not bringing in the ' pig-tail ' at every other line. To me, dear child, write as carelessly as you please ; tell me every thing that concerns you, and how you will; every thing about you interests and amuses me ; if you stay to arrange your periods and smooth your style, you will neither have time nor in- clination to write as long letters as you can when you let your pen, like your tongue, run on its own way. God bless you, and preserve you to your owti devoted mother. Say every thing that is kind and respectful from me to Mr. and Miss Willis ; thank them from me for harboring you in your distress, for I do not know what your situation would have been in a land of strangers, but for their kind attention in offering you an asylum. Once more adieu." " My mother survived her father upward of ten years, and her husband about eight years ; during that period losing a grown son, James Madison Randolph, born in the President's House. ' : In the autumn after my grandfather's death, she went to Boston, and passed the winter in the house of her son-in-law, Mr. Joseph Coolidge, of that city, hav- ing with her the two youngest children, Septimia and George Wythe, who went to day schools during that winter. Septimia was the only one of her daughters who ever went to school at all ; my other sisters and my- self having our education conducted by our mother ; she being our only teacher, assisted somewhat by her lather. The following summer she accompanied my LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 169 sister, Mrs. Coolidge, to Cambridge, where the twc children again attended day-schools. My eldest "broth er, Mr. Jefferson Randolph, was his grandfather's ex ecutor; he had been in all business affairs the staff ot his declining years, and afterward became a father to his younger brothers. The sale of furniture, pictures, and other movables at Monticello took place the win- ter following my grandfather's death, after my mother's departure for Boston. The rest of the family passed that winter in my brother's house, then the ensuing summer at Monticello, a purchaser for which could not be found until two years or more after. My mother remained in Cambridge the second winter, as a board- er, with her two children, in the family of Mr. Stearns, law-professor of Harvard College, to whose excellent family she became much attached. " My sister Cornelia went to join her in Cambridge, and the two were alternately in Boston and Cambridge, the one with Mrs. Coolidge, and the other with the children. " In the spring of 1828, my mother returned to Monticello, accompanied by Cornelia and Septimia, leaving my brother at a boarding school in the country near Cambridge. This being their first separation, it was felt most acutely on both sides, for he, just ten years old, was an unusually sensitive and warm- hearted boy, and as the 'youngling of her flock,' was the darling; of her heart. He was to remain behind among strangers, whilst his mother, the object of his passionate fondness and devoted attachment, was to return without him to that dear old home he so well I ~ . LADIES 01 THE WHITE HOUSE. Land ] veA. My mother, on her return to :: rilo after an absence of eighteen months, found my lath i ill. He 1 m a part of the previous winter in Georgia, engaged as commissi r on the part of the Unite I States in esfcal listing a boundary line between the and Florida. His letters spoke of L'_ Ing the climate, and he enjoyed also the opportunities which he there found of gratifying his fondness for botanical stndi : but he returned home in very bad health, and after a few months of se- vere suffer::, lied on the 20th of June, 1 ■_ in hia sixtieth year. Monticello was sold the fol- lowing winter. My mother took leave of her beloved home in December — that home which had been the scene of her happv: bene she had err her dear fat:, i - ty, and been the solace of his age; her children had been, most of them, born and grown up around her, and where her own y childhood had 1 re the death of : mother. She reniov ifch her family to the house of her son Jefferson. My mother lived a year with mv brother's family, during which time she formed a plan f keeping - .. I for young ladies, assisted by her unmarried daugl who were to be teachers under her superintendeL-Cr. ] . however, ren- dered unnecessary by the donations so generously made her by the States of South Carolina and Louisi- ana, : $1 . each. About this time, also Mr. Ciay, A aS retary «: I . prompted by the wish to do something in ai:; .: Mr. Jefferson's daughter, offered LADIES OF THE WHITE H0F3E. 171 to my husband, who had just then commenced the practice of the law, one of the higher clerkships in the' State Department, w T ith a salary of $1,400. This offer was accepted by him, with the understanding that my mother and sisters would go with us to live in Wash- ington as one family. In the autumn of 1829, we bade adieu to our native mountains, and removed to Wash- ington. We occupied a small house with a pretty garden, pleasantly situated, where we lived together, forming one family, consisting of seven grown persons and four children, the two youngest being my own, and the other two orphans of my eldest sister, w r ho had been taken by their grandmother to her home at Monticello while her father was still living. " Upon her arrival in Washington, my mother w r as visited by every body, and received the most marked attentions. The President and the Heads of Depart- ments called upon her ; the lady of the White House of that day, Mrs. Donelson, and the wives of the cab- inet ministers laid aside etiquette, and paid her the respect of a first call. " G-eneral Jackson, during the whole time of her res- idence in Washing-ton, never omitted making her a visit once a year, accompanied usually by the Secre- tary of State. As a tribute to her father's memory, these marks of respect were peculiarly gratifying. Her disposition was naturally cheerful and social, though she w 7 as not dependent on society for happiness. Her habits of regular occupation, possessing as she did various tastes, the cultivation of which afforded her variety, and increased her interest in life; and sur- 172 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. rounded as she was by a large, cheerful family circle, she lived contentedly in the country, even during the winters at Monticello, which were seldom enlivened by visitors. That season was devoted principally to the education of her children ; the constant crow T ds of vis- itors during the rest of the year leaving her very little time not engrossed by household cares, arising from the duties of hospitality. " During the years which she passed in Washington, she resumed many of her old occupations ; her taste for flowers revived, and good music afforded her en- joyment, although she no longer played much herself after my grandfather's death. Her habits of reading she never lost, and she always began the day with some chapter of the New Testament. She was an early riser in summer and in Avinter. She liked an east window in her bedroom, because it enabled her to read in bed before the household were stirring. Every year she visited alternately my elder brother at his residence near Monticello, in the southwest moun- tains of Virginia, or my sister, Mrs. Joseph Coolidge, in Boston. " In the spring of 1831 she was called on to make a painful sacrifice, such as mothers only can appreci- ate — she gave her consent to George's entering the na- vy, After passing a winter with her in Washington, he had entered a school near the University of Vir- ginia, when a midshipman's warrant was procured for him. At his boarding-school in Massachusetts, his con- O 7 duct had gained for him the respect, confidence, and good-will of all, teachers and associates ; but he was LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 173 yet a mere child, and his mother's heart sickened at the thought of his going forth alone to encounter the naval perils as well as brave the hardships of a sea-faring life She had, however, the fortitude to approve of what was judged best for his future, and her sorrow was borne with the patient and cheerful resignation which belonged to her character. "The recollection of that parting as a trial for her, stirs up, even at this distance of time, the long dormant feelino-s which I thought my last tear had been shed for You, dear madam, will excuse this revival ot in- cidents not required for your sketch, and will use such things only as may have an interest for the public. His "first cruise lasted eighteen months, in the U. fc. ship John Adams, which went up the Mediterranean as far as Constantinople ; and one of its incidents was the breaking out of the cholera on board. He got back to us safely, however, and my mother was reward- ed for her sufferings by the encomiums elicited by his conduct and character from the officers under whom he had served, and their predictions as to the useful and honorable career which lay before him. She continued to hear him highly spoken of, and to learn that he was respected by all who knew him, and that his leisure hours on board the ship were devoted to reading and study. In the interval between his cruises, he was to stay with her in Washington. « In the second year of her residence there, she had the happiness of having my brother Lewis another of her younger children, added to her family. He ob- tained a clerkship, which afforded him a post whilst 174 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. he was qualifying himself for the practice of the law, and he remained with us until his marriage, which took place a few years later. He was highly gifted, remark- ably handsome, and shone in the social circle, but never formed one of the idle throng always to be found in cities. Very domestic in his tastes and habits, his lei- sure hours were divided between his professional studies and associates belonodns; to the circle in which his family moved. He married Miss Martin, a niece of Mrs. Donelson, with whom he became acquainted at the ' White House,' where she was staying. He then moved to the young state of Arkansas, where a promising career at the bar was cut short by an early death from congestive fever, less than a year after iiis mother's death. " In the summer of 1832, my mother parted with the orphan grand-daughter, Ellen Bankhead, whom she had adopted, and who, being then married to Mr. John Carter of Albemarle, returned to live on his estate in his native mountains, and among the scenes of her childhood. Willie, her little orphan brother, was about that time claimed by his paternal grandfather, and placed at a day-school near him. In the following spring, Mr. Trist purchased a house into which we all moved. I think my mother felt more at home in this pleasant, new abode than she had ever done since leav- ing Monticello. The house had been built by Mr. Richard Rush, our Minister to England for many years, and when we first moved to Washington, was occupied by this gentleman and his lovely wife and family. It was a spacious dwelling, admirably planned and built, with a large garden and out-buildings, the whole en LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 175 closed by a high brick wall. There the last three years of my mother's life were spent, although her death took place suddenly at Edgehill, my brother's residence in Virginia. " The winter preceding bad been marked by the death of my brother, James Madison Randolph, who had just completed his 27th year. He was buried at Monticello on a cold day in January. I remember the negroes assembled there, and made a fire to keep them warm while they waited for the procession which fol- lowed him to his early grave, who, they said, was the ' black man's friend,' and would have shared his last cent with one of them. At the time of our removal to that pleasant new home, my brother-in-law, Mr. Joseph Coolidge, of Boston, having gone to China, was engaged in business in Canton ; his family remain- ing in Boston. In the summer of 1834, and during the absence of her husband, my sister paid \u a visit, passing the summer in Virginia at my brother's, and the following winter with us in Washington. On that oc- casion, my mother had all her daughters with her for the last time ; and Lew T is, yet unmarried, was still liv- ing with her. The season was remarkable for its se- verity, the thermometer falling so low as 16° below zero, on a gallery with a southern exposure of our house, and so late even as the 1st day of March, stood at zero — the snow a foot deep in the garden. Soon af- ter the purchase of that house, Mr. Trist, whose health had been very delicate, was appointed by General Jackson to be United, States Consul at Havana, which post had become vacant by the death of Mr. Shaler, J 76 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. long distinguished as our Consul at Algiers. He pro- ceeded there alone, and in the summer returned to Washington. After remaining with us a few months, he again went to Havana alone to pass one more win ter there, and then return to take charge of the office of First Comptroller of the Treasury, which General Jackson had tendered to him. He was still in Havana in the spring of 1835, when my brother Lewis left us to be married in Tennessee, and Mr. Coolidge arrived from China and came immediately to Washington, where his wife and family were still staying with us He found my mother slowly recovering from a verv severe illness, considered by our friend and physician. Dr. Hall, as a ' breaking uj} of her constitution,' 1 and which was regarded by my brothers, Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin (who repaired from their homes in Virginia to their mother's bedside), as seriously alarm- ing. She, however, recovered to a certain point, but never perfectly. Mr. Coolidge and my sister with their children returned to Boston, whilst my mother was to follow them as soon as she was able to travel. Accordingly, when her strength became sufficiently restored, she made the journey, going from Washing ton to Baltimore by steamer down the Potomac and up the Chesapeake Bay, she not having strength for the stage-coach ride of forty miles, then the only di- rect public conveyance between the two cities. My sister Mary accompanied her, and she reached Boston safely. Mr. Trist returned from Havana in August after my mother's departure. He had then decided, most reluctantly yielding to the advice of his physi LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 177 cian, to prolong his residence in Havana : his continu ance in that climate for several years being judged es- sential to his recovery from an affection of the throat, of which there were at that period a number of fetal cases. That winter, instead of accompanying my hus- band on his return to Havana, as I should have wished I had to take up my abode in Philadelphia to be near our little mute son Thomas Jefferson, whom I entered — the youngest pupil there— as a boarder at the insti- tution for deaf-mutes. This last winter of her life my mother passed in Boston with but two of her chil- dren near her : Mrs. Coolidge and Mary — the others scattered far away from her, fortunately for their peace of mind unconscious how soon the last parting was to come. My own departure for Havana the following autumn was decided on, but dreaded by all — still nearer was that other parting scene at which we were to meet no more on earth. "In the month of May, 1836, my mother left Eos- ton for Virginia, accompanied by my sister Mary. A final adieu it proved to her daughter, Mrs. Coolidge— her favorite child, it was generally thought, but we never felt jealous of her. Our family was, I think, a very united one. On her journey south, she passed some weeks in Philadelphia on a visit ,to her sister-in- law, Mrs. Hackley, the mother of Mrs. Cutts. I was still in Philadelphia with my little deaf-mute boy, and it was on that occasion that this precious portrait was secured by my prevailing on her to sit to Mr. Sully, then considered the best female portrait painter in our country. Twenty years previously, Mr. Sully had 12 178 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. passed some time as a guest at Monticello, haviug been employed to make a portrait of my grandfather for the Military Academy at West Point. Since that time my mother had changed very much. Mr. Sully had then found her living with her dear father in that hap- py home, surrounded by a large, cheerful family-circle unbroken by death. But in the long interval, many of its members had been taken away, and grief had left its traces not less plainly stamped upon her face than age. She was thinner and more feeble than I had ever seen her — it was just six months before her death. I accompanied her to Mr. Sully's studio for her first sitting, and as she took her seat before him she said playfully : ' Mr. Sully, I shall never forgive you if you paint me with wrinkles.' I quickly interposed, — • Paint her just as she is, if you please, Mr. Sully, the pic- ture is for me.' He said, ' I shall paint you, Mrs. Ran- dolph, as I remember you twenty years ago." He ap- proved of her dress, particularly a large cape worn by old ladies, and requested her not to make any change in it. The picture does represent her twenty years young- er than when she sat to him, but it failed to restore the embonpoint, and especially the expression of health and cheerful, even joyous, vivacity, which her countenance then habitually wore. . While she was sitting for her portrait, her youngest daughter, Septimia, arrived by sea from Pensacola, where she had been taken by Mr. Trist to pass the winter with some friends, soon after which my mother pursued her journey to Virginia, ac- companied by Mary and Septimia. "Mr. Trist returned in August, and I set out with LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 179 him in September for Virginia to take leave of my friends. On our arrival at Washington, finding Gen- eral Jackson there alone in the White House — soon to set out for Tennessee, where his family had preceded him — the General expressed a wish for my husband's company during the days he might still be detained there. This being acceded to, I pursued my journey alone, little dreaming that this detention of a few days was to deprive my husband of ever again seeing my mother, between whom and himself the warmest at- tachment existed. On reaching Edgehill, I found them all assembled under my brother's roof, soon to travel together northward again before the separation so dreaded by us all. My mother and Mary were to pass the winter with Mrs. Coolidge, in Boston, whilst Cornelia and Septimia were to accompany me to Ha- vana. I found my mother still looking very delicate and troubled with sore throat, for which a gargle had been prescribed by my brother, Dr. Benjamin F. Ran- dolph. She complained of a vertigo when she threw back her head in using it. The day appointed for our departure being close at hand, she had exerted herself more than usual in packing a trunk ; the following- day she had a sick-headache and kept her bed. She had all her life been subject to these headaches, but within the last few years had ceased to have them. One of my sisters expressed the hope that their recur- rence might be a favorable symptom, a proof of re- turning vigor, as she had not had any thing of the sort since her illness eighteen months before, in Washing- ton. We watched by her bedside, though feeling no 180 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. alarm at an affection which we had always "been accns« iomed to see her suffer with for several days at a time. One of my sisters slept in the room with her, and be- fore parting with her for the night, I gave my mother some arrow-root. Early next morning I was called and told she was worse. I hurried to her bedside but was too late to be recognized, a blue shade passed over the beloved face ; it was gone and she lay as in sleep. but life had gone too. It was apoplexy. She died on the 10th of October, 1836, having just completed her sixty-fourth year on the 27th of September, ten years and three months after her father, and was laid by his side in the grave-yard at Monticello. v .'^'.v:,.,:.-.- LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 181 MRS. DOLLY P. MADISON. Washixgto^" Ikying, in one of his letters, has given an amusing account of his troubles in Washing- ton, in preparing to attend a levee given by President Madison. After a ludicrous description of his vexa tions, he says, he finally emerged into the blazing splendor of Mrs. Madison's drawing-room. Here he was most graciously received, and found a crowded collection of great and little men, of ugly and old women, and beautiful young ones. Mrs. Madison, he adds, was a fine, pretty, buxom dame, who had a smile and a pleasant word for every body. Her sisters, Mrs. Cutts and Mrs. "Washington, were also present on this occasion, and looked " like the merry wives of Windsor." Dorothy Payne, the second child of John and Mary Coles Payne, was born the 20th of May, 1772. Her mother was a daughter of William Coles, Esq., of Cole3 Hill; and was a lady of pleasing social manners. The family were Virginians, and though Mis. Madison was born in the State of North Caroli- na, she ever prided herself on a title so dear to all its possessors : that of being a daughter of the old com- monwealth. Her parents removed to Philadelphia when she was quite young, and joined the Society of Friends at that place. Here their little daughter was 182 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. reared according to the strict system of the society, and by example and precept taught to ignore all those graceful accomplishments deemed so necessary in the formation of a woman's education. Attired in the close-fitting dress of her order, she would demurely attend to the duties imposed upon her, and the won- derful undertone of sweetness in her character kept the brow serene, and the heart ever bright and hope- ful. Hers was a sunny elastic nature, even a3 a child ; and if she was not permitted to learn the worldly arts she desired, her disposition was not soured by these re- strictions, and the inner graces which afterward made her famous, blossomed and bloomed in native harmony. Nothing could conceal her beautiful character. Nor could the quaint bonnet of the Friends hide her spark- ling eye3 and perfectly rounded features from the ad- miring gaze of her young acquaintances. At the age of nineteen she wa3 married to John Todd, a rising young lawyer of Philadelphia and a member of the Society of Friends. Her father had manumitted his slaves when he moved to the city, and Miss Payne was accustomed to a life of simplicity and plentifulness, but never to even comparative wealth. Nor was she re- markable for her literary abilities or acquired attain- ments; but her warm heart beamed goodness from her expressive lips and lent a fascination to her frank, earnest face. After her union with Mr. Todd, her time was spent in her modest home according to the seclud- ed manner of her sect, and during her short married life she pursued the even tenor of her quiet way, un- conscious of her rapidly unfolding beauty, or of the LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 183 admiration it was exciting. Soon she was left a widow with, an infant son, and made her home with hei widowed mother. The personal charms of the young widow, united as they were, with manners cordial, frank, and gay. excited the admiration and awakened the kind feelings of all who came within their influence, and unaided by :he extrinsic and accidental advantages of fortune or fashion, she became a general favorite, and the object not only of admiration, but of serious and devoted attachment. In October, 1794, Mrs. Todd wa3 married to Mr. Madison, then one of the most talented members of Congress, a statesman of wealth and social position, and withal a great and good man. She had been a widow less than a year, and was at the time of her second marriage in the twenty-third year of her age. The ceremony was performed at " Harewood," Jeffer- son County, Virginia, the residence of her younger sister, Lucy, the wife of George Steptoe Washington. From this time forward, she lived at " Montpelier, 11 the rural home of Mr. Madison, until he was called aofain to public life. It was at this time of her life that she developed the loveliest traits of her noble character. Placed in a position where she could command re- sources, the warmth and generosity of her nature was displayed, not in lavish personal expenditures, but in dispensing the bounties bestowed upon her to all who came as suppliants, and in giving to her widowed mother and orphaned sisters a home. The blessings of her kindred, and the fond love of her husband, IS4 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOU3E. gladdened these, the first years of her married life , and her relatives and friends were made partakers of her abundance; while the tender attentions of Mr Madison to her aged mother filled her heart to reple- tion. Had she not been placed in a position harmo- nious to her nature, it is probable that her days would have been spent in indifferent adherence to a dull routine, and the rills of her heart which bubbled and sang so gleefully in the summer of her content, never been discovered beneath the weight of circumstances. Fortunately hers was a disposition to rightfully appre- ciate the gifts of fortune and social consideration, and, in accepting her bright future prospects, determined to nourish the smothered generousness of her soul. Hitherto her lot had been circumscribed and the lofty emotions of her heart been hushed ; but when the power was given her to do good, she filled the meas ure of her life with the benedictions of humanity, and reigned in the affections of her friends without a rival. Mr. Jefferson appointed Mr. Madison Secretary of State in 1801, and in April of that year he removed with his family to Washington. Here her position was in perfect accordance with her disposition, and her house was a radiating point for every acquaintance. The great secret of her success lay in the innocence, which dwelt in her noble nature ; and this nobleness of innocence underlaid the dignity and high-minded- ness w T hich attested an elevated nature. She drank the wine of human existence without the lees, and inhaled the perpetual breath of summer, even after LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 185 the snows of winter had closed the dull course of life. She was gifted with that which was better than Ithuriel's spear, whose touch reveals the beauty which existed in every thing, for she was humble-hearted, tolerant, and sincere. Entirely free from malignant cavil, her instinctive sympathy with the good and beautiful led her to seek it in every thing around her, and her life, if not devoted to the higher cultivation of the mind, developed the sunny brightness of her heart. The power of adaptiveness was a life-giving principle in Mrs. Madison's nature. With a desire to please, and a willingness to be pleased, she was pop- ular in society, and was to her husband a support and friend. Washington was little more than a wilderness when, in the spring, she commenced life there as the wife of a cabinet officer. The elements which com- bined to form the society of the Capital were various, and difficult to harmonize, and her situation was a del- icate one to fill ; yet she was loved by all parties, and embittered politicians who never met save at her hos- pitable board, there forgot " the thorns of public con- troversy under the roses of private cheerfulness." In those days, steamboats were iust besinnino;, railroads unknown, stage-coaches extremely inconvenient, na- tional, indeed even turnpike roads were very rare, and the journeys were mostly performed in the saddle. The daughter of one of the Senators, who wished to enjoy the gayeties of the Capital, accompanied her father five hundred miles on horseback. The wife of another member not only rode fifteen hundred miles on horse- back, but passed through several Indian settlements. 186 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. for many nights without a house to lodge in. Mrs. Madison herself had travelled from her Virginia home by easy stages, cumbered with household furniture, and stopping on the road to visit relatives ; occupying what seems to us at this day an incredible length of time to perform such a journey. Her house, after the President's, was the resort of most company, and the cordial manners of the hostess lent a peculiar charm to the frequent parties there assembled. " Individuals who never visited at the President's, nor met at the other ministerial houses, could not resist the softening influ- ences of her conciliatory disposition, of her frank and gracious manners, but frequented her evening circle, and sat at her husband's table." Political feuds ran high, and party spirit was more virulent than ever before experienced. Washington's administration had been a success, and in the eyes of the public he was not in- cluded in any party, but was above them all. Yet he placed himself, when the question was of a political order, under the banner of the republican party, and " was the declared advocate of the unity and force of the central power." He insured its triumph during his two terms, and let his mantle descend upon one of his most attached Mends. The democratic party, de- siring the rule of the majority, opposed to the pre- ponderance of the higher classes, and to aristocratic tendencies, overcame the successor of "Washington, who was succeeded by Mr. Jefferson, the leader of the op- position. At the commencement of this era, Mrs. Madison appeared upon the scene, and gave to her husband that support which enhanced his popularity LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 187 as a public man, and made his house the most popular place of resort in the city. During his eight years' life as Secretary of State, she dispensed with no nig- gard hand the abundant wealth she rightly prized, and the poor of the District loved her name as a household deity. In 1810, Mr. Madison was elected President, and after Mr. Jefferson left the city, he re- moved to the White House. Under the former ad- ministration, Mrs. Madison had, during the absences of Mr. Jefferson's daughters, presided at the receptions and levees, and was in every particular fitted to adorn her position as hostess of the mansion she was called to preside over. Every one in Washington felt that her watchful care and friendly interest w r ould be in no wise diminished by her advancement to a higher po- sition ; and the magical effects of her snuff box were as potent in one capacity as another. The forms and ceremonials which had rendered the drawing-rooms of Mrs. Washington and Mrs. Adams dull and tedious, were laid aside, and no kind of stiffness was permitted. Old friends were not forgotten, or new ones courted ; but mild and genial to all, each person felt himself the object of special attention, and all left her presence pleased and gratified with her urbanity and refinement. Possessing a most retentive memory, she never mis- called a name, or forgot the slightest incident connected with the personal history of any one ; and therefore impressed each individual with the idea of their im- portance in her esteem. Mrs. Madison's sole aim was to be popular and render her husband's administration brilliant and successful. Her field was the parlor; 1SS LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE, and with the v: : eigning supreme there, she bent f her mind to the one idea of accom plishrnent. In her thirty-seventh year she entered the White House. Still youthful in appearance, denied the care? of maternity, which destroys the "bloom of beauty on the delicate faces of American women, she as- sumed her agreeable position with no encumbrances, no in perfect health, the possessor of great beauty of feature and form, and eminently happy in the sincere regard of her husband. Contentment crowned her lot tees, and the first four years of her stay most have been one oontimi With all her appreciation of admiration, she was not extravagant : her house, during the time of Mr. JerTer. ; n's term, was very plainly furnished, and in no way elegant. Like most Virginians, she delighted in ay, and her home was the most h sg ital . at :»de in Washington. Her table was her pride; and : undance of dishes, and their size, was a subject of ridicule to a foreign minister, who observed "thai it was more like a harvest-home supper, than the entertainment of a Sec- retary of State." She heard of this and similar re- marks, and only observed wit j.ile, "that she thought abundance referable to elegance; that Distances formed customs, and customs formed the profusion 90 repugnant to foreign customs arose from the happy circumstance of the super- abundance and prosperity of our country, she did not Lesi: icrifice the delicacy of European taste for the less elegant, but more liberal fashion of Virginia/' But this time of prosperity : md warinso- LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 189 tiatc was already treading upon the shores of the At- lantic. Mr. Madison, the peace-loving, humane Execu- tive, was compelled to declare war with Great Britain ; and' after a time its actual presence was felt at the National Capital. June, 1812, is memorable as the second appeal of the United States to arms, to as- sert once more their rights as freemen; and for three years its fierceness was felt from Canada to New Or- leans, and over the blue waters of the oceans of the world. « Generous British sentiments revolted at the de- struction of the American Capital : which might not have been branded with universal infamy if confined to navy yards, warlike implements, vessels of war, and even private rope-walks, if the enormity had stopped there. But no warfare can satisfy its abominable lust with impunity on libraries, public and private, halls of legislation, residences of magistrates, buildings of civil "government, objects of art, seats of peace, and embodiments of rational patriotic pride." "The day before the fall of Washington was one of extreme alarm, the Secretary of State wrote to the President: 'the enemy are advanced six miles on the road to the wood-yard, and our troops are retreating. You had better remove the records.' Then com- menced the panic which was destined to grow more general the coming day. Tuesday night, every clerk was busy packing and aiding iu the removal of valu- ables. Coarse linen bags were provided, and late in the evening, after all the work was over, and tbe bags were hanging round the room, ready at a moment^ 190 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. warning to be moved, Mr. Pleasanton, one of the clerks, procured conveyances, and crossing the Poto- mac deposited them in a mill three miles off. But fearing for their safety, he determined to go farther into the interior, and the next night slept at Leesburg, a small town thirty-five miles from Washington. The light that shone against the cloudless sky revealed the fate of the city, and the doom of his charge had they delayed. Amongst the documents were the original Declaration of Independence, the Federal Constitution, and General Washington's commission as Commander- in-Chief of the Army of the Revolution, which he re- linquished when he resigned it at Annapolis, (found among the rubbish of a garret). Scarcely had the wagon that bore the papers crossed the wooden bridge of the Potomac, than crowds of flying fugitives, men, women, and children, pressed upon it in such numbers as to render the threatened danger almost imminent. The frightened multitude swayed to and fro, seeking means of escape till night closed the horri- ble drama ; then upon Capitol Hill appeared the red- coated soldiery of the British army. -The sun sank beneath the golden sheen of fleecy clouds that floated softly over the southern horizon, but the going down of the king of day in no wise relieved the atmosphere. Dust and heat were intolerable, and a rumor that the water was poisoned rendered the sufferings of the weary soldiers painful in the extreme. For the sev- enth time that day, a retreat was commanded, and the city troops, mortified and enraged, refused to obey. Back from the city to the heights of Georgetown was LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 191 the order ; but how could they leave their families, their homes and property, and march by those they were sworn to protect ! Down the long, broad, and solitary avenue past the President's now deserted house, through Georgetown, and some as far as Tenlytown, the disorganized, demoralized remnant of the army strayed, and slept on the ground, lighted up by the fiery red glare from the burning buildings in Washing- ton. All night they lay alarmed and distressed, while but few could steal a moment's repose. The bursting shells in the navy yard were heard for miles, and each boom was a knell to the a^onizinsr hearts, who knew not where their helpless ones were in this hour of horrors. " When the British marched slowly into the wil- derness city, by the lurid light that shot up from the blazing capitol, the population had -dwindled down to a few stragglers and the slaves of the absent residents. The houses, scattered over a large space, were shut, and no Biffn of life was visible. The President had crossed the Potomac early in the afternoon, and Mrs. Madison had followed in another direction. The bayonets of the British guard gleamed as they filed down the ave- nue, and the fulminations from the navy yard saluted them as they passed. Nothing but the prayers and entreaties of the ladies, and the expostulations of the nearest residents, deterred the British General Ross from blowing up the Capitol ; but he ordered it to be fired at every point, and many houses near it were consumed. A house hard by, owned by General Washington, was destroyed, which, in justice to human 192 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. nature be it said, the General regretted. Not so the Admiral, who ordered the troops to fire a volley in the windows of the Capitol and then entered to plun- der. " I have, indeed, to this hour, (said Mr. Richard Rush, in 1855) the vivid impression upon my eye of columns of flame and smoke ascending throughout the night of the 24th of August from the Capitol, Presi- dent's house, and other public edifices, as the whole were on fire, some burning slowly, others with bursts of flame and sparks mounting high up in the dark horizon. This never can be forgotten by me, as I ac- companied out of the city, on that memorable night in 1814, President Madison, Mr. Jones, then Secretary of the Navy, General Mason, of Anaeostia Island, Mr. Charles Carroll, of Bellevue, and Mr. Tench Ringgold. If at intervals the dismal sight was lost to our view, we got it again from some hill-top or eminence where we paused to look at it." It was anion? the stories when Congress met near the ruins three weeks afterward, that the Admiral in a strain of coarse levity, mounting the speaker's chair put the question, " Shall this harbor of Yankee democ- racy be burned ? " and when the mock resolution was declared unanimous, it was carried into effect by heap- ing combustibles under the furniture. The temporary wooden structure connecting: the two win^rs, readilv kindled. Doors, chairs, the library and its contents, in an upper room of the senate-wing, every thing that would take fire, soon disappeared in sheets of flame, illuminating and consternating the environs for thirty LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 193 miles around, whence the conflagration was visible. Through " the eternal Pennsylvania Avenue," the Ad- miral and General led their elated troops, where but a few hours before the flying, scattered Americans, dis- mayed, ashamed, and disgusted, had wended their sor- rowing way. The Capitol behind them was wrapt in its winding robes of flame, and on through the darl ness they passed to that other house of the nation. An aged lady lived in the nearest residence to the Presidential Mansion, and here the ruffianly Coekburn and the quiet, sad General Ross halted and ordered supper, which they ate by the light of the burning buildings. A letter written by Mrs. Madison to her sister at Mount Vernon, gives us an insight into her feelings, although only detached items can be given. " Tuesday, August 23d, 1814. "Dear Sister: — My husband left me yesterday morning to join General Winder. He inquired anx- iously whether I had courage or firmness to remain in the President's House until his return, on the morrow or succeeding day, and on my assurance that I had no fear but for him and the success of our army, he left me, beseeching me to take care of myself, and of the Cabinet papers, public and private. I have since re- ceived two dispatches from him written with a pencil ; the last is alarming, because he desires that I should be ready at a moment's warning to enter my carriage and leave the city : that the enemy seemed stronger than had been reported, and that it might happen that 13 194 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. they would reach the city with intention to destroy it * * * lam accordingly ready ; I have pressed as many Cabinet papers into trunks as to fill one car- riage ; our private property must be sacrificed, as it is impossible to procure wagons for its transportation. I am determined not to go myself, until I see Mr. Madison safe and he can accompany me, — as I hear of much hostility toward him. * * * Disaffection stalks around us. * * My friends and acquaint- ances are all gone, even Colonel C, with his hundred men, who were stationed as a guard in this enclosure. * " . French John (a faithful domestic) with his usual activity and resolution, offers to spike the cannon at the gate, and lay a train of powder which would blow up the British, should they enter the house. To the last proposition I positively object, without being able. however, to make him understand wliy all advantages in war may not be taken. "Wednesday morning, twelve o'clock. — Since sun- rise I have been turning my spy-glass in every direc- tion and watching with unwearied anxiety, hoping to discover the approach of my dear husband and his friends ; but, alas ! I can descry only groups of military wandering in all directions, as if there was a lack of arms, or of spirits, to fight for their own firesides ! " Three o'clock. — Will you believe it, my sister ? we have had a battle or skirmish near Bladensburgh, and I am still here within sound of the cannon ! Mr. Madison comes not ; may God protect him ! Two messengers covered with dust come to bid me fly ; but T wait for him. * * * At this late hour a wag- LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 195 oil has been procured ; I have had it filled with the plate and most valuable portable articles belonging to the house ; whether it will reach its destination, the Bank of Maryland, or fall into the hands of British soldiery, events must determine. Our kind friend, Mr. Carroll, has come to hasten my departure, and is in a very bad humor with me because I insist on waiting until the large picture of General Washington is se- cured, and it requires to be unscrewed from the wall. This process was found too tedious for these perilous moments ; I have ordered the frame to be broken and the canvas taken out ; it is done — and the precious portrait placed in the hands of two gentlemen of New York for safe keeping. And now, my dear sister, I must leave this house, or the retreating army will make me a prisoner in it, by filling up the road I am di- rected to take. When I shall again write to you, or where I shall b?. to-morrow, I cannot tell ! " On the removal of the seat of government to Washington, in 1800, a magnificent portrait of General Washington, painted by Stuart partly, and completed by Winstanley, to whom President John Adams' son-in-law, Colonel Smith, stood for the unfinished limbs and body, liung in the state dining-room. Colo- nel W. P. Custis, of Arlington, a grandson of Mrs. Washington, called at the President's to save this pic- ture of his illustrious grandfather, in whose house he was reared. Then, as now, it was one of the very few ornaments which adorned the White House, and at the risk of capture Mrs. Madison determined to save it. The servants of the house broke with an axe the 196 LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE. heavy gilt frame which protected the inner one of wood, upon which the canvas was stretched, and re- moved, uninjured, the painting, leaving the broken fragments screwed to the wall, which had held dis- tended the valued relic. Mrs. Madison then left the house, and the portrait was taken whole in the inner frame by Mr. Baker beyond Georgetown and placed in a secure position. "The Presidential househokWod, the inia^e of the Father of his Country — by whom its chief city was fixed near his home, and by whose name it was called — was thus snatched from the clutch or torch of the barbarian captors."" Half a century later, when the White House was undergoing a renovation, this por- trait was sent, with many others subsequently added to this solitary collection, to be cleaned and the frame burnished. The artist found on examination that the canvas had never been cut. since the rusted tacks, time-worn frame, and the size compared with the or- iginal picture, was the most conclusive evidence that Mrs. Madison did not cut it out with a carving-knife, as many traditions have industriously circulated. The frame was a large one, hanging high on the wall, and it was impossible that *a lady could by mounting a table be enabled to reach any but the lower portion ; then, too, in that moment of nervous alarm, the constant noise of cannon filling each heart with dread, it seems improbable that any hand, above all a woman's, could be steady enough to cut, without ruining the canvas. Again, from the lips of a descendant, the assurance LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 197 is given that Mrs. Madison repeatedly asserted that she did not cut it, but only lingered to see it safely re- moved before she stepped into her waiting carriage and was driven rapidly toward Georgetown. First to the residence of the Secretary of the Navy, then to Belleview, and joined by the family of Mr. Jones and Mr. Carroll, returned to town insisting that her terrified coachman should take her back toward the President's house to look for Mr. Madison, whom she unexpectedly found near the lower bridge, attended by Mr. Monroe and Mr. Rush, who had reached the White House soon after she left it and stopped for re- freshments. It has been related that the British found a sump- tous meal smoking on the table when thev reached there after dark, and that they enjoyed the iced wines aud cold ham, amusing themselves with the coarse as- sertion that " Jemmy" ran from his bacon " to save his bacon." The low pun found ears ready to credit and cir- culate it, but the porter, who died but a few years since, has repeatedly asserted that the occupants of the house had been in such constant fright that but little had been cooked, and no regular meal partaken of that day ; that there was always plenty in the larder for any emergency, and a wine-cellar kept well stored, but that after the President's party had eaten on their ar- rival, soon after Mrs. Madison's departure, and given the remnants of their hasty meal to the tired, jaded soldiers of Col. Savol's regiment, that there was noth- ing left. Water was furnished the troops in buckets, and ab 198 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. the wine in the house given them. John Siousa, the French porter, after seeing the President and his at- tendants off, took the parrot belonging to Mrs. Madi- son to the residence of Col. Tayloe, and then returned and fastened the house securely and took the keys with him to Philadelphia. All the afternoon, parties of strao-o-ling soldiers, on their way to Georgetown, hung about the house and grounds, and vagrant negroes pil- fered in spite of the efforts of the servants. Many articles were taken from the house to be secured and returned, as some were, but much was never restored. The porter secreted the gold and silver mounted car- bines and pistols of the Algerian minister, which are now in the patent office, but the revolvers belonging to the Secretary of the Treasury, which the President laid on a table, were stolen. Gloating with revenge, at the escape of the Presi- dent and his wife, " whom they wanted to show in Eng land,' 1 the enemy broke open the doors of the White House, and ransacked it from cellar to garret, finding nothing of value, or as objects of curiosity, save a small parcel of the pencil notes received from her hus- band by Mrs. Madison, while he was with the troops, which she had rolled up together and put in a table drawer. To all the rest of the contents : furniture, wines, provisions, groceries, and family stores, which cost Mr. Madison twelve thousand dollars, together with an excellent library, the torch was applied. Fire was procured at a small beer house opposite the Trea- sury to light the buildings with, and while the com- manders were eating their evening meal at the house LADIES OP THE WHITE HOESE. 19S of Mrs. Suter, on the corner, the eomnion aol liera, : - srether with the negroes and thieves of all grades, were pillaging the rapidly burning building?. The "White House was olete then as now; the east room, which had serve! Mrs. Adams for a drying room, was unfurnished and unoc- cupied, and the front vestibule not then added, which so greatly enhances the interior of the present man- sion. The House was plain, unfinished, and totally destitute of ornament, the ground? nninclosed. and materials for building purposes lying scattered about the woods which have since become the ornament this portion of the city. Nothing but the lateness of the hour, and the storm coming on. saved the War De- partment. The squadron which was to have cooper- ated with them, failing to come, filled the officers timorous fear, and they determined to evacuate the city the next day unless it should arrive in the mean time. For over a week the unhappy citizens of Wash- ington had not slept or pursued the avocations of daily life. Constant rumors and frights had unnerved the stoutest hearts, and families fleeing from a foreign foe rendered the situation of those who could not 1 more distressing. Every vehicle had been press to service and valuables scattered over the countr for safety. The city contained about eight thousand in- habitants, living at great distances, of whom n t m than one tenth remained in its limits to se:- the en- trance and exit of the British army. Over the long bridge, until it was in danger of giving way, through the country into the interior of Maryland and beyond 200 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. the Georgetown limits, the flying, frightened people wandered, not caring whither or how they went, so that they escaped from their remorseless foes. It was a whole week, said the aged Mrs. Suter (at whose honse the intruders demanded supper), of great trouble, hardly sleeping at night and all the day spent in fright. After the terrors of that sad week and dreadful day, the capitol and other buildings blazing, the navy yard fearfully exploding, a rain set in which in intensity and duration was scarcely ever witnessed, and which continued during the following day. A British narrator states, B that the most tremendous hur- ricane ever remembered by the oldest inhabitant in the place came on. Of the prodigious force of the wind, it is impossible for you to form any conception. Roofs of houses were torn off by it, and whisked into the air like sheets of paper ; while the rain which accompa- nied it resembled the rushing of a mighty cataract, rather than the dropping of a shower. The darkness was as great as if the sun had long set and the last re- mains of twilight had come on, occasionally relieved by flashes of vivid lightning streaming through it, which together with the noise of the wind and the thunder, the crash of falling buildings, and the tearing of roofs as they were stript from the walls pro- duced the most appalling effect I shall probably ever witness. This lasted for nearly two hours without intermission ; during which time many of the houses spared by us were blown down, and thirty of our men, besides several of the inhabitants, buried be- neath their ruins. Our column was as completely dis- LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE, 201 persed as if it had received a total defeat ; some of the men flying for shelter behind walls and buildings, and others falling flat upon the ground to prevent them- selves from being carried away by the tempest ; nay. such was the violence of the wind that two pieces of cannon which stood upon the eminence, were fairly lifted from the ground and borne several yards to the rear." This second storm, which was most terrifying to the British, unaccustomed as they were to the grand for- ests and heavy rains of America, was, if possible, more destructive than the one of the night before. It commenced about one o'clock in the afternoon and was so awful to the troops that they neglected to fire the post-office, and Congress was thereby saved the neces- sity of being driven to Georgetown or Philadelphia, when it again met in three weeks. After an occupa- tion of twenty-nine hours, the British withdrew and Washington was evacuated. Mrs. Madison, after meeting her husband, accom- panied him to the banks of the Potomac, where one small boat was kept ready — of the many others all sunk or removed but that one — to transport the President, Mr. Monroe, Mr. Push, Mr. Mason, and Mr. Carroll to the Virginia shore. The boat was too small to carry all at once, so that several trips were necessary ; and as the shades of night set in upon them, they looked like departing spirits leaving the world behind, to be fer- ried over an inevitable Styx. Bidding them adieu as the last one entered the frail bark, Mrs. Madison returned tf ■ her friends at Georgetown, but agreeably to her hu^ 202 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. baud's orders, she started on to a more secure retreat. The roads were so blocked with wagons that their progress was very slow, and they left their carriages and walked to relieve their anxiety. Crowds of soldiers, panic- stricken, were retracing their steps to the remnant of troops with General Winder. Families, with their conveyances loaded down with household goods, moved slowly forward, amid the tumult, while the coming darkness increased the general alarm. Long after dark, the party accompanying Mrs. Madison reached the residence of Mr. Love, on the Virginia side of the Potomac, where they begged the privilege of remain- ing all night. There was little need of beds for that agitated band of frightened women, and the ni^ht was passed by some in tears ; by Mrs. Madison in sitting by an open window, gazing back upon the weird and fan- tastic flames as they met and lapped in the far dis- tance. Smothered rambling noises started the listening ear, as ever and anon some huge edifice or wing of a building fell in. The gentlemanly owner of the house was away with the troops, and his wife was ill and alone with her servants, but the sudden visit of so many strangers was no check to the hospitality of the hostess. Every sofa and available substitute was brought into requisition, and all rendered comfortable. Sleep was banished from all eyes, even had any been inclined to repose. The clanking, clattering noise of several hundred disorderly cavalrymen around the house kept every one awake, while all felt the desolate weariness of the nisrht was but a harbinger of the coming day. M What must have been the feelings of LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE- 203 the occupants of that house that summer night, we of the present day cannot realize," writes an eminent his- torian in 184:2 ; but those who had not " fallen asleep'' when the summer of 1862 came upon us, endured siim ilar hours of anguish, which seared their hearts for- ever. Xo scene of horror was enacted in or about Washington in that week of excitement that has not been repeatedly paralleled in these later years of civil war. Long before day, the sleepless caravan, with Mrs. Madison at the head, started forward to the place ap- pointed for a meeting with Mr. Madison, " Consterna- tion was at its uttermost : the whole region filled with panic-struck people, terrified scouts roaming about and spreading alarm that the enemy were coming from Washington and Alexandria, and that there was safety nowhere." As the day wore on, in which the British were plundering and burning Washington, the storm that sent terror to their superstitious bosoms overtook the tired refugees. But the elemental war, with its bolts of thunder and zigzag lightning penetrating the darkened recesses of the forest, caused no feeling so in- supportable as the flying rumor that the negroes were in revolt, and maddened with drink and promised lib- erty, were roaming in numbers, committing every ex* cess, worse than those at Hampton the year before. A.s the day gradually drew to a close, the faint and drenched companions of Mrs. Madison reached the ap- pointed place, sixteen miles from Washington. But the President was not there, and here occurred one of those disagreeable scenes that are a disgrace to the name 204 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. of humanity, and which, be it said to the- shame of her sex, are oftener the acts of woman than of man. Crowds of persons from Washington occupied the tav- ern, and the women declared that the wife of him who had brought war upon the country, should not find shel- ter with them, its innocent victims. Jaded and ex- hausted from constant travel and want of sleep, the devoted band about Mrs. Madison waited in the storm, urging the tavern-keeper to give them an apartment until the President should arrive. The furious storm grew louder, the sky lowering before, was black as night now, and a tornado of tropical fury set in which spread desolation for many miles around. Women who had repeatedly enjoyed the hospitalities of the White House, been admitted with kind cordiality to drawing-rooms and dinings, now vied with the wife of the landlord in denouncing vehemently the inclination of the men present to admit the Presidential party. Embittered by their real and imaginary wrongs, thev lost all sense of honor and refinement, and stood in their true colors before the lady who never for one moment forgot the dignity becoming her station. She preferred the fury of the storm to contention ; but the escort with her, indignant at the contemptible conduct of the rude persons within, obliged the ungracious oc- cupants to open the doors. The old tavern stood in the midst of an apple orchard laden with ripening fruit, and hardly had the travellers left their carriages when the hurricane dashed the apples, ofttimes the en- tire trees, with fearful strength against the house. Mrs. Madison spread the lunch she had prepared the LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE. 205 day before at the White House, and in silence, inter* rupted only by her inquiries for the welfare of her at- tendants, they ate their damp food and smothered the intense disgust they felt for families who only the day before they deemed firm friends. The hours dragged slowly on, and the anxious wife looked in vain for her absent husband. Did she, in that hour of grief and humiliation, think of her illustrious predecessors who had endured like her the black ingratitude of the women of her country ? Had she forgotten that the ladies of Philadelphia, in 1776, refused to Mrs. Wash- ington similar attention, and treated with scorn the wife of the Commander-in-chief, who was using every human endeavor to organize and establish a conti- nental army? Or did it recur to her that a time would come when, like Mrs. Washington, she would again, through the brightening prospects of peace, re- ceive the flattering adulation of those very persons, and the respect and admiration of the more cultivated throughout the land ? Did she think of that strong resolute " Portia" of the Revolution who, in her mod- est home near the sea, denied and scorned the report that her husband had deserted to the British, yet who patiently submitted to the averted looks, and silent re- proaches of those whom she deemed her friends, and waited for the storm to blow over, and truth once more to triumph ? Philadelphia was a great distance then from the coast of Massachusetts, and mails were brought only at rare intervals, but with her strong faith she trusted in her husband's honor and felt that it was not betrayed. Time corrected the fabe rumor, 206 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. but her heart had been deeply wounded, and it never forgot, if it forgave, the conduct of many who, in her hour of trial, turned against her. Nervous and impatient, Mrs. Madison waited in her inhospitable quarters for the President's coming ; and as night came on, her mind was relieved by seeing him approaching, accompanied by the friends with whom she left him the night before. He was care- worn and hungry, and after devouring the remnants of her scanty meal, sought the repose he so needed. " That uneasy and humiliating repose, not the last of Mr. Madison's degradations, was, however, the turning point of his fortunes : for while he slept, Ross hastily and clandestinely evacuated Washington, victorand van- quished alike victims of, and fugitives from, imagined perils.'' But the terrified citizens knew not that the British were impotent, and dismayed at the non-ap- pearance of their fleet. Every crash of thunder was to them a source of alarm, and its rumblings in the distant clouds the imagined noise of approaching troops. Tow- ard midnight, a courier, breathless from fatigue and excitement, warned the President that the enemy were comiug, and he was compelled to pass the rest of that miserable night in a hovel in the distant woods, with the boughs sobbing and sighing their requiem around him, and the last efforts of the storm expending itself in moans, while the wind swept through the tall trees. The atmosphere was cooled by the great and prolonged .storm, but all nature seemed to weep from exhaustion, and the stillness of the closing hours of the night were in marked contrast to the roar and din of the past twenty-four hours. LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 207 Mrs. Madison was warned by her husband to use a disguise, and leaving her carriage and companions, pro- cure another conveyance and fly further. Attended by a nephew of Judge Duvall, she set out accompanied by one soldier, and at the dawn of day left the inhospit- able inn where the most unhappy night of her life had been passed. Her carriage and four horses were left with her friends, and a substitute obtained from a gentleman of Georgetown. Soon tidings reached her that Washing- ton was evacuated, and retracing her steps, she reached after a weary ride the Long Bridge, which had been burned at both ends. Here the officer in charge positive- ly refused to let an unknown woman cross in a carriage in his only remaining boat. No alternative was left her but to send for him and explain who she was, when she was driven in her carriage upon the dangerous little raft, which bore her nearer home. Reaching Wash- ington, so disguised that no one knew her, in a strange carriage, she found her former home in ruins, and the noblest buildings reduced to blackened heaps of smok- ing timber. Desolation met her on every side, and the deserted streets were as quiet as the depths of tlte for- est through which she had passed. Fortunately her sister, Mrs. Cutts, lived in the city, and she repaired there to await Mr. Madison's return. " The memory of the burning of Washington cannot be obliterated. The subject is inseparable from great international principles and usages. It never can be thought of by an American, and ought not to be thought of by an enlightened Englishman, but in conjunction with the deplorable and reprehensible scenes it recalls. It was 208 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. no trophy of war for a great nation. History cannot so record it. Our infant metropolis at that time had the aspect of merely a straggling village, but for the size and beauty of its public buildings. Its scattered population scarcely numbered eight thousand ; it had no fortresses or sign of any ; not a cannon was mounted. 11 Late in the morning, news reached the President at his hiding-place in the hovel, that the enemy were re- treating to their shipping — and he, too, turned his steps toward the capital, and found his wife before him. He rented the house called the Octagon, owned by Colonel Tayloe, where his family passed the winter, and where he signed the treaty of peace. It was situated on the north-east corner of New York Avenue and Eighteenth street. He afterward removed to the north-west corner of Pennsylvania Avenue and Nineteenth street, where he resided until the President's House was repaired. This house had been previously occupied by the Treasury Depart- ment. On F street, in a house between Thirteenth and Fourteenth streets, now numbered 246, Mr. and Mrs. Madison lived when he was Secretary of State. All three of these residences still remain. At the last New Year's Reception held by Presi- dent Madison, he was dressed in a full suit of cloth of American manufacture, made of the wool of rneri- noes raised in the United States. "An old citizen has informed me," says Mr. Gobright, in his " Men and Things at Washington," "that the levee of Mr. Madison, in February, LADIES OF THE WHITE HOrSE. ~09 1816, was remembered for years as the most bril- liant ever held up to that date in the Executive Mansion. The Justices of the Supreme Court were present in their gowns, at the head of whom was Chief Justice Marshall. The Peace Commissioners to Ghent — Gallatin, Bayard, Clay, and Eussell — were in the company. Mr. Adams alone was absent The levee was additionally brilliant — the heroes of the war of 1812. Major-Generals Brown, Gaines, Scott, and Ripley, with their aides, all in full dress, forming an attractive feature. The return of peace had restored the kindest feeling at home and abroad. The Federalists and Republicans of both Houses of Congress, party politicians, citizens, and strangers were brought together as friends, to be thankful for the present, and to look forward with de- light to the great future. "The most notable feature of the evening was the magnificent display of the Diplomatic Corps, prominent in which was Sir Charles Bagot, spe- cial ambassador from our late enemy, Great Brit- ain. " It was on this occasion that Mr. Bagot made the remark, that Mrs. Madison ' looked every inch a queen. 1 ''The only incident of a disagreeable character was the coolness toward the French minister (who was very popular with the Republicans) by the Represen- tatives of the Holy Alliance. " Mrs. Madison, like Mr. Clay, was very fond of snuff. The lady offered him a pinch from her splendid 14 210 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. box, which the gentleman accepted with the grace for which he was distinguished. Mrs. Madison put her hand into her pocket, and pulling out a bandanna handkerchief, said, ' Mr. Clay, this is for rough work,' at the same time applying it at the proper place ; ' and this,' producing a fine lace handkerchief from another pocket, ' is my polisher.' She suited the actions to the words, removing from her nose the remaining grains of snuff." Mrs. Madison at this time was represented as being a very gay lady, with, much rouge on her cheeks, and always appearing in a turban. She was fond of bright colors and the elegances of the toilet ; yet she gener- ally wore inexpensive clothing, preserving always the simplicity of a quaker, w T ith the elegance of a South- erner. Two plain ladies from the West, passing through Washington, determined to see Mrs. Madison ; but as they reached there late at night and were to leave early next day, they were much puzzled to know how the feat should be performed. Meeting in the street an old gentleman next morning, they timidly approached and asked him to show them the way to the President's House. Being au old acquaintance of Mrs. Madison's, he took pleasure in conducting the strangers to the White House. The President's family were at breakfast when the party arrived, but Mrs. Madison good-naturedly went in to be seen by the curious old ladies, who w T ere evidently much astonished to find so august a personage in a dark-gray dress and white apron, with a linen handkerchief pinned about LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 211 her neck. Her friendly welcome soon put them at ease, and rising to leave, after a visit never to be for- gotten, one of them said, " P'rhaps you wouldn't mind if I jest kissed you, to tell my gals about." Mrs. Madison, not to be outdone by her guest's politeness, gracefully saluted each of the delighted old ladies, who adjusted their spectacles with evident admiration, and departed. At a drawing-room held by Mrs. Madison in 1813, " General Harrison was the subject of a dispute be- tween a lady of great beauty and high connections, and the President. She observed when she went in, that General Harrison had received her commands to meet her at the levee. ' But that he cannot do,' said Mr. Madison, ' because he left Washington this morn- ing, with his horses and attendants, all at the door of this house, and must now be some twenty or thirty miles on his way to the West.' ' Still,' replied the lady, archly, ' he must be here, for I laid my command upon him, and he is too gallant a man to disobey me.' The President rejoined, with his manner of gentle, but pos- itive assurance, 'we shall soon see whose orders he obeys.' The question was presently settled by the General's appearance, with his military attendants, in full costume ; the lady smiling at her triumph over the most successful General of that day and the President of the United States." Mr. Madison was a silent, grave man, whose nature was relieved by a vein of quiet good-humor, which in his moments of relaxation gave an inexpressible charm to his presence. A statesman of vast mind and re- 212 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. search, he could not always descend to the graceful little accomplishments which were so attractive to many- ladies, and hence he was not so universally admired by the fair sex as his charming wife was by the gen- tlemen ; but nothing gave him more pleasant satisfac- tion than to feel that Mrs. Madison could do credit to both in the drawing-room, and he was willing to be banished to his cabinet. When Mr. Madison was attending Congress in 1*783, he became attached to an interesting and accomplished young lady, daughter of an old friend of Mr. Jefferson, who was a co-signer with him of the Declaration of Independence.* This attachment, which promised at one time the most auspicious result, terminated at last in disappointment. I cannot forbear to add the fol- lowing; extract of a letter addressed to him on the occa- sionby Mr. Jefferson, as connected with an event which is never without importance in the life of a man of vir- tuous sensibilities, and as affording a touching proof of the intimate and fraternal sympathies which united the two friends. " I sincerely lament," he said, " the misadventure which has happened, from whatever cause it may have happened. Should it be final, however, the world still presents the same and many other sources of happiness, and you possess many within yourseK Firmness of mind and unintermitting occupation will not long leave you in pain. Xo event has been more contrary to my expectations, and these were founded on what T * General William Floyd, one of the delegates of New York. LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 213 thought a good knowledge of the ground. But of al] machines, ours is the most complicated and inexpli- cable." A curious coincidence connected with three of the the four first Presidents is, that they married widows, and each had been at a previous time seriously inter ested in other ladies. It is also remarkable that nei- ther Washington, Jefferson, Madison, or his successor, had sons, and two of them were childless. Mrs. Madison was not a learned woman, but de- cidedly a talented one, and her name will ever be a synonym for all that is charming; and agreeable. A warni admirer of hers was convincing; a friend that she was not vain; "But," said the other, " you tell me she used rouge and powder." " Yes, yes, she did," he replied, " but it was to please and gratify those who were thrown with her, not because she was fond of admiration." An anecdote is related of Mrs. Madison in connec- tion with Mrs. Merry, wife of the British Minister, and Thomas Moore, the poet. Mr. and Mrs. Merry were invited to dine with President Jefferson ; when dinner was announced, Mrs. Madison happened to be standing; and talking; to the President, at some dis- tance from Mrs. Merry, and he offered his arm to her and conducted her to the table, where she always pre- sided when no members of his family were present. This attention to the wife of the Secretary of State was considered by Mrs. Merry as an insult. "Such a stir was made by the angry ambassador, that Mr. Madison wrote to Mr. Monroe (who had succeeded 214 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. Mr. King as our Minister to England) apprising hirn of the facts, to enable him to answer an expected call of the British Government for official explanations. Mr. Monroe, however, got his first information from a friendly British under-secretary, who intimated that he would soon probably hear of the matter through a different channel. The Minister was delighted. "With- in a very short period, the wife of an English under- secretary had been accorded precedence over his own, under analogous circumstances. He had no great fund of humor, but the absurdity of the whole affair, and the excellent materials in his possession for a reply to a call for explanations, struck him in a most amusing lioiit. Shaking with merriment, he hinted to his in- formant the satisfaction the call would give him. He never afterward heard a lisp on the subject." President Jefferson had abolished all etiquette in regard to official precedence when he went in office, and Mrs. Merry knew this, but she never forgave the occurrence, and never afterward went to the White House. Mrs. Madison regretted being the innocent cause of such a trouble, but she was spared further notoriety by the absence of the British Minister or his family ever afterward at the President's reunions The affair was, however, not destined to end here, for after the first clamor had subsided, the President, through another foreign Minister, inquired if Mr. and Mrs. Merry would accept an invitation to a family din- ner. It was understood that the}' would accept, and Mr. Jefferson wrote the invitation himself. Mr. Merry addressed a note to the Secretary of State to know if LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 215 he was invited in his private or official capacity ; u if in the one, he must obtain the permission of his sover- eign ; if in the other, he must receive an assurance in advance that he would be treated as became his posi- tion.'' Mr. Madison ended the correspondence with " a very dry note." Thomas Moore, who was travel- ling in the United States at this time, and beino- a friend of Mrs. Merry's, and disgusted with his recep- tion, ,: fell to lampooning the President and every thine American, except a few attentive Federal gentlemen and ladies." In 1S17, President Madison's term expired, and his Secretary of State, James Monroe, assumed the duties of President. Washington had so long been the home of lira Madison, that it was with much regret she prepared to leave the city. Many and dear were hei friends, and the society of relatives was another strong link binding her to the city. The Xational Republi- can of November '2d, 1S31, thus speaks of Mr. and Mrs. Madison : " How must they look in these days on the tem- pestuous sea of liberty ; on the dangers incident' to the little barks now floating on its agitated surface. Can they feel for the safety of that on which embarked the fortunes of Henry Clay 1 We hope and trust they do ; and at any rate we rejoice that, safe in port, they can review with just pride and pleasure their own safe and triumphant voyage, and can recollect the auspi- cious day of their landing, One of them the rallying point, the beginning and end of the cabinet in all of its just works, and the other the chief ornament and glory 21G LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. of the drawing-room, in the purest and most intelligent days of our Republic/' " Always fond of agricultural pursuit?, Mr. Madi- son jovfullv returned to his beautiful and peaceful home. Montpelier was within less than a day's ride of Monticello, and in the estimate of a Virginian, Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Madison were neighbors. " Embosomed among the hills which lie at the foot of the South Mountain, is the patera al estate of Mr. Madison. A large and commodious mansion, designed more for comfort and hospitality than ornament and display, rises at the foot of a high wooded hill, which, while it affords shelter from the north-west winds, adds much to the picturesque beauty of the scene. The or-ouiids around the house owe their ornaments more o - to nature than art, as, with the exception of a fine gar- den behind, and a wide-spread lawn before the house, for miles around the ever- varying and undulating sur- face of the ground is covered with forest trees. The extreme salubrity of the situation induced the pro- prietorto call it Montpelier. •• One win^ of the house during her life-time, was exclusively appropriated to the venerable and vene- rated mother of Mr. Madison, to which were attached offices and gardens, forming a separate establishment, where this aged matron preserved the habits and the hours of her early life, attended by old family slaves, and surrounded by her children and grandchildren. "Under the same roof, divided only by a partition wall, were thus exhibited the customs of the beginning and end of a century ; thus offering a strange but LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 217 most interesting exhibition of the differences between the olden and the present age. By only opening a door, the observer passed from the elegancies, refine- ments, and gayeties of modern life into all that was venerable, respectable, and dignified in gone-by days ; from the airy apartments— windows opening to the ground, huug with light silken drapery, French furni- ture, light fancy chairs, gay carpets, &c, Beloved by all who personally knew her, and uni- versallv respected, this venerable lady closed her long and well-spent life with the calm resignation which goodness of heart, combined with piety, only can im- part. Her funeral took place on the 16th, from St John's Episcopal Church. Her remains were deposited in the cemetery at Montpelier. Virginia, near the mon- ument erected over the grave of her illustrious hus- band. '• Out of the twelve pall-bearers who bore her re- mains to the tomb, but one survives." LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 223 MRS. JAMES MONROE. The era in which Mrs. Monroe lived, was the most eventful in the history of nations, and her record is of interest and value, in a twofold degree. The women who stamp the influence of their virtues on a time of public excitement and wonderful changes, bear in their natures strength of character worthy of .emulation ; and they become the benefactors of suc- ceeding ages, as they were the blessings of their own. The memorials of such should be familiar to the chil- dren of America, who under the genius of Republican institutions, are the inheritors of, and successors to, their fame and positions. No daughter of Columbia should be ignorant of the history and experiences of their national ancestors, whose lives were beautiful in their simplicity, and rich in varied experiences. The richest treasure our country possesses is the fame of her children; and her noblest legacy to pos- terity should be the annals of those, who by their tal- ents have adorned, and by their wisdom sustained, the pioneers of liberty in their first weak efforts. Of such a class was Mrs. Monroe, whose husband for half a century reaped the reward of his country's constancy, and filled in that period more important offices than any other man in the United States. Statesmen in this country are too often forced to give way to politicians, and patriots to demagogues. 224 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. The perpetual agitations of a Republic carry up on the flood those who in turn are swept down with the tide; while in the commotion many are lost to history. But this is less the case with Virginia statesmen than with any other class of public men. "Whatever may be said of the ingratitude of other States, the u Old Mother " has been true to her children, and -the caprice and chaugeableness of younger commonwealths but renders her trust and confidence the more conspicuous. And if she has trusted implicitly the integrity of her offspring, she has been rewarded by the love and fidel- ity of the noblest public men of the nation. The inauguration of Washington at New York, in 1789, was followed by the immediate assembling of Congress, and thither went Mr. Monroe as Senator from Virginia, accompanied by Mr. Jefferson, the newly-appointed Secretary of State. The ancient seat of the Dutch dynasty on this Continent was a place of much wealth ; and not the least of its possessions were the bright-eyed, rosy- cheeked descendants of the rich old Patroons, w r hose delight knew no bounds when their city was chosen as the capital. Xo less pleased were their fathers who, in their capacities as merchants and capitalists, hoped to achieve new honors and increased wealth. The festivities which subsequently followed the in- auguration were attended by all the members of Con- gress, who, as strangers of distinction, received the largest share of the young belles 1 attention. Promi- nent among these belles was Miss Eliza Kortright, the daughter of Lawrence Kortright, a former captain LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 225 in the British army. After the peace of 1783, he re- mained with his family in New York, where his chil- dren were reared and educated. Of this interesting family there were one son and four daughters, two oi whom, Mrs. Hileger and Mrs. Knox, were married, when Congress assembled in their adopted city. The time and place of Mrs. Monroe's marriage can- not be definitely ascertained, as no record has been retained by any of her survivors ; but it must have been during the year 1789, since Congress assembled there but one term, and it was during this session that Senator Monroe met her. Soon after their marriage they took up their abode in Philadelphia, whither the seat of the General Government had been removed. In this position he remained until 1794, when he war. appointed from the Senate to be Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary to France. Thus is shad- owed forth the five years of Mrs. Monroe's life suc- ceeding her marriage. Nothing more definite can be gathered. It is a matter of regret that no biographer of her day anticipated the needs of a coming genera- don, and did not, with all the facts and incidents fresh in his mind, give an impartial account of the every-day existence of the woman whose memory appeals now for justice. She had her troubles and trials, her triumphs and pleasures, doubtless, for no station is exempt from the one, or bereft of the other. Sketches of women are too often fulsome panegyrics, alike unjust and disgusting, but such cannot be said of the admirers of Mrs. Monroe. Not a line was written of her during her life, save a mention after her husband's 15 226 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. election to the Presidency, nor has any history of his life been written from which to glean even- a mention of her name. This is a remarkable fact, that in none of the public libraries of New York or Brooklyn, is there any history of a man who occupied the Presi- dential chair eight years, and whose record should be the inheritance of his descendants. A brief sketch, written many years ago, is all that could be found, and there is no mention of his wife in it. All the details of Mrs. Monroe's existence are lost, and nothing of interest remains. Misfortunes and sorrows, those blessings of a Divine Spirit through whose agencies are developed every la- tent gift, are forgotten now, for the meagre incidents narrated contain no allusion to the inner life of one who for so many years counselled as wife and friend, and shed a ray of light on the pathway of Mr. Monroe. Some lives there are filled from the cradle to tke grave with all material gifts requisite for happiness. Some natures there are never called to suffer agony ; gentle, quiet characters, fragrantly blossoming through all the summer of their existence, and only leaving life when snows and wintry weather close the avenues of enjoyment. Such lives rarely attain for themselves great heights, or win an immortality, but gliding through the accustomed haunts of men receive their impressions from stronger natures and allow some master hand to influence and guide their lives. With this class of persons happiness is their only possible means of expansion. The entire formation of such characters requires absolute prosperity or it becomes LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 227 dwarfed. There is with them no rebound, no reaction in which is strength to loosen the inharmonious bonds or to declare themselves free agents, accountable tc their own inner natures for any external error. A wo* man of this mould rightly married is winged for a successful life ; discordantly mated, she leads an au- tomaton existence from which there is no deliverance. If such lives are in distinct contradistinction to those intense fibrous-nerved persons whose joy ofttimes is in the heart of pain, they have one pleasing reflection, that if in their negative way they enjoy less, they evi- dently escape those shafts of agony which bury them- selves in high-wrought natures, and inspire them to deeds of greatness. Of gentle and winning manners was Mrs. Monroe, and possessed of a face upon which beauty was written in unmistakable lines. ' Tall and gracefully formed, polished and elegant in society, she was one fitted to re- present her countrywomen at the court of St. Cloud. Her position, as the wife of a wealthy Virginia Sena- tor, surrounded by luxury and prosperity, proud of her husband and of her country, was calculated to en- hance the pleasure of a trip to Europe, while the com- parative infrequency of a voyage across the Atlantic heightened the pleasure with which she received the announcement of his appointment. Young and ambitious, full of enthusiasm and ad- miration for the principles of a free government, Mr. Monroe left the shores of his native land, whose lib- erty he had so recently assisted in establishing. He had entered the service of his country as a cadet in a 228 LADIES OF TEE WHITE HOUSE. corps under the command of the gallant General Mer- cer, of Virginia. Soon afterward he was appointed a lieutenant, and joined the army at New York. Fol- lowing the fortunes of the " chief," he was with him at Trenton, Princeton, Brandywine, Germantown and Monmouth. Retiring from the staff of Lord Stirling, where he had served two campaigns, after bein^ wounded in the shoulder at Trenton, he repaired to Virginia to raise a regiment. From various causes he failed in this undertaking, and did not return to the army but entered Mr. Jefferson's office as a student at law. A member of the Legislature, and at the age of twenty-four elected to the Continental Congress, from which he passed to the Congress of the United States, we find him from his earliest boyhood devoted to the land of his birth, and serving it in these various positions of honor and eminence. But glowing with youthful admiration for the Republic he had left behind, he was not careful to- conceal his feelings in imperial France, and hence made himself unpopular with those in power. He was deemed too enthusiastically engaged in the feelings of revolutionary France to do justice to his own country, and he was recalled by Washington. In August, 1792, Lafayette was taken prisoner by the Austrians, and after being thrown like a criminal in the Prussian dungeon at Wesel on the Rhine, was transferred successively to Magdeburg, Glatz, Neisse, and finally to Olmutz. In this Austrian dungeon he was convinced by the rigor of his confinement and the brutal treatment of his captors that his fate was sealed. Down in his dark cell, ten paces deep, where the rain LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 229 through the loop-holes poured, and the sun did not shine, the young defender of American liberty lay chained, while the weaiy months dragged by, and no word of hope or certainty of death came from his wife and children left behind in Paris. Wasted by disease, deprived of light, air, and decent food, — the loathsome dampness and 'filth of his dungeon so reducing him that his hair fell from him entirely by the excess of his sufferings, his cruel tormentors cheered his gloom and oppression by no word or look of sympathy. America knew the fate of his loved ones, and while his estates were confiscated, his wife in the prison of La Force, and his little children, two of whom shared the confinement of their mother, awaiting the wrath of their oppressors, the agents of the country whose once hopeless cause he had espoused, were actively employ- ed in behalf of their former friend. It is not to be wondered that Mrs. Monroe shared the feeling entertained by her husband, or that her warmest womanly Teelings were stirred by the recital of Madame Lafayette's woes. The Marquis de Lafayette was adored by Americans, and the indignities heaped upon his heroic wife could scarcely be borne by the Minister and his family, when they felt that the death of a martyr would be the result of her cruel and pro- tracted confinement. The lofty position America had just assumed among the nations of the earth, and the respect engendered by her success, rendered her Min- isters in foreign countries objects of special attention and regard. When Mr. Monroe decided to risk dis- pleasure by sending his wife to see Madame Lafayette, 230 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. he appreciated the decided effect it would have for good or evil. He well knew that either it would meet with signal success and be of benefit to his unfortunate friend, or render her slight claim to clemency vet more desperate. Enlisted as his feelings were, he determin- ed to risk the die, and Mrs. Monroe was consulted in regard to the plan. To her husband's anxious queries, she rej)lied calmly, and assured him of her ability to control and sustain herself. As the carriage of the American Minister, adorned with all the outward emblems of rank, halted before the entrance of the prison, the keeper advanced to know the object of the visit. Mrs. Monroe, with firm step and steady voice, alighted and made known her business, and to her surprise was conducted to the re- ception room, while the official retired to make known her request. Her heart beat loudly as she alone lis- tened to the tread of the jailer as he closed the heavy door and passed down the long hall which separated the cells. After a lapse of time, which to one in her nervous state seemed an age, she heard the footsteps returning, and soon the opening of the ponderous door discovered to her astonished view the presence of the emaciated prisoner, assisted hj her guard. The emotion of the marchioness was touching in the extreme, and she sank at the feet of Mrs. Monroe, unable to articulate her joy. All day she had been expecting the summons to prepare for her execution, and when the silence of her cell was disturbed by the approach of the gendarmes, her last hope was fast departing. Instead of the cruel LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 231 announcement, — the assurance that a visitor awaited her presence in the receiving-room of the prison, and on finding; in that visitor the American Ambassadress, the representative of her husband's adopted home, her long-pent feelings found relief in sobs. The reaction was sudden, and the shock more than her feeble frame could bear. The presence of the sentinels precluded all efforts at conversation, and both hesitated to peril the frail chance of life, or to abuse the unheard-of privilege of an interview. After a painful stay of short duration Mrs. Monroe rose to retire, assuring her friend in a voice audible to her listeners, for whom it was intend- ed, that she would call the following morning, and then hastened to relieve the anxiety of her husband. Madame Lafayette's long-delayed execution had been decided upon, and that very afternoon she was to have been beheaded, but the unexpected visit of the Minis- ters wife altered the minds of the officials, and to the surprise of all, she was liberated the next morning. The prestige of the young Republic was appreciated by the French in power, and they dared not, from motives of self-interest, sacrifice a lady in whom the American Minister was so directly interested. They had not forgotten with what admiration the people of the United States looked upon her husband, the Mar- quis de Lafayette. Deaf to all the entreaties of her friends, and firm in her determination to carry immediate consolation to the dungeon of her persecuted husband, Madame Lafayette sent her eldest son, George Washington, to 232 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. America for safety, to the care of General Washington, and she. then left Paris accompanied by her two daughters in disguise, and under the protection of American passports. Passing under the name of Mrs. Motier. she landed at Altona on the ninth of September, 1795, and after repeated difficulties eventually reached the prison, where she was notified that if she passed its threshold, she must remain. The heroic woman signed her consent and deter- mination, " to share his captivity in all its details," be- ing " fully determined never again to expose herself to the horrors of another separation." The two most conspicuous men of their age, George Washington and Napoleon Bonaparte, effected by their cooperation the release of Lafayette and his deeply- injured family, — the former after an imprisonment of more than rive years, the latter, a period of twenty-two months. Mr. Monroe was recalled, and after his return to America, he published a justification of his conduct while abroad; the pamphlet settled nothing, but justi- fied both parties in the views which they had taken. Thus was Mrs. Monroe's short stay in Europe brought to a termination. In many ways it had been pleasant and beneficial, and, although she re- gretted her husband's unfortunate recall, she rather joyed in the conduct which had produced this result. Unacquainted with diplomacy and the line of action necessary between nations, she allowed her own feel- ings to decide her movements, and honored the same LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 233 spirit in her husband. The privilege of being a succor and means of relief to Madame Lafayette satisfied her more than ministerial honors, and she would rather have performed this deed prompted by Mr. Monroe's advice than remained the wife of the Ambassador. Paris then, as now, though in a less degree, was the centre of all that was to be enjoyed, and Mrs. Monroe did not regret her stay there, though so ab- ruptly ended. This first trip over the tedious waters was fraught with interest and improvement to both. New fields of thought were explored by them, and the expanse of their souls, under a sense of freedom and change, gained for their ultimate happiness more than mere worldly honors could give or take away. Thus in the devious windings of life we are con- stantly reminded that after the lesson is the application, and experience pronounces both, though hard to bear, necessary for ultimate progression. Mrs. Monroe returned to New York with her husband, who was looked upon as a disgraced minister, and being the first who had been so designated, was viewed by his friends with deep sympathy. For a time the society of her family and friends soothed the sensi- tive feelings of Mrs. Monroe, but she soon afterwards accompanied her husband to Virginia, where he was at once chosen governor. This evidence of affection gladdened the hearts of both recipients, and during the constitutional term of three years, through which he served, Mrs. Monroe added to the dignity and success of his official life by her uniform and acceptable course. The capital of 234 LADIES OF THE WniTE HOUSE. tlie State at that time was Williamsburg, a place of refined hospitality and sociability, and here the true beauty of the Governors wife was discovered under the most delicate circumstances, as well as during the most pleasing occasions. After President Jefferson cjme into power, he ap- pointed Mr. Monroe Envoy Extraordinary to the Court of Frauce, to act with Mr. Livingston in ne^o- tiating for the purchase of Louisiana. As soon as he arrived on the French soil, Mr. Livingston wrote as fol- lows to him : — Pabis, 10th of April, 1803. Dear Sir : — I congratulate you on vour safe ar- rival. We have long and anxiously wished for you. God grant that your mission may answer your and the public expectation. War may do something for us ; nothing else would. I have paved the way for you, and if you could add to my memoirs an assurance that we were now in possession of Xew Orleaus, we should do well. But I detain Mr. Beutalon, who is im- patient to fly to the arms of his wife. I have apprized the minister of your arrival, and told him you would be here on Tues'day or Wednesday. Present my com- pliments and Mrs. Livingston's to Mrs. Monroe, and believe me, dear sir, your friend and humble servant, Robert R. Livtxgstox. After the business of the treaty was arranged, Mr. Monroe was sent as Minister to London, to succeed Mr. King, who wished to return home. From there he LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 235 was ordered to Spain, which country he visited by way of Paris. Mrs. Monroe accompanied him in all his wanderings, and returned with him to England soon after the death of Mr. Pitt. Mr. Monroe was minister to England when the at- tack upon the frigate Chesapeake placed the two coun- tries already irritated, in a hostile attitude, and finding his position at the St. James anything but pleasant, he returned to this country. Thus did Mrs. Monroe spend almost ten years in Europe, returning only when the country was plunging again into a second war with the mother land. She gladly sought retirement at Oak Hill, her husband's Virginia home, and the following years passed in the enjoyment of the serene pleasures of country life. Mr. Monroe, engaged during the day in reading and taking the general supervision of his plantation, left her the care of their two daughters, and the household duties, which in a Virginia home were always arduous. But this quiet home life was not destined to last, and the husband and father resumed the duties of a politician, and was elected to the Legislature. In a few months he was again chosen Governor of the old commonwealth, and continued to discharge the duties of that office until chosen Secretary of State by Presi- dent Madison. AVhen the war of 1812 was declared, Mrs. Monroe was living in Washington City, dispensing the duties of a minister's wife and enjoying the society of her two daughters. As the strife came nearer home and the capital 236 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. was threatened, she returned to Oak Hill, and there remained until peace was finally proclaimed. Anxious and uneasy about her husband, who was ever beside the President, she yet felt that her place was at her own home, that he might feel assured of the safety of herself and children. In 1817, Mr. Monroe became President of the United States and removed his family to the White House, where they continued to reside during both terms of his administration. Mrs. Monroe was spoken of at this time by the leading paper of the day as follows : — "Mrs. Monroe is an elegant, accomplished woman. She possesses a charming mind and. dignity of man- ners which peculiarly fit her for her elevated station. Her retired domestic habits will be much annoyed by what is here called society, if she does not change the etiquette (if it may be called so), established by Mrs. Washington, Adams, and Madison, a routine which her feeble constitution will not permit her to encounter. To go through it, she must become a perfect slave to the sacrifice of her health. The secretaries, senators, foreign ministers, consuls, auditors, accountants, officers of the navy and army of every grade, farmers, mer- chants, parsons, priests, lawyers, judges, auctioneers and nothingarians — all with their wives and some with their gawky offspring, crowd to the President's house every Wednesday evening; some in shoes, most in boots, and many in spurs; some snuffing, others chew- ing and many longing for their cigars and whiskey- punch left at home. Some with powdered heads, LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE. 237 others frizzled and oiled, with some whose heads a comb has never touched, half hid by dirty collars, reaching far above their ears as stiff as paste-board.'" j And an English writer comments in a similar strain: " Mrs. Monroe is a lady of retired and domestic habits, not ungraceful and apparently very amiable. " Having resided in Europe with her husband, she has acquired some of its manners and a good deal of its polish. She receives company, but returns no visits ; she seems more attached to the silence and peace of obscurity, than the* bustle, confusion and glare of public assemblies. But to preserve a custom estab- lished by her predecessor, a lady it is said, of great elegance of manners and much dignity of deportment, she gives what are termed ' drawing rooms' for the pur- pose of gratifying the wishes and curiosity of such strangers as may please to visit her and the President. " These drawing rooms are conducted on principles of republican simplicity, and are widely different from the magnificence and splendor of the English levees. They appeared to me, however, very unpleasant ; the rooms are so crowded, the hum of voices so loud, and the motion of the company so incessant, that the possi- bility of continuing a conversation on any subject is wholly precluded, and you are jostled every instant without the power of enjoying the ' feast of reason,' or even the pleasure of the senses." The White House had been partly rebuilt when Mr. Monroe became President, but it possessed but few comforts and no elegance. The furniture was not of the kind nor quality befitting the house of the Chief 238 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. Magistrate, and the debris of the former ill-fated building lay in heaps about the mansion. The country being once more at peace, Congress ordered Consul Lee, then residing at Paris, to purchase a silver service of plate, which was forwarded at once, and which has continued in use until replaced by a more modern and expensive set in March, '69. About the same time was bought for the East Koom the furniture which now adorns that funious apartment. When the purchase was made in Paris, each article was surmounted by the royal crown of Louis XVIII. This ornament of gilt was removed, and the American Eagle substituted before it was sent from France. To the thoughtful mind this furniture is of interest in so far as it recalls the dead who have long since crumbled back to dust, yet, whose memory is associated with the chairs and ottomans still remaining where they were placed years ago. True, they have been often repaired, but the original eagles are as bright as when they left the shores of the Empire, to grace the house of the Republic. Mrs. Monroe mingled but little in the society of Washington, and always secluded herself from the ob- servation of the throng. Her health was frail during the latter years of her life in the White House, and she became more than ever a recluse. In a recent publication there is a copy of an old letter written by Mr. Cooper, in which he thus men- tions a dinner and a reception at the White House during Mr. Monroe's time. " On this occasion we were honored with the pres- LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 239 ence of Mrs. Monroe, and two or three of her female relatives. Crossing the hall we were admitted to a drawing-room, in which most of the company were already assembled. The hour was six. By far the greater part of the guests were men, and perhaps two- thirds were members of Congress. " There was great gravity of mien in most of the company, and neither any very marked exhibition, nor any positively striking want, of grace of manner. The conversation was commonplace, and a little sombre, though two or three men of the world got around the ladies, where the battle of words was maintained with sufficient spirit. ****** To me the enter- tainment had rather a cold than a formal air. "When dinner was announced, the oldest Senator present (there were two, and seniority of service is meant") took Mrs, Monroe and led her to the table. The rest of the party followed without much order. The President took a lady, as usual, and preceded the rest of the guests. " The dining-room was in better taste than is com- mon here, being quite simple and but little furnished. The table was lars;e and rather handsome. The service was in china, as is uniformly the case, plate being ex- ceedingly rare, if at all used. There was, however, a rich plateau, and a great abundance of the smaller articles of table plate. The cloth, napkins. &&, etc., were fine and beautiful. '•The dinner was served in the French style, a little Americanized. The dishes were handed around, though 240 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. some of the guests, appearing to prefer their own cus- toms, coolly helped themselves to what they found at hand. "Of attendants there were a good many. They were neatly dressed, out of livery, and sufficient. To conclude, the whole entertainment might have passed for a better sort of European dinner-party, at which the guests were too numerous for general or very agreeable discourse, and some of them too new to be entirely at their ease. " Mrs. Monroe arose, at the end of the dessert, and withdrew, attended by two or three of the most gal- lant of the company. ' ; Xo sooner was his wife's back turned than the President reseated himself, inviting his guests to imi- tate the action. After allowing his guests sufficient time to renew, in a few glasses, the recollections of similar enjoyments of their own, he arose himself, giv- ing the hint to his company, that it was time to rejoin the ladies. " In the drawing-room coffee was served, and every one left the house before nine. C! ' & $ :■: * :£ :-c " On the succeeding Wednesday, Mrs. Monroe open- ed her doors to all the world. No invitation was neces- sary, it being the usage for the wife of the President to receive company once a fortnight during the session, without distinction of persons. We reached the White House at nine. The court (or rather the grounds) was filled with carriages, and the company was arriving in great numbers. On this occasion, two LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 241 or three additional drawing-rooms were opened, though the frugality of Congress has prevented them from finishing the principal reception- room of the building. I will acknowledge the same sort of surprise I felt at the Castle Garden fete, at finding the assemblage so respectable in air, dress, and deportment. The evening at the White House, or drawing-room, as it is some- times pleasantly called, is, in fact, a collection of all classes of people who choose to go to the trouble and expense of appearing in dresses suited to an ordinary evening party. I am not sure that even dre33 is much regarded, for I certainly saw a good many there in boots. The females were all neatly and properly attired, though few were ornamented with jewelry. Of course, the poor and laboring classes of the com- munity would find little or no pleasure in such a scene. The infamous, if known, would not be admitted, for it is a peculiar consequence of the high tone of morals in this country, that grave and notorious offenders rarely presume to violate the public feeling by invading society* " Squeezing through the crowd, we achieved a pas- sage to a part of the room where Mrs. Monroe was standing, surrounded by a bevy of female friends. After making our bow here, we sought the President. The latter had posted himself at the top of the room, where he remained most of the evening, shaking hands with all who approached. Near him stood all the secretaries, and a great number of the most dis* * This was nearly fifty years ago. — Author. / 16 242 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. tinguished men of the nation. Individuals of import- ance from all parts of the Union were also here, and were employed in the manner usual to such scenes. Besides these, one meets here a great variety of people in other conditions of life. I have known a cartman to leave his horse in the street and go into the recep- tion-room to shake hands with the President. He offended the good taste of all present, because it was not thought decent that a laborer should come in a dirty dress on such an occasion; but while he made a trifling mistake in this particular, he proved how well he understood the difference between government and society. He knew the levee was a sort of homage paid to political equality in the person of the First Magis- trate, but he would not have presumed to enter the house of the same person as a private individual, without being invited, or without a reasonable excuse in the way of business. 1,1 After Mr. Monroe retired from office, he returned to his home in Loudon County, and engaged with Messrs. Jefferson and Madison in establishing the University of Virginia. This occupation formed a pleasant pastime to him, and was of lasting benefit to his beloved State. Afterward, he was chosen Presi- dent of the Virginia Convention to amend the Con- stitution of his native State. Meanwhile Mrs. Monroe found womanly employment for hands and heart in caring for those dependent upon her bounty, and en- tertaining the various throngs who delighted to do honor to the three ex-Presidents of the United States, and sons of the old commonwealth. LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 243 Her two daughters were married and gone from home, the eldest, Eliza, the wife of Judge Hay, of Virginia, and Maria, wedded to her first cousin Samuel L. Gouverneur, of Xew York. She was now alone and becoming aged, and was pleasing herself with the de- lusion that after so many years of public life, her hus- band would spend the evening of his days with her, around the fireside. But he felt as if he could never cease to serve Virginia. Long after his duty to his country had been performed and she had dismissed him with plaudits and laurel wreaths, he struggled under accumulated infirmities and trials, and to the last hearkened to the voice of his State. The last public position he held was a magistracy in the county of Loudon, where he resided, and was as attentive and devoted to the performance of every duty as when holding the highest office in the gift of the people. Mrs. Monroe died suddenly in 1830, and thus was ended the old hornedife. Oak Hill was closed, and the crushed husband sought refuse from loneliness in the home of his voun^est daughter, whose devoted affec- tiou soothed his pathway to the grave. Less than a year after Mrs. Monroe's death her husband was preparing to join her in her spirit-home. On the 4th of July, 1831, the anniversary of Ameri- can Independence, just five years after his predecessors had quitted this scene of their labor and their tri- umph, he, too, joined them, and past the shadow of death he was reunited with the friends of his earth- life. " There is a quiet, beautiful cemetery on the north 244 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. side of Second street, in this city (New York) between First and Second Avenues, separated from the side- walk by a tall *iron fence, placed upon a granite foun- dation. The shrubbery is always clean and vigorous ; the grass is always the greenest, and the walks are scru- pulously neat. There are many tasteful and appropri- ate monuments to the dead that sleep within this beau- tiful inclosure ; but to the memory of the most famous of its dumb inhabitants there is no marble shaft, no obelisk, not even a head-stone, erected. But upon a simple slab of marble that lies flat, some two feet square, upon the earth, and is almost covered by gras3, is the following inscription : JAMES MONROE, ROBERT TILLOTSON, vault No. 147. There is -nothing to indicate that the James Mon- roe mentioned is the Monroe who was in the battle of White Plains, and received a ball in the shoulder at the attack on Trenton, who fought by the side of La- fayette at Brandywine, who was Minister to France in 1794, and afterward to England ; who was Secretary of State in 1811, and for two full terms President of these United States. Yet such is the fact, and that weather-stained slab of marble, two feet square, is all the monument that Ex-President Monroe has. It is a curious neglect that leaves the precious dust of one of the pvrest patriots that our country has been blest LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 245 with, to rest in such obscurity. Thousands pass every day by the spot admiring the well-kept grounds, paus- ing for the fragrance of the flowering shrubs, listening to the songs of the birds that find this oasis in the city's desert, but never dreaming that the author of the Monroe Doctrine, the fourth President of the Uni- ted States, lies within a few feet of them. Monuments to men of half his intellectual stature, and a tithe of his industry and goodness of heart, are going up all over the land. Shall he who was re- elected to the Presidency by a vote unanimous with a single exception, and who never disgraced his position have no more than this ? As Mr. Monroe was a Vir- ginian, it is the supposition of most people that he died and was buried within the Old Dominion, but this is an error. Mr. Monroe, in his last days, resided with Samuel Gouverneur, late postmaster of this city (New York) who married his daughter ; their residence was on the corner of Prince and Elm Streets. The venerable Dr. Francis tells us that he often met Mr. Monroe walking out when the weather was fine, and that on these occasions he was the object of the most affectionate attentions. He has often met him making purchases for the family, at the Centre Market, where all the stallmen knew and honored him. He was tall and spare, very modest -in his bearing, dignified and gentlemanly. In his address, he was hesitating and diffident, and polite to the poorest and humblest as to any. He was one of the most indus- trious of men, a hard student, and his cares left their 24G LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE. marks on hie face. The wound that lie received at Trenton was felt for many years afterward — indeed, throughout all Lis life lie occasionally suffered from it. His last illness was a long and tedious one. His attendant was Lis son-in-law's family physician, Dr. Berger. He expired at 10y o'clock on the morning of the 1th of July, 1831. His funeral was a very imposing one — the largest that at that time had ever been seen in ZSTew York. The military, under Gen. Jacob Morton, Grand Marshal, filled Broadway from Prince to Broad Street, through which it passed to the cemetery. The day was fine, and the signs of mourning were generally adopted by our citizens. The vault in which his dust -till lies, is on the east side of the cemetery, just to the right of the main walk as you look in from the entrance. The passer-by will note a small pole, on which a dove-house is perched Within a yard of that pole is the sacred spot.* Many years afterward, by order of the Virginia Legislature, the remains of Ex- President Monroe were removed to Pdchmond, and a monument befitting his glorious past deeds reared above him. The property of Oak Hill is now owned by Mr. Fairfax, and about one thousand acres of land. Three hundred acres are comprised in the McGowan estate. The second daughter of President Monroe, Mrs. Maria Gouverneur, died in 1850 at Oak Hill, where she was buried by the side of her mother. There are at this time but few descendants of Mrs. Monroe ; two • Fr:ra an old new-paper printed more than thirty rears ago. LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 247 grandsons and several great-grandchildren, comprise the number now living. * * * * * * The tale is quickly told, the history soon written of such a life as was Mrs. Monroe's. Little of interest or variety is there connected with one whose identity was so completely merged in her husband's existence. She has passed on, leaving only here and there a link to form a chain of events, by which to weave the barest outlines. At this short remove from her day, we are discour- aged in every effort to obtain facts and incidents. She lived in the bosom of her small family, serenely happy in her retirement, and the memory of so quiet an exis- tence is swallowed up in the ever-varying changes of time. 248 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. MRS. JOHN QUIXCY ADAMS. It was the happy fortune of Mrs. Adams to be the occupant of the " White House" when Lafayette visited the United States, and at the request of the President he spent the last weeks of his stay at the Executive Mansion, and from there on the 7th of September, 1825, bade an affecting farewell to the land of his adoption. As the last sentence of the farewell ad- dress was pronounced, Lafayette advanced and took President Adams in his arms, while tears poured down his venerable cheeks. Returniug a few paces, he was overcome by his feelings, and again returned and fall- ing on the neck of Mr. Adams, exclaimed in broken accents, " God bless you." The sighs and tears of the many assembled, bore testimony to the affecting solem- nity of the scene. Having recovered his self-posses- sion, the General stretched out his hands, and was in a moment surrounded by the greetings of the whole as- sembly, who pressed upon him, each eager to seize, per- haps for the last time, that beloved hand which was opened so freely for our aid when aid was so precious, and which grasped with firm and undeviating hold the steel which so bravely helped to achieve our deliver- ance. The expression which now beamed from the face of this exalted man was of the finest and most touching kind. The hero was lost in the father and the friend. Dignity melted into subdued affection, and uhaj^6o^ Ga/SCeytA/yiX JLdxxrvvUj LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUoE, 249 the friend of Washington seemed to linger with a mournful delight among the sons of his adopted country. A considerable period wa3 then occupied in con- versing with various individuals, while refreshments were presented to the company. The moment of de- parture at length arrived ; and having once more pressed the hand of Mr. Adams, he entered the ba- rouche, accompanied by the Secretaries of State, of the Treasury, and of the Navy, and passed from the capital of the Union. The whole scene — the peals of artillery, the sounds of numerous military bands, the presence of the vast concourse of people, and the occasion that assembled them, produced emotions not easily described, but which every American heart can readily conceive. Mrs. Adams was the sixth in the succession of oc- cupants of the Executive Mansion, and with her closed the list of the ladies of the Revolution. A new gen- eration had sprung up in the forty-nine years of Inde- pendence, and after her retirement, younger aspirants claimed the honors. Born in the city of London on the 12th of February, 1775, she received advantages superior to those enjoyed by most of the ladies of America. Her father, Mr. Johnson of Maryland, al- though living at the outbreak of the war, in England, was ever a patriotic American, and soon after hostili- ties commenced, removed with his family to Nantes, in France. " There he received from the Federal Congress an appointment as Commissioner to examine the ac- counts of all the American functionaries then entrust- 250 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. ed with the public money of the United States, in Eu- rope ; in the exercise of the duties of which he con- tinued until the peace of 1782. Oar National Inde- pendence having then been recognized, he returned to London, where he continued to reside, and where he acted as consular agent for the United States until his final return in 1797, to his native soil." It was fortunate for Mrs. Adams that her husband was a strong, intellectual nature ; he both satisfied and sustained her, and rendered her sojourn on eaith con- tented and agreeable. In her father's house in Lon- don he first saw her, in 1794, and on the 26th of July, 1797, they were married at the church of All-Hallows. Soon afterward his father became President, and he was transferred to Berlin, where he repaired with hi3 wife as a bride, to play her part in the higher circles of social and political life. It need scarcely be added that she proved perfectly competent to this ; and that during four years, which comprised the period of her stay at that court, notwithstanding almost continual ill-health, she succeeded in making friends and concili- ating a degree of good will, the recollection of which is, even at this distance of time, believed to be among the most agreeable of the associations with her varied life. In 1801, after the birth of her eldest child, she embarked with Mr. Adams on his return to the United States. Not to Maryland, the home of her childhood, but, a stranger to their habits and manners, she went among the New England people, and settled with her husband in Boston. Here she determined to be satis- fied and live with a people whom in feeling she was not LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 251 unlike, but scarcely was she beginning to feel at Lome when Mr. Adams was elected Senator, and she re- moved with him to "Washington. A sister was already established there, and she met once more the members of her own family, where to her the winter months passed pleasantly away. Each summer she returned to Boston, and thus alternating between there and Washington in winter, she passed the pleasant years of Jefferson's term. To many, the capital was an out of the way place, and not always pleasant to Congress- men's wives who left the gaieties of larger cities to be detained six or ei source of regret to both ; but a fortunate circumstance threw a little child across her pathway, and she gladly took the babe to her home and heart. Her brother • had twin boys born to him. and wishing to help her sister in a care which was so great, took one of LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 297 them to the Hermitage when it was but a few day? old. The General soon became extremely attached to the little guest, and adopted hiin, giving him his own name, and treating him from that time with unremit- ting kindness and affection, as if he were indeed his only son. A traveler, who arrived at the Hermitage one wet, chilly evening in February, says, " I came upon General Jackson in the twilight, sitting alone before the fire, a lamb and a child between his knees. See- ing me, he called a servant to remove the two inno- cents to another room, and said that the child had cried because the lamb was out in the cold, and bested him to bring it in, which he had done to please the child — his adopted son, then not two years old. This son, Andrew Jackson, jr. was the sole heir of the Gen- eral's large estate. His widow resides yet at the Her- mitage, at the request of the State of Tennessee, which has lately purchased the place. A few days after the battle of Xew Orleans, Mrs. Jackson arrived in that city with a party of Tennes- seans, bringing with her the little Andrew, then about seven years old. She participated in the attentions that were showered upon the General, who showed her, himself, the most marked respect and deference. The ladies of Xew Orleans presented her with a valu- able and beautiful set of topaz jewelry. In her por- trait, at the Hermitage, Mrs. Jackson wears the dress which she appeared in at the grand ball given in New Orleans, in honor of the General. It is white satin, ornamented with lace, and jewelry of pearls. This 298 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. portrait was painted by Earl, an artist who married a niece of Mrs. Jackson's and resided many years in General Jackson's family. In 1816 Mrs. Jackson joined the church, while at- tending the ministry of the Rev. Gideon Blackburn, a Presbyterian divine, whom she ever after regarded with the deepest veneration. To gratify her, General Jack- son built a little church on the estate, a quarter of a mile from the house. It was plain and simple, and small, but very dear to Mrs. Jackson, who spent in it many happy hours. It was a blessing to the neighbors, who found it convenient and pleasant to send their children to Sunday school, and to attend church them selves when it was impossible to go farther. A new house was built during the summer of 1819. It was erected expressly for Mrs. Jackson, and every thing regarding it was done exactly in accordance with her wishes. Major Lewis, who visited the site, recom- mended a more elevated position to the General. " No, Major," said he, " Mrs. Jackson chose this spot, and she shall have her wish. I am going to build this house for her ; I don't expect to live in it myself." He was at the time very feeble and exhausted from the severe illness succeeding his return from the Seminole war, and was, as he supposed, not long for this world. The house is situated in a level place, rather lower than the avenue which leads to it, and from the gate only glimpses of it can be obtained. The surrounding country is exceedingly beautiful. The long stately avenue of cedars ends in an oval-shaped lawn in which stands the mansion. Both in front and in the rear of LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. . 299 the house, there are grand double piazzas, with stone floors supported by large fluted columns, round which cling and bloom beautiful rose vines. Under the shade of these drooping tendrils, General Jackson and his cherished wife were wont to saunter, occasionally stop- ping to more distinctly hear the rich notes of the southern songsters, or to catch the mournful cry of the ring-dove in the distant cotton field. The walls of the hall are covered with scenes from Telemachus, which was formerly so fashionable for pa- pering. The fairy beauty of Calypso's enchanted island, with its sparkling fountains, its flowery groves, its elegant pillared palaces, it3 danciug nymphs, its altars of incense and votive wreaths, its graceful groups of statues on the sea-shore, and above all, its lovely queen and the noble youth and his wise Mentor, lend an air of interest and beauty to this cool hall, which is delightful. There is hanging here a handsome portrait of Columbus. The furniture is old-fashioned and dig- nified, and there are several busts of distinguished men. That of General Jackson was taken by Mr. Persico, made in Italy and presented to the General. The parlors are large, pleasant rooms, in which there are many curiosities, and various odd and ex- quisite pieces of furniture that were presented at dif- ferent times to General Jackson. The house is spacious and handsome. "When first built, it was the most ele- gant one in all the country around. It was a gift of love from the General to his beloved wife, when he did not expect to survive her ; and it was arranged to suit her slightest wish, that nothing might be wanting 300 • LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. to her satisfaction, which it was possibly in his power to provide. The extensive and carefully ordered gar den was tended and overlooked by her, and contains a great many sweet shrubs and evergreens and beautiful Sowers, a large number of which she planted herself. In 1821 General Jackson was appointed Governor of Florida, and left the Hermitage the 18th of April, accompanied by Mrs. Jackson and the "two An- drews," the adopted son and nephew — Andrew Jack- son Donelson.* The following September she wrote * After General Jackson landed at Blakely, near Mobile, he proceeded up the river about forty miles, to a military post under the command of Colonel Brook, and called " Montpelier." Here lie was detained some days, during which time he learned that the Indian Chief " Weatherford," who commanded at the destruction and massacre of Fort Mimms, was living but a few miles off. General Jackson remembered the brave con- duct of the Chief at the battle of " Horse Shoe," where, losing the most of his warriors, he surrendered alone, l-emarking, that " he had fought as long as he had men, and would fight longer if he could ;" t and at his sug- gestion Colonel Brook invited the Chief to dinner the following day. The next day his appearance attracted much attention at the fort, and when dinner was announced, General Jackson escorted him to the presence of the ladies, introducing him to Mrs. Jackson as the Chief of the Creek Indians and the bravest of his tribe. She smilingly welcomed him and said, " she was pleased to meet him at the festive board, and hoped that the strife of war was ended forever." " I looked up," he said, " and found all eyes upon me, but I could not speak a word. I found something choked me, and I wished I was dead or at home." Colonel Brook came to his rescue by replying to Mrs. Jackson, and the dinner passed off pleas- antly, but the Chief related the occurrence a few years later, and said, "ho was never caught in such quarters again." t "Weatherford's words were, " I am in your power. Do with mo what you please. I have done the white people all the harm I could. I fought them, and fought them bravely. There was a time when 1 had a choice; I have none now; even hope is dead. Once I could animate my warriors ; but I cannot animate the dead. They can no longer hear my voice ; their bones are at Tallushatches, Talladega, Emucfaw and To-ho- pe-ka." LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 301 to a friend at Nashville : " The General, I think, is the most anxious man to get home I ever saw. He calls it a wild-goose chase, his coming here. He tells me to say to you and Captain Kingsley, that in the multiplicity of business, if he had or could have seen any advantages for your better prospects, he would have written Captain Kingsley long since. You are in the best country in America. Oh, how ha3 this place been overrated. We . have had a great many deaths ; still I know it is a healthy climate. Amongst many disadvantages, it has few advantages. I pity Mr. J,, he will have so much fatigue. Not one minis- ter of the gospel has come to this place yet ; no, not one ; but we have a prayer meeting every Sabbath. The house is crowded so that there is not room for them. Sincere prayers are constantly sent up to the Hearer of prayer for a faithful minister. Ob, what a reviving, refreshing scene it would be to the Christians, though few in number. The non-professor3 desire it. Blessed be God, he has a few even here that are bold in declaring their faith in Christ. You named, my dear friend, my going to the theatre. I went once, and then with much reluctance. I felt so little interest in it, however, I shall not take up much time in apolo- gizing. My situation is a peculiar one at this time. I trust in the Lord my dear child, Andrew, reached home in safety. I think you all must feel a great deal for me, knowing how my very heart recoiled at the idea of what I had to encounter. Many have been disappointed. I have not. I saw it as plain as I now do when it is passing. Oh Lord, forgive, if thy will, 302 LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE. all those my enemies that had an agency in the matter. Many wander about like lost sheep ; all have been dis- appointed in offices. Crage has a constable's place of no value. The President made all the appointments and sent them from the City of Washington." General Jackson, in a letter to Captain John Don- elson, Sr., speaks thus of his wife : " I hope we will be able to leave here by the 1st of October for home. Mrs. Jackson's health is not good, and I am determined to travel with her as early as my business and her health will permit, even if I should be compelled to come back to settle my busi- ness and turn over the government to my successor. I am determined to resign my office the moment Congress meets, and live near you the balance of my life. * * Before this reaches you, Colonel Butler and our little son will be with you, I hope. I trust you will extend your care over him until we are where he has gone. You may be sure your sister will not remain long be- hind. We all enjoy tolerable health at present, but I am wearied with business and this hot weather." Mrs. Jackson sighed for her quiet home and her little church, during her stay in Florida. Pensacola was so different, and the people so entirely divided in all their tastes and pursuits from the devout Christian ma- tron, that she could not be satisfied. " Three Sabbaths," she says, " I spent in this house before the country was in possession under American government. The Sab- bath profanely kept, a great deal of noise and swear- ing in the streets ; shops kept open, trade going on I think more than on any other day. The were so bois- LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 303 terous on that day I sent Major Stanton to say to them that the approaching Sunday would be differently kept. And must I say, the worst people here are the outcast Americans and negroes ! 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 ; fid- dling and dancing not heard any more on the Lord's day ; cursing not to be heard. Pensacola is a perfect plain : the • land nearly as white as flour, yet productive of fine peaches, oranges in abundance, grapes, figs, pomegranates, &c. Fine flowers grow spontaneously, for they have neglected the gardens expecting a change of government. The town is immediately on the bay. The most beautiful water prospect I ever saw ; and from 10 o'clock in the morning until 10 at night we have the finest sea-breeze. There is something in it so exhilarating, so pure, so wholesome, it enlivens the whole system. All the houses look in ruins, old as time. Many squares of the town appear grown over with the thickest shrubs, weeping- willows, and the Pride of China : all look neg- lected. The inhabitants all speak Spanish and French. Some speak four or five languages. Such a mixed mul- titude you nor any of us ever had an idea of. There are fewer white people far than any other, mixed with all nations under the canopy of heaven, almost in na- ture's darkness." On the 3d of November, General and Mrs. Jack- son arrived at the Hermitage, delighted to be again at that home within whose doors the angels, Peace and 304 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. Happiness awaited their return, and sat with folded Winers. General Jackson set out for Washington, accompa- nied by his wife, in 1824, going all the way in their own coach and four, and being twenty-eight days on the journey. In a letter to a friend in Nashville, she says, " We are boarding in the same house with the nation's guest, General Lafayette. When we first came to this house, General Jackson said he would go and pay the Marquis the first visit. Both having the same desire, and at the same time, they met on the entry of the stairs. It was truly interesting. At Charleston, General Jackson saw him on the field of battle; the one a boy of twelve, the Marquis, twenty-three." A great many persons paid their respects to Mrs. Jackson. She says, " there are not less than from fifty to a hundred persons calling in one day.' 1 While wondering at "the extravagance of the people in dressing and running to parties, 1 ' she speaks with en- thusiasm of the churches and the able ministers. Soon after their return home, Mrs. Jackson's health began to decline, and in the succeeding yeara of Gen- eral Jackson's campaign for the presidency, it contin- ued delicate. She went with the General to New Or- leans, in the beginning of the year 1S28, and witnessed his splendid reception there. " She was waited on by Mrs. Marigny and other ladies, the moment she landed from the Pocahontas, and conducted to Mr. Marigny's house, where refreshments had been prepared, and where she received the salutations of a lar^e and bril- liant circle. The festivities continued four days, at the LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 305 end of which, the General and Mrs. Jackson and their friends reenibarked on board the Pocahontas and re- turned homeward." Mrs. Jackson's health continued to fail, and no ex- cursions or remedies were found availing. She had O suffered from an affection of the heart; a disease which, increased and heightened by every undue excitement, was. in her case, exposed to the most alarming ex- tremes and continually liable to aggravation. The painful paragraphs in regard to her character with which the papers of the country abounded, wounded and grieved her sorely. The circumstances of her marriage, so easily misconstrued and so lamentably mis- understood by many whom distance and meagre infor- mation had kept in ignorance, were used by the poli- tical enemies of General Jackson as lawful weapons wherewith they might assail his fair fame and obstruct his rapid progress to the highest place in the land. Considered in all its bearings, there is not in the whole world a position more honorable, more important, or more responsible, than that of the President of the United States. Well were it needful to choose with circumspection the Chief Magistrate of a country so vast, of a people so intelligent and brave, and possess- ing the elements of such greatness and glory ; who holds in his grasp such a multitude of destinies ; and -n ho is able, by his decisions, to continue the sunshine of prosperity, or to bring the bitter blasts of adver- sity and discord. Hence the ardor and even the des- peration of the struggles for victory in each presiden- tial campaign. The same enthusiasm which actuated 20 306 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. the friends of General Jackson, actuated also bis ene- mies ; and nothing could exceed the earnestness and rancor with which they attacked him. Not content with reviling him, they must needs drag before the public the long-forgotten circumstances of his mar- riage, and wrest them to suit their unworthy purposes. The kind heart of Mrs. Jackson, though wrung with mortification and grief, prompted no utterance of im- patience. She said very little, but was often found in tears. Meanwhile, her health continued to decline. It was too hard to bear that he to whom she had. de- voted the affections and energies of her long life, should be taunted, for her sake ; that he should, for her sake, be considered unworthy of the trust of that na- tion for whose defence and honor he had undergone unnumbered fatigues and conflicts and perils. This si- lent suffering told upon her spirits, but anxiety to know the event sustained her. When the news arrived of General Jackson's elec- tion to the presidency, it was received with rejoicings and hilarity in Nashville as everywhere else, but with calmness by him and her who were so highly honored. Her gratification must have been too deep and heart- felt to be expressed with noise and mirth. Despite the calumnies which their enemies had heaped upon her and the General, the nation had bestowed upon him its highest gift ; and had confided, for a time, the keeping of its honor and well-being into his hands. The sorrows through which she had passed, those clouds that had hung over her thorny way, had been dispersed by the favoring wind of truth, and the bright LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 307 rays of jDeace shone upon her heart. But she was not dazzled by the new prospects opening before her The splendors and gayeties of a life in the White House could offer her no attractions. Her domestic and sini* pie tastes found more pleasure in her own home and family-circle at the beloved Hermitage. "For Mr. Jackson's sake," said she, " I am glad ; for my own part, I never wished it." She seemed to regret the necessity of a residence in "Washington, and remarked to a friend with an expression of the utmost sincerity, " I assure you that I would rather be a door-keeperin the house of my God, than to live in that Palace in Washington." Mrs. Jackson always purchased all the clothing and household articles, both for her own and the servants' use. Desiring to arrange every thing comfortable dur- ing the winter, for she knew that General Jackson would have many friends at the Hermitage, she made frequent visits to Nashville, and on one occasion heard the thoughtless remarks of persons who probably for- got a moment afterward the words which broke the heart of their victim. It was her custom usually to 2:0 to one of her most intimate friends on reachina; the city, and have the horses and carriage put in the sta- ble, and then go out shopping ; but on this occasion, she went early in her cumbrous coach, and as she had many places to visit, determined to send the driver to a livery stable and meet it in the afternoon at ihe Nashville Inn, then the principal hotel in the city. Weary and exhausted after a tedious day's shop- ping, she went. at the appointed hour to the parlor of the hotel, and while waiting there, she heard her name 308 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. called in the adjoining room. It was impossible for her not to hear, and there she sat, pale and excited, listening to a repetition of calummies which political strife had magnified and promulgated. The bare truthful outlines of her earlv unfortunate marriage were given, but so interwoven with false misrepresen- tations, that she could hardly believe herself the sub- ject of remark. All she did hear was never known, but on her death-bed she told the circumstance to her husband, and then he understood the cause of her vio- lent attack. He had tried to keep eveiy paragraph and abusive line out of her sight, and hoped that now, after the election was decided, this unhappy subject of ' ; her marriage before a divorce was granted,'" would be dropped forever. She had acted as she thought was the best, and indeed, in every act of her life she discovered the fine sense she displayed in her conduct towards her first husband. But the malicious envy of people who could not bear her elevation, caught at every straw to revile her pure and blameless life. Had she lived unhappily with General Jackson, there might have been some excuse for considering her a weak woman ; but her long, happy and beautiful existent his wife, was a convincing proof of her affectionate nature, and religious, high-minded soul. The fatal eiTor of her youth, in marrying a man her intellectual and moral inferior, was more than atoned for in the miserable years she spent as his unappreciated wife. She was sensitive and refined, and her nature revolted at his coarseness. She had acted rashly in marrying him, but she was loth to part with him. W« LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 309 to blame that she did not know his character thor- oughly "before her marriage? The sigh that heaves from the hearts of thousands of women as they recall a similar experience attests her innocence. "Was she to blame for marrying again, when she and every one who knew her believed her free ? He had never pro- vided a home for her, she had always been compelled to live either with her mother or his, thereby sealing her doom, for no wife, however kind her husband may be, can be as happy in the home of her parents as she could in one of her own, be it ever so lowly. Captain Robards never tried to make her comfortable or con- tented, but augmented the sorrows of her young heart by a course of conduct revolting in even the most de- graded of men, and inexcusable in him, since he was of a respectable family, and supposed to be somewhat cultivated. But her offence was •the acceptance of a protector and friend, who would shield her from poverty and unhappiness, and add to her life, what she had never known, a husband and a home. The bonds of a civil marriage had been dissolved, not by her efforts, but by her ungenerous, narrow-minded husband, and she had become the wife of a man eminently suited to her. With all the bitter experience of her short married life, she trustingly confided her happiness into the keeping of one who never betrayed it, and who made her existence a continued source of iov. In the hio-h- er courts, in her conscience, but one marriage tie was recognized, and but one possessed the entire affection of her young and chastened heart. 310 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. It had "been arranged that a grand dinner and ball should be given on the 23d of December, to General and Mrs. Jackson, that day being the anni- versary of the night-battle below New Orleans ; a day rendered celebrated in the annals, of his country by his own heroic achievements. A week previous to this intended festival, and a few days after her visit to Nashville, Mrs. Jackson was seized with a spasmodic affection of the muscles of the chest and left shoulder, attended with an irregular action of the heart, and great anxiety of countenance. The suspense and uneasiness occasioned by the late political strife being at an end, and the uncertainty of the event no longer torturing her, she could bear up no farther. One of the physicians in attendance upon her, gives the following minute and interesting ac- count : " Being hastily sent for, I lost no time in rendering her all the assistance in my power. Finding she had been bled before my arrival, without any manifest abatement of the symptoms, I repeated the operation, which was again had recourse to in the evening, on the arrival of Dr. Hogg, an eminent physician of Nashville, who had been sent for simultaneously with myself. These successive bleedings, together with other treatment, produced great relief, and an entire subsidence of all the alarming symptoms. The three following days she continued to improve; she was cheerful, and could sit in her chair and converse with her friends. On Monday night, however, she sat up too long, caught cold, and had slight symptoms of LADIES OP TIIE WHITE HOUSE. 311 pleurisy. These soon yielded to the proper remedies ■ a profuse perspiration ensued, which it was though! proper to encourage with mild, diluent drinks ; every thing promised a favorable issue. In this situation, after Dr. Hogg and myself had retired to an adjoining room, our patient unfortunately got up twice and sat by the fire. The perspiration "became suddenly checked. She cried out, ' I am fainting,' was placed in bed, and in a moment afterwards she was a lifeless corpse ! " All our efforts for her restoration were vain and fruitless. No blood could be obtained, either from the arm or the temporal artery. Sensibility had ceased, life had departed ; and her meek and quiet spirit sought that rest with her God and her Redeemer, which a cruel world refused to grant. " From a careful review of the case, there seems to be no doubt but that there was a sudden reflux of the blood from the surface and the extremities, upon the heart and other organs, producing an engorgement and consequent spasm of that important discus. That her death is to be attributed to this cause, rather than to an effusion of the brain, seems to be inferable from the fact of the total and instantaneous cessation of the functions of the heart. Not a pulsation could be per- ceived ; her lungs labored a minute or two, and then ceased. u How shall I describe the agony — the heart-rending agony — of the venerable partner of her bosom ? He had, in compliance with our earnest entreaties, seconded by those of his wife, left her chamber, which he could seldom be persuaded to do, and had lain down in an 512 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. adjoining room, to seek repose for his harassed mind and body. A few minutes only had elapsed, when we were hastily summoned to her chamber ; and the Gen- eral, in a moment, followed ns. But he was only in time to witness the last convulsive effort of expiring nature. Then it was that all the feelings of the de- voted husband burst forth. His breast heaved, and his soul seemed to struggle with a load too oppressive for frail humanity. Nor was he the only mourner on this melancholy occasion. A numerous train of do- mestics crowded around the bed of their beloved mis- tress, and filled the room with their piercing cries. They could not bring their minds to a belief of the painful reality that their mistress and friend, for such indeed she was, lay before them a lifeless corpse. ' Oh ! is there no hope ? ' was their agonizing question ; and vainly would they flatter themselves with the be- lief, that perhaps i she was only fainting.' " The distressing event spread with the rapidity of the wind ; aifd neighbors and relatives thronged the house from midnight until late the following morning. Soon the painful tidings reached Nashville, twelve miles distant, and a fresh concourse of friends pressed forward to show their respect for the dead and to mourn with the living. 1 ' Early on the morning of the 23d December, while active preparations for the expected banquet were go- ing on, and many bright eyes and gay hearts were al- ready, in anticipation, beginning the pleasures of the day, the afflicting news reached the city, of the Presi- dent's unlooked-for and terrible bereavement. This LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 313 gad paragraph appeared in the papers and cast a gloom over the "breakfast-tables where so many had assem- bled in joy. "In the midst of preparations for festi- vity and mirth, the knell of death is heard, and on the very day which it was arranged and expected that our town should be a scene of general rejoicing, we are suddenly checked in our career, and are called on to array ourselves in garments of solemnity and woe. Mrs. Eachel Jackson, wife of General Andrew Jackson, President elect of the United States, died last night, at the Hermitage, in this vicinity. The intelligence of this awful and unlooked-for event has created a shock in our community almost unparalleled. It was known, a few days since, that Mrs. Jackson was vio- lently attacked by disease ; which, however, was sup- posed to have been checked, so as to afford a prospect of immediate restoration to health. This day, being the anniversary of an interesting and important event in the last war, was appropriately selected to testify the respect and affection of his fellow-citizens and neigh- bors to the man who was so soon to leave his sweet domestic retirement, to assume the responsibilities and discharge the important duties of Chief Magistrate of the nation. The preparations were already made ; the table was well-nigh spread, at which all was expected to be hilarity and joy, and our citizens had sallied forth on the happy morning with spirits light and buoyant, and countenances glowing with animation and hope, — when suddenly the scene is changed, congratulations are converted into expressions of condolence, tears are substituted for smiles, and sincere and general mourn- 314 LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE. ing pervades a community where, but a moment be- fore, universal happiness and public rejoicing prevailed. But we have neither- time nor room, at present, to in- dulge in further reflections on this melancholy occur- rence. Let us submit with resignation and fortitude to the decrees, however afnicting, of a just and merciful, though mysterious and. inscrutable Providence." The preparations making for the festivity were im- mediately stopped, upon the arrival of the melancholy information ; and, in their stead, the committee of ar- rangements, together with the Mayor and Aldermen of the city, recommended, to the citizens, as an evidence of their deep regret and sympathy for the calamity which had befallen their honored fellow-citizen, to sus- pend for one day the ordinary business of life, which was cordially observed. In the course of the morning, a card ei^ht inches Ions* and six inches wide, with a mourning:, border one-third of an inch in width, was printed, containing the following announcement : "The committee appointed by the citizens of Nashville to superintend the reception of General .Jackson on this day, with feelings of deep regret, an- nounce to the public that Mb& Jacksoh departed this life last night, between the hours of ten and eleven o'clock. " Respect for the memory of the deceased, and a sincere condolence with him on whom this providential afiliction has fallen, forbid the manifestations of public regard intended for the day. " In the further consideration of the painful and un- expected occasion which has brought them together, LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE. 315 the committee feel that it is due to the exemplary virtues and exalted character of the deceased, that some public token should be given of the high regard entertained towards her while living. They have, therefore, resolved, "That it be respectfully recommended to their fellow-citizens of Nashville, in evidence of this feeling, to refrain, on to-morrow, from the ordinary pursuits of life. " Josiah Nichol, Chairman. "December 23." The city authorities also passed suitable resolutions, the last of which reads as follows : " Resolved, That the inhabitants of Nashville are respectfully invited to abstain from their ordinary busi- ness on to-morrow, as a mark of respect for Mrs. Jackson, and that the church bells be tolled from one until two o'clock, being the hour of her funeral." These proceedings were signed by Felix Robertson, Mayor, and attested by E. Dibbrell, Recorder. About a fortnight before her death, she remarked to a friend, that although she had lived with Mr. Jack- son nearly forty years, there had never an unkind word passed between them, and the only subject on which they ever differed, or where there was the slightest opposition, was his acceptance of appointments when conferred upon him; she being always unwilling for him to enter upon public life. Such was the woman whom General Jackson was called upon to separata from, at a moment of all others the most trying. 316 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. Although the weather was unfavorable, her friends assembled from every point, to pay the last tribute of respect to one who could befriend them no more. Every vehicle in iSTashville, and there were more at that day than now, in proportion to the population, was put in requisition. The road to the Hermitage had not been macadamized, and it was, consequently, at that season of the year almost impassable : yet an immense number of persons attended the funeral. AY hen the hour of interment drew near, the Gen- eral, who had not left the beloved remains, was in- formed that it was time to perform the last sad rites. The scene that then ensued is beyond description. There was no heart that did not ache, no eye that did not weep. Many of the officers present, who had shared with the General his difficulties and dangers ; who had seen him in the most trying situations; who had eyed him when his gallant soldiers were suffering for food to sustain life, and he unable to relieve them ; who had witnessed him on the battle-field, when the wounded and the dying were brought before him, and every muscle seemed moved, and his very frame ago- nized with sorrow ; yet had seen no suffering however poignant or excessive, affect the General like this great affliction. When he bade his final adieu to the last kindred link that bound him to earth, his Eoman for- titude seemed for a time to be completely overcome. It was a soul-rendino* sis;ht to see an old veteran, whose head was whitened by the hardships he had endured for his country, bending over the lifeless form of an affectionate wife, whose death was hastened by LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 317 the cruelty of those whose rights' he had so nobly de- fended. By a muscular and almost superhuman effort, he endeavored to check the current of his grief; and waving his hand to the afflicted company, begged them to weep no more. " I know," said he, " it is unmanly, but these tears were due to her virtues. She shed many for me." But one wish pervaded the assembly, that the individuals who had hastened this scene by their relentless attacks on an unoffending woman, could be brought to witness the saddest spectacle that any present had ever beheld. But they were not there to witness the effects of their calumnies. She was dead, and they were aveuged. Ever after that funeral, his opponents com- plained that his personal feelings were allowed to gov- ern his public acts, and that to be suspected by him of having believed aught of slander against his wife, was the unpardonable crime which he never forgave. Brave old Hero ! how deathless was the feeling which to the latest hour of his life displayed the same strength it had ever discovered ! Silent and grave he was on the subject, but forgetfulness or indifference did not occasion such a course of action, as too many found to their sorrow. A dangerous look in his flashing eye satisfied any one of the sacred ground, and few braved his ano-er by recalling an unpleasant recollection connected with her. The inhumanity of the world robbed him of his treasure, and darkened his life, but while he lived her name was a hallowed sound breathed in the darkened recesses of his bruised and lonely heart, which cheered him on to the portals of the tomb 318 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. through which she 'had passed to immortality. Tho dear remains were interred in a corner of the Hermi- tage garden; and thither the afflicted General was supported by General Coffee and Major Rutledge. The following gentlemen were pall-bearers : — Governor Sam Houston, Col. Ephraim H. Foster, Col. George Wilson, Gen. Robert Armstrong, Col. Sam. B. Mar- shall, Col. Allen, Mr. Solomon Clark, and Major G. W. Campbell. A resident of Nashville, writing to his brother in Philadelphia, said: "Such a scene I never wish to wit- ness again. I never pitied any person more in my life than General Jackson. I never before saw so much affliction among servants on the death of a mistress. Some seemed completely stupefied by the event ; others wruns: their hands and shrieked aloud. The woman that had waited on Mrs. Jackson had to be carried off the ground. After the funeral, the General came up to me and shook my hand. Some of the gentlemen men- tioning my name, he again caught my hand, ' and squeezed it three times, but all he could utter was * Philadelphia.'' I shall never forget his look of grief." By the kindness of Mrs. Sarah Jackson, the widow of General Jackson's adopted son, I am in possession of a book compiled by Mr. Earl, under the direction of the General himself, entitled in gilt letters on the back, " Obituary Notices of Mrs. Jackson." It con- tains the funeral card before mentioned ; a great num- ber of eulogies taken from the papers of the day ; in- numerable paragraphs expressive of respect and sym- pathy ; -and a synopsis of the funeral sermon, in manu. LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 319 script. It was preached by the Reverend William Hume, of Nashville, and has never heretofore been published. It will be found interesting, not only as the funeral discourse of so eminent a lady, but as a specimen of a sermon delivered forty years ago, in a country so undeveloped as Tennessee was in those days. i; The righteous shall he in everlasting rememhrance." Psalm cxii., 6th verse. " These words might be applied to that venerable matron, with much propriety, as she gave every rea- sonable evidence that she was anions: the rio;hteou3. Indeed, as her name is indissolubly connected with that of the President of the United States, it shall be held in remembrance while the page of history dis- plays the memorable actions of General Jackson. The words of the Psalmist, however, are applicable to her in a much nobler sense. "The death of this worthy lady is much deplored, not only by her distinguished husband and immediate relations, but by a large majority of the people of the United States of America. Her character was so well known to multitudes who visited the Hermitage, the abode of hospitality, that the following remarks will readily be acknowledged as true :— "With respect to her religious principles, they were such as are held sound by all religious denomina- tions that are commonly called evangelical. Convinced of the depravity of human nature, as taught in the Holy Scriptures, she relied on the spirit of Grod alone 320 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. to illuminate, renovate and purify that nature that it might be qualified for the unspotted society of heaven. Believing with the inspired Paul, that by the works of the law, no flesh can be justified in the sight of God, her dependence for eternal life was placed on the merits and mediation of Jesus. Fully persuaded that the law is holy and the commandment holy, and that God will not acquit the sinner from condemnation, in a way that will conceal the dignity of His government, the purity of His nature, the truth of His threatening or the glory of his unchangeable justice, she derived all her hope of acceptance with God from Him who 'bore our sins in his own body on the tree; who suf- fered, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God.' While, however, her whole dependence for accept- ance with God was founded upon the atonement of the Son of God, through whom grace reigns unto eter- nal life, she knew that this doctrine did not tend to immorality. She was taught by Paul that holiness is always inseparably connected with this dependance on the merits of the Saviour, and that every motive to holiness arising from interest or gratitude or the pleas- ures of religion remains in full force ; she therefore abounded in good works. Assured by the infallible testimony of her Lord and Master, that every branch of the true vine, as it derives its verdure, beauty, vigour, and sap from the vine is fruitful, she, a genuine branch was so too. In acts of piety, as adoration, thanksgiv- ing and praise, she took delight. Her seat was seldom empty in the house of God. Though very often sur- LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 321 rounded with company from every State in the Union, neither she nor her illustrious husband neglected the house of God on that account. The tears of genuine penitence were often shed by her in the temple of the Lord. She had a tender and a feeling heart, and some- times I have seen the tears bedewing her cheeks while she was speaking of the dangerous condition of those around her, who seemed to be entirely careless about a future state. Indeed, her devotional spirit was mani- fest in all her conduct. She meditated on the wonders of redeeming love with much delight, as the source of her present joy and future hope of glory. Indeed, her piety was acknowledged by all who knew her, as it manifested itself by the most unequivocal proofs ; a reverential awe, a supreme love and profound venera- tion for the incomparable excellences of God, and a cordial gratitude to Him as the source of all her mer- cies. Her love to God was displayed by an un usual obedience to His commands and by an humble submis sion to His providence. "As a wife, connected with one who stood so high in the estimation of his fellow-citizens, she was, as a Christian, exposed to some peculiar temptations; for who can resist the fascinations of honor and of power? While she rejoiced in the honor of a nation of freemen spontaneously given to a husband so dear to her heart, yet no unbecoming elation of mind, no haughtiness, no overbearing conduct, could ever be seen, even by an inimical eye, in this amiable lady. She was adorned with the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, in an eminent degree. Esteem and affection were so mixed 21 322 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. in her bosom for her husband, that her respectful be- havior to him, in her house and among her connections and acquaintances, struck every beholder as the soft impulse of the sweetness of her disposition ; so that by her kindness and affability, her husband was more happy in his own family than in the midst of his tri- umphs. In consequence of her amiable manners, his own house was the chief place of his enjoyment. "The tears and lamentations of the servants are proofs of the most unequivocal kind of her excellence as the mistress of her household. Never did children seem to mourn more sincerely for a mother than the household servants lament for her. The cordial re- gard of her servants may well be attributed to the gentleness of her commands, the calmness of her tem- per, and her tenderness in treating them in health and in sickness. She was, indeed, a mother to her family. "The widow and the orphan will long lament the death of Mrs. Jackson. In the circle of the widows and orphans her benevolence accompanied with the most substantial acts of beneficence, shone with dis- tinguished splendor. To her the words of Job may be properly applied: ' "When the ear heard her, then it blessed her ; and when the eye saw her, it gave wit- ness to her, because she delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon her, and she caused the widow's heart to sing for joy. She put on righteousness, and it clothed her. Her judgment was a robe and a diadem. She was eyes to the blind, and feet to the lame, and a mother LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 323 to the poor. 1 Blest with affluence, she had a heart to feel and a hand to relieve the poor and the needy. She viewed the bounties of Providence not ouly to refresh herself and her family, but as designed by her Benefactor to now in channels leading to the doors of those who were perishing of thirst, that they, also, might quaff and be satisfied. "Some indeed, during the presidential struggle, with unfeeling hearts and unjustifiable motives, exerted all their powers to throw her numerous virtues into the shade. It was, no doubt, the intention of the de- famers to arouse the indignation of her husband that he might perpetrate some act to prevent his elevation to that high station to which the Americas people re- solved that he should be raised. Under this cruel treatment Mrs. Jackson displayed the temper of a dis- ciple of Him who was meek and lowly of heart. Her meekness was conspicuous under all the injuries and provocations which were designed to provoke and ex- asperate her. Seldom, indeed, has the busy tongue of slander and detraction been more gratuitously and basely employed ; never was it put to silence with more helplessness and confusion than in the case of this amiable and pious lady. Influenced by the religion that she professed, she restrained all immoderate sallies of passion and harsh language on that trying occasion. She felt, indeed, the injustice of the warfare. Her compassionate heart was wrung with sorrow. Her tears flowed, but there was no malevolence in her bosom. She could have received no pleasure in giving pain to her detractors. Confiding in God, that He 324 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. would bring forth her righteousness as the light, and her salvation as a lamp that burneth, she was not disap- pointed. " She was permitted to live until the people of America, by their unbiassed suffrage, asserted their full conviction of her innocence in a manner calculated to shame and confound the most furious and unprincipled of her detainers. Yes, she lived to see every cloud of calumny blown away by the united breath of the American people ; and found herself and her beloved husband in the enjoyment of an unclouded sky, fa- voured with the smiles and the esteem of a people un- influenced by detractors and qualified to form their own opinions. " While we cordially sympathize with the President of the United States, in the irreparable loss he has sus- tained in the death of his amiable lady, whom he deemed so worthy, as he said, of our tears ; we, from our long acquaintance with Mrs. Jackson, and our many opportunities of seeing her virtues displayed, cannot doubt but that she now dwells in the mansions of glory in company with the ransomed of the Lord, sing- ing the praises of that Saviour whom she loved and served while she was a pilgrim on earth. In heaven, she drinks of the pure stream of the river of life, is- suing -from the throne of God and of the Lamb." Various newspapers, and. among them, the Mercury of Philadelphia, clothed their columns in the badge of mourning ; which was " alike merited," says the Me?*- cury, " by his services and fame and her virtues and piety." LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 325 The ladies of Abingdon, Virginia, met and entered into resolutions to transmit to General Jackson a letter " assuring him of the sincere regard they bore the char- acter and person of his deceased lady, and the sorrow they feel at his afflictive bereavement, 1 ' and also to wear mourning badges on their dresses for thirty days. The following is a copy of the letter of condolence to General Jackson : — January 5th, 1829. " Dear Sir: — We have heard, with the deepest sorrow, of your late afflictive bereavement in the death of your truly pious and amiable wife ; and we have met to mingle our tears with yours for the irreparable loss you have sustained. To weep on such an occasion is not blamable ; it is but a becoming tribute to de- parted worth ; yet, at the same time, we should bow with submission to the will of Him who ' gives and who takes away at his pleasure.' She has gone, we trust, to those mansions ' where the wicked cease from troub- ling and the weary are at rest, 1 where the voice of malice cannot reach her or the tongue of calumny dis- turb her. " On such an occasion, when religion is deprived of one of its brightest ornaments, and society of one of its most valuable members, we consider it our duty to offer to her memory the tribute of esteem which is due to her worth ; and to give you, Sir, our sincerest condo- lence for this late afflictive dispensation. At the same time, we offer our fervent prayer to the Almighty dis- poser of human events, that your administration of 826 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. the high office to which you have lately been elected may be as wise and happy as your military career was brilliant and successful. "SaeahP. Peestox." This beautiful effusion of the finest feeling does in- finite credit to the highly esteemed authoress. She was a daughter of General William Campbell, who so gloriously commanded the Virginia militia, and after- wards a gallant corps in the battle of Guilford Court House, who in the language of the historian, were " the first engaged and the last to quit." The Board of Mayor and Aldermen of Knoxville, Tennessee, unanimously adopted a preamble and reso- lutions in regard to the death of Mrs. Jackson. Joseph C. Strong was Mayor, and William Swan, Kecorder. Colonel Jacobs offered the paper, and we annex the resolutions : — u Resolved, That while we deeply regret the death of Mrs. Jackson, we cannot but express our gratitude to the Supremo Governor of the universe, that she was not taken from time to eternity until the people of the Union had given a clear and distinct manifestation of the high estimation in which they held the reputa- tion of herself and husband. ' ; Resolved, That in cDnsequence of the death of Mrs. Jackson, the Mayor be directed to request the Rev. Thomas H. Nelson to preach a sermon suitable to the occasion, in the First Presbyterian Church, at eleven o'clock a. it, on Thursday, the first day of Jan- uary next. LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 327 ' : Resolved, That the inhabitants of Knoxville be respectfully requested to attend church, and abstain from their ordinary business on Thursday, the first day of January next, as a tribute of respect to the memory of the deceased. Dec. 29, 1828." In accordance with the request contained in the second resolution, the Reverend Thomas H. Nelson preached a funeral sermon on Thursday the first day of January, 1829. The Common Council of the city of New York passed resolutions of condolence to mark their ■' defer- ence for her domestic virtues, her benevolence and her piety." An authenticated copy of these resolutions was forwarded to General Jackson. A public gathering assembled at the Vine Street Meeting House, Cincinnati, Ohio ; at which a very large committee was appointed to draft resolutions, which they did, in honor of " a lady in whom by uni- versal consent, the practical charities of the heart were gracefully blended with the purest and most unaffect- ed piety." On the 8th of January, throughout the country, instead of the customary firing of cannon commemora- tive of the day, a solemn silence was maintained, as a token of respect for the deceased. At various public dinners on that day, Mrs. Jackson's death was alluded to in the most gentle and sympathetic terms. As an illustration of the tone and spirit of these allusions, we copy the following. At Boston, this toast was offered by S. Fessenden, Esq., " The memory of Mrs. Jackson, — sadness to our joy, but for the bright hope that the 323 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. event which hath wrought for hint whose praise we celebrate a cypress chaplet, hath introduced her whose memory we revere and whose death we deplore, to a crown of unfading glory." In New Orleans the following toast was offered : 'The memory of Mrs. Jackson, — an example of piety, benevolence, and every Christian virtue. ' The only amaranthine flower on earth is virtue.' " In Nashville, Capt. Fairish presented this, — " The memory of Mrs. Jackson." In Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, at the celebration of the members of the Legislature, the following toast was drank : — " The memory of Mrs. Jackson, — the amia- ble wife of the slandered hero. The grave now shrouds her mortal remains, but her virtues will shine in bril- liant purity, when her unprincipled slanderers are lost to the memoiy of man." A touching reference to the sad event was made in the House of Representatives by the Hon. Pryor Lea, of the Tennessee Delegation. And so hundreds of pages of eulogies published in every section of the Republic might be copied. Many pieces of poetry mourning the death of Mrs. Jackson appeared in the papers, one of which, from the Cincinnati Advertiser, is subjoined. MONODY Ox the Death of Mes. Jacksox. "As wintry blasts succeed the summer's bloom, Ar.d summer suns give place to winter's gloom; As to mom's radiance o'er creation spread, LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 329 The night succeeds, when every ray is fled ; Or as the heart, but erst with joy elate, To sorrow turns beneath some stn >ke of fate ; So a joy'd nation Fate has bid to turn Its smiles of joy to tears o'er Virtue's urn. Sacred the numbers breathed in Virtue's name, Dear still to goodness, if unknown to lame. Be thine the grateful task, humble muse, (Virtue's thy iheme, and thou canst ne'er refuse,) Be thine the task that goodness to deplore, Which Death, relentless, bids to be no more; To sing th' unspotted life, unknown to blame, But every virtue dear to woman's name ; The meek-eyed charity, the guileless heart, The long enduring under sorrow's smart ; The ready friend to comfort in distress; The hand as willing as the heart to bless; The every charm exalted virtue lends, Conferring blessings as its means extends ; The mind sincere, unknown to pious guile; Which ne'er deceit, dh-honest, could defile, But still intent religion to obey, And .is she taught its precepts, led the way; To all its active impulses awake, And virtuous only for fair virtue's sake. "Scarce was the contest o'er, the victory won, Mysterious Fate ! But half thy will was done. From that first hour a nationmade its choice Of him in whose great name its sons rejoice, From the first hour the grateful news was hailed, Even from that hour her gentle spirit failed. While o'er the land loud peals of triumph rang, Her milder nature felt the mortal pang, Which still protracted, nought availed to save Her suffering nature from an honored grave. •* Eternal Providence! Whate'er thy ways, 5 Tis still our duty to adore and praise. Lo, the bright virtues from her earliest time, Which souls ungenerous slandered into crime. 830 LADIES OF THE wniTE HOUSE. Lo, Hot loved husband's fame, by foes assailed, Impotent still. And -while each effort failed, Behold ihem torn with most dishonest- arts, Against domestic Peace, their venomed carts. Nor sex, nor p:ui:y, nor honored age Could s:ive them from the shafts of blinded rage. Te: she b'.'.t lived to' triumph and to see Her fame proved pure as 'twas designed to be, When Nature, in her great and high behest, Formed, of her daughters, her among the best. Yet shall her cherished memory long endure, To still assuage the grief it may not cure. As when the glorious sun retires to resfcj He leaves a gulden twilight in the west. WLere the mild radiance of his thousand rays, Illumes the skies and gladdens every gaze; So the remembrance of her virtues dt-ar Sha'l o'er the hearts of tho ; e who lovfd her here, Shed the mild radiance of that tranquil joy, Which death, nor fate, nor ill can e'er desiroy." Until a few clays before Lis death, the General wore always around his neck and hidden in his bosom a miniature of Mrs.- Jackson, on the back of which is a pretty little wreath made of his and her hair. The cliain to which it is attacked is curiously wrought of black beads intermineled with a flower-work of bright gold ones, into which these words are skilfully intro- duced'. "Presented to General Andrew Jackson, as a token of esteem, from Caledonia M. Gibson. May bless- ings crown thy hoary head."' Every night he placed this miniature on a little table, by his bedside, leaning against his Bible, with the beloved face towards him, so that the kind, familiar smile should be his first greeting when he waked. His grand-daughter, now Mrs. LaAvrence, bears the honored name of his wife, LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 331 Eacliel Jackson, and was an especial favorite of bis. His eyes were often fixed upon her during his last ill- ness with peculiar interest and affection. One morn- ing within a few days of his death, when she came to bid him good-bye, before starting to the city to school, he threw the chain around her neck and asked her to wear, for his sake, the miniature he had loved and worn so long. In a comer of the garden at the Hermitage there is a simple elegant monument raised over the vault in which lie the remains of General Jackson and his wife. The steps run around the circular area, eighteen feet across. From this platform spring eight fluted columns of the Doric order, surmounted by a handsome entab- lature supporting the dome, which is crowned with a funereal urn. On the interior, a plain cornice of vaulted ceiling, stuccoed in white, gives an air of purity and comeliness, well suited to a tomb. From the cen- tre of the platform rises a pyramid on a square base. On the floor, on each side of this pyramid, lie the tablets which contain the inscriptions. The one on the left is the General's, which bears only his name and the record of his birth and death. The hand of an undying affection has covered the other with a long and tender testimony to her worth. It runs thns : " Here lie the remains of Mrs. Rachel Jackson, wife of President Jackson, who died the 22d Decem- ber, 1828, aged 61. Her face was fair, her person pleasing, her temper amiable, and her heart kind ; she delighted in relieving the wants of her fellow crea- fcurcs, and cultivated that divine pleasure by the most 332 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. liberal arid unpretending methods; to the poor she was a benefactor, to the rich an example ; to the wretched a comforter, to the prosperous an ornament ; her piety w r ent hand in hand with her benevolence, and she thanked her Creator for being permitted to do good. A being so gentle, and yet so virtuous, slander might wound but could not dishonor. Even death, when he tore her from the arms of her husband, could but transport her to the bosom of her God. 1 ' Here in the freshness and greenness of the garden they planted, surrounded with clambering vines and fragrant blooms, the General and his beloved wife sleep their last sweet sleep. Across a garden-path, lie the remains of Mr. Earl, the artist, " friend and com- panion of General Andrew Jackson." Beside him lies Andrew Jackson, the adopted son of the General ; and near are two of his infant sons, and a grown son, Samuel, who fell in battle. General Jackson survived his wife more than six- teen years, and, unto the end, his love for her burned as brightly as in the hey-day of his youth. Though aged and suffering greatly, he was remarkably ener- getic and kept up his correspondence with his old and dear friends. The last letter that he ever w r rote, only two days before his death, was addressed to the Hon. Mr. Polk, President of the United States, expressing confidence in his judgment and ability to guard well and truly the interests of his country. LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 833 MRS. DONELSON. Mrs. Emily Doxelsox, the accomplished mistress of the White House during General Jackson's presiden- tial term, was the youngest child of Captain John Donelson, a man of sterling integrity and irreproacha- ble character, perfect in all the relations of life, respect- ed as a citizen, honored as a Christian, and beloved as a friend and neighbor. She was born in Davidson County, Tennessee, and educated at the Old Academy, in Nashville. Of rare personal loveliness and superior intellect, no expense or care was spared to fit her for the high position she was destined to fill in society. Though her childhood was spent in what was then called the " backwoods," it was not passed in obscurity, for her close relationship with Mrs. Jackson, the pub- lic prominence of her near relations, Generals Smith, Coffee and Hays, and the great wealth and high stand- ing of her father, early made her familiar with camps and crowds, and developed that courtly grace aud ease of manner for which she was afterward so preeminent. A host of suitors contended for the beautiful maiden's hand, among whom were General Sam Houston, Col. Ephraim H. Foster, and Major Gustavus A. Henry ; they always spoke of her as the " lovely Emily," and delighted in expatiating on the charms of her mind and person. At the early age of sixteen, she was married to her cousin, Major Andrew J. Donelson, the protege and confidential adviser of General Jackson. She was ever 334 LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE. a fond and faithful wife, sharing the joys and triumphs of her husband, relieving his cares and sorrows, and filling his home with peace and comfort, and his heart with light and happiness. On General Jackson's election to the presidency, he appointed Major Donelson his private Secretary, and invited Mrs. Donelson to officiate as mistress of ceremonies at the White House. To settle a delicate question of j)recedence between Mrs. Jackson, jr. and Mrs. Donelson, who were both inmates of the President's House and nieces of General Jackson, he said to Mrs. Jackson, " you, my dear, are mistress of the Hermitage, and Emily is hostess of the' White House." Both were satisfied with this deci- sion, and ever afterward Mrs. Donelson occupied the first position in the President's Mansion. This was a position that the elegance and refinement of Mrs. Washington and Mrs. Madison had invested with great respect ; and Mrs. Donelson filled it as they had done, ever mindful of her dignity as a lady, and true to her duty as a wife and mother. In all that is lovely and noble in woman, she was the peer of her illustri- ous predecessors ; and her tact and grace contributed much to render General Jackson's term such a brilliant epoch in American history. It was a day of fierce party spirit ; political animosity spared neither sex nor condition, yet the voice of detraction was never raised against her honored name. Friend and foe alike paid homage to her charms. Mrs. Donelson was of medium height, with dark auburn hair, dark brown eyes, fair complexion, lips LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 335 and brow exquisitely moulded, slender symmetrical figure, and hands and feet tiny as a child's. Her por- trait bears a striking resemblance to the pictures of Mary Queen of Scots. jSTo stranger ever passes it without commenting on its singular fascination. Young, fond of society and pleased with attention, she entered with zest into the festivities of Washington, and participated in all its gayeties. Her taste in dress was exquisite, and her toilette was the envy and ad- miration of fashionable circles. The dress she wore at the first inauguration, an amber-colored satin, brocaded with bouquets of rose-buds and violets, and richly trimmed with white lace and pearls, was a j:>resent from the General, and was described in every paper of the Union. It is still preserved in the family, and even in this day of costly attire, would be a gala dress. Beloved as a daughter by 31rs. Jackson, and intimately associated with her for years, she was beside that hon- ored and dear friend at the time of her death ; and her tenderness and sympathy did much to mitigate the poignancy of the General's bereavement. He always called her " my daughter ; " and often when wearied with the cares of ofhce, would seek relaxation amid her family circle. Arbiter in politics, he deferred all mat- ters of etiquette to her; and when she would appeal to him to settle any knotty social point, he would re- ply, " you know best, my dear. Do as you please." Of lively imagination, she was quick at repartee, and had that gift possessed by so few talkers, of listening grace- fully. Thrown in contact with the brightest and most cultivated intellects of the day, she sustained her part ; 836 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. and her favor was eagerly sought by the learned and polished. A foreign minister once said to her, " Mad- am, yon dance with the grace of a Parisian. I can hardly realize you were educated in Tennessee." " Count, you forget," was the spirited reply, " that grace is a cosmopolite, and like a wild flower, is much oftener found in the woods than in the streets of a city." During the Eaton controversy, the public was curi- ous to see what course she would take. Her friends were also Mrs. Eaton's friends, it was her policy to please General Jackson, and General Jackson's heart was set on Mrs. Eaton's social recognition, yet Mrs. Donelson was a woman who, dearly as she loved pow- er, loved honor more. Of kind and tender sensibili- ties, her heart and hand were ever ready to respond to the calls of the jjoor and suffering, but she had no patience with the shameless and presuming, and could tolerate no association with a woman who could take such liberties with her marriage vow. At the public receptions and levees, she received Mrs. Eaton with her usual dignity and courtesy; but when the General asked her to visit that lady, and set the example of public recognition of his favorite, she refused decidedly, saying, " Uncle, I will do anything on earth for you, consistent with my dignity as a lady, but I cannot and will not visit any one of Mrs. Eaton's reputation." She carried her point, and honored be her name for the noble example she set her countrywomen. Mrs. Donelson's four children were all born at the AVhite House, and their earliest reminiscences are of LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 337 the East Room, levees, state dinners, and processions. General Jackson made their christenings occasions of great ceremony. He was god-father of two of them, Mr. Van Buren of another, and General Polk of the youngest. General Jackson was very fond of these little ones, and took a grandfather's interest in all their plays and games. The White House has probably never had a more charming tableau than that present- ed by the old hero, surrounded by the lovely family group, of which he was the soul and idol. Of Mrs. Donelson's children, only her two daughters are now living. Her two sons passed away in the spring-time of life. They were young men of great promise, supe- rior intellect, and high social standing. Andrew, the eldest, was captain of engineers in the United States army, and died of consumption in 1859/ John was captain in the Confederate service, and fell in the battle of Chickamauga, righting bravely in defence of the soil and cause he loved. In the spring of 1836, Mrs. Donelson's health be- came so delicate that she concluded to leave Washing- ton, and go home to Tennessee ; hoping, in the quiet and seclusion of her beautiful home (Tulip Grove), soon to regain her health and strength. But her symptoms grew more alarming, and it soon became evident that consumption had marked her for its vic- tim. The scene changes now from the gay festivities of Washington to the loneliness and suffering of the sick room. The hectic flush and wasting form marked the rapid progress of the insidious disease, and thoughts of death became familiar. Though so young 22 333 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. and gay, she bore her suffering with the patience and fortitude of an angel, and submitted without a mur- mur to the decree that tore her away from husband, children, and friends. Shortly before her death, she made a public profession of religion, and connected herself with the Presbyterian church. Every resource of medical skill and experience was tried to stay the course of her disease, but in vain ; and in December her spirit passed from earth. Her death was as peace- ful and hopeful as her life had been loving and happy. Always a fond and proud mother, as the time drew near for a final separation from her children, she clung to them with a tenderness and devotion touching to behold. A few evenings before her death, she was sitting at an open window, admiring the beauty of a winter sunset, when a bird entered, and flying several times around the room, alighted on her chair. One of her little children, playing by her side, made some exclamation and tried to catch it. " Don't disturb it, darling,"' said the dying mother, " maybe it comes to bid me prepare for my flight to another world. I leave you here, but the Heavenly Father, who shelters and provides for this poor little bird this wintry day, will also watch over and take care of you all when I am gone. Don't forget mamma ; love her always, and try to live so that we may all meet again in heaven." Ere the week closed, her chair was vacant ; earth had lost one of its noblest, purest spirits, but heaven had gained an angel. "Lovely, bright, youthful, chaste as morning dew, She sparkled, was exhaled, and -went to heaven." LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 339 MRS. ANDREW JACKSON, Je. The wife of President Jackson's foster-son was the daughter of Peter Yorke of Philadelphia, whose grand- father, Judge Yorke, held an appointment under the crown of Great Britain prior to the Revolution. She was educated in that city, and received all the accom- plishments a mind of superior order under similar for- tunate circumstances would be capable of appreciating. Left an orphan at an early age, her affections were concentrated upon those nearest of kin to her, and well and nobly has she fulfilled all the requirements of sisterly love. A large circle of friends and rela tives rendered her young life happy by their sympathy and affection, and her youth is remembered as a scene of varied though ceaseless pleasures. Miss Yorke was married to Mr. Jackson soon after the iuaug-uration of his adopted father, and made her entree at the White House as a bride. Necessarily the object of remark and criticism, which has not gen- erally a tendency to promote ease of manner, she yet managed to win sincere admiration from all who came in contact with her. Seldom has any one in so conspicu- ous a position exhibited so much of the perfect self- possession which distinguishes the lady " to the manor born." She combined the opposite qualities of dignity and affability, and secured thereby a lasting influ- ence over those with whom she was associated. Blend- 340 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. ing a quick temper and high spirits, with much kindli- ness of heart she was, as is often the case with such natures, generous and forbearing toward loved ones, — determined and unyielding where her rights were in- vaded. Her affection for her father-in-law was intense, and he often testified his love for her. On one occasion, when receiving a deputation from the Keystone State, he remarked to them, " Gentle- men, I am very glad to see you, for I am much indebt- ed to Pennsylvania. She has given me a daughter who is a great comfort to her father." The tone and impressive manner convinced his hearers of the entire truth of his remark, while the look of affectionate pride bestowed upon her filled her heart with happiness. At the "White House, she shared the honors of host- ess with her kinswoman Mrs. Donelson, whose superior charms were gracefully acknowledged by Mrs. Jack- son, and acted in accordance with the President's sug- gestion to remain as the mistress of his own home. During the long period of ill health which accom- panied the declining years of General Jackson, his daughter ministered to him as a loving woman only can. Never for a moment was her watchful care withdrawn, but leaving all other duties, she fulfilled her mission well. The crowds of company which flocked to the Her- mitage were always smilingly received by her, and her name was dear to all who enjoyed the hospitality of the home of old Hickory. After the death of Mrs. Donelson and the failing health of her father, her task was one of severity, but the method and order ■ which LADIES 01 THE WHITE HOUSE. 341 reigned in and about her home — the attention she be- stowed upon her children, and the manner in which she cared for the dependent ones about her, attest her strong Christian character and convince us that her success was entire. Hospitality at the Hermitage was taxed in a scarcely less degree than Monticello had once been, and for many years Mrs. Jackson received the world's votaries at the shrine of greatness. In the constant whirlpool of society she never neg- lected the nursery, nor did her distinguished guests ever discover in her conduct the uneasiness she often silently endured. In addition to all this, there was a never ceasing demand on her time and brain for the welfare of her numerous dependents. She was a true friend to the slaves of the family, and the many helpless ones al- ways seen on a large plantation were her special prop- erty. The wants of the sick, the control of the young and the management of all, was a task only ap- preciated by those accustomed to an institution now extinct. On Sabbath evenings, for many years, it was her habit to have all who would choose to gather around, to hear her read of eternal life, and to in- struct the children in religious duties. Called to pass through great afflictions — to part with father and husband, and later to mourn the loss of a son in his early manhood, whose life was just bud- ding into promise of future usefulness, her sorrows rest now in her declining years heavily upon her. Her grief is sacred. During the civil war. whose earliest tocsin was 342 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOESE. sounded near her, and whose dying echoes reverberated alone the banks of the Cumberland, she remained in the lonely home of her happier youth, amid scenes which continually recall the unreturning past. In the quiet of a winters night, or even amid the beauty of a midsummer's day, she looks upon the tomb in the garden, and hallowed recollections fill her heart. Through the triumphs of life she has passed, and now in the eventide sits beside her graves. Now, as in early youth, she evinces her submission to the will of God, and the little church adjoining the Hermitasre is as sacred to her as it was dear to her adopted mother. In her present retirement with her children, of whom two remain to bless her evening of life, and grandchildren to cheer her with their innocent gaiety, let us hope that further trials may be spared her, and that even to the end she may enjoy the sweet security of a promise made to those like her, who have finished their course, and are called to enter into the joys of their Lord. LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 343 MRS. MARTIN VAN BUREN. TnE wife of President Van Buren was born at Kinderkook, on the Hudson, in the year 1782, a few months after the birth of her future husband, whose 1 schoolmate and companion she was during their early- years. She was of Dutch descent, and the original name Goes but pronounced by her ancestors Hoes, and since so called by all the members of the family in this country, is familiar to those who are acquainted with the history of the Netherlands. If the charms of nature — grand scenery, magnifi- cent views, and the ever-varying harmony of beautiful skies — could add to the growth and development of childhood, Hannah Hoes was incomparably blest. The years of her life were spent on the banks of the Hudson, in the most beautiful section of her native State — a State remarkable for the grandeur of its moun- tain scenery, and the number of its romantic rivers. Chief among these, and surpassed by none in the world, is the Hudson, in sight of whose classic waters she lived and died. Her ancestors were sturdy, enterprising Dutch, whose homes for many generations had been along the banks of the stream discovered by their renowned countryman, and not one of the rosy urchins of their households but knew of the adventures of Hendrick Hudson, and reverenced him not only as the hero of 344 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. their race and the discoverer of their river, but the founder of their prosperity. Nor could the tales of the old dames who resided nearest the lofty Catskills — that he and his followers still haunted the mountains and were the direct cause of calamities — divest their minds of his wondrous exploits. In each ripple of the dancing waves, in the denseness of the srev fo£, or perchance in the quiet stillness of eventide, they re- cognized some similarity, and recalled a parallel of his experiences. Mid such scenes and under such influences passed all the years of Mrs. Van Buren's life. In February, 1807, at the age of twenty-five, she was married to Mr. Van Buren. The intimacy which resulted in this union was formed in early childhood, and was consummated as soon as his position at the bar would justify his taking such a step. The steadfastness of his attachment to his young relative was a remarkable trait in the character of Mr. Van Buren, and adds a lustre to his unsullied name. Some time after their marriage they removed to Hudson City, where eight years of wedded life passed fleetly away, they losing, in the meantime, the young- est of their four sons, an infant only a few weeks old. In 1816, Mr. Van Buren removed his family to Albany, drawn thither, doubtless, by his increased and increasing professional standing and political leader- ship. From this time forth, the highest wishes of his early life were crowned with complete fruition. Wealth, fame and influence were the fruits of his un- LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 345 remitted industry for nearly twenty years. " His natural talents had reached their full expansion ; his laborious industry exhibited its proper results; and amid a constellation of great minds, whose brilliant efforts erected and adorned the fabric of New York jurisprudence, the vigor of his intellect and the rich- ness of his learning won for him a conspicuous and ac- knowledged eminence." But the voice of adulation fell upon unheeding ears when sickness invaded the household and hastened the cherished wife and mother from her loved ones. Not even the ardent devotion, the deathless affection of the husband whose efforts in life had all been made for her, could stay the destroyer in his cruel work. For months she lay an invalid, tended by those who loved her more than life, and then sank into the grave a vic- tim of consumption. A gentleman of high distinction, who knew her intimately from her earliest years, said, " there never was a woman of a purer and kinder heart." Gentle and winning in life, her memory is redolent with the perfume of her saintly sweetness and purity. From this point I quote the words of Miss Cantine, the niece of Mrs. Van Buren, wdio was but sixteen years of as;e at the time of her aunt's death. " Aunt Han- nah lived but a short time after their removal to Al- bany, dying at the early age of thirty-five, when her youngest child was still an infant. I can recall but little about her till her last sickness and death, except the general impression I have of her modest, even timid manner — her shrinking from observation, and 346 LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE. her loving, gentle disposition. The last, long sicknes3 (she was confined to the house for six months) and her death are deeply engraved on my memory. When told by her physicians that she could live, in all pro- bability, but a few days longer, she called her children to her and gave them her dying counsel and blessing, and with the utmost composure bade them farewell and committed them to the care of the Saviour she loved, and in whom she trusted. " This scene was the more remarkable to those who witnessed it, as, through the most of her sickness, she had been extremely nervous, being only able to see her children for a few moments on those days on which she was most comfortable. They could only go to her bedside to kiss her, and then be taken away. As an evidence of her perfect composure in view of death, I will mention this fact. It was customary in that day, at least it was the custom in the city of Albany, for the bearers to wear scarfs which were provided by the family of the deceased. Aunt requested that this might be omitted at her burial, and that the amount of the cost of such a custom should be given to the poor. Her wishes were entirely carried out."' The following obituary notice is in itself a sketch of the character of Mrs. Van Buren, and was written by one who knew her better than any one out of her own family. From the Albany Argus, Feb. 8th, 1819. "Died in this city, on the evening of Friday the 5th inst., after a lingering illness, Mrs. Hannah Van LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 347 Buren, wife of the Hon. Martin Van Buren, in the 36th year of her age. The death of this amiable and excel- lent woman is severely felt by a numerous circle of relatives and friends. As a daughter and a sister, wife and mother, her loss is deeply deplored, for in all these various relations she was affectionate, tender, and truly estimable. But the tear of sorrow is almost dried by the reflection that she lived the life, and died the death, of the righteous. Modest and unassuming, possessing the most engaging simplicity of manners, her heart was the residence of every kind affection, and glowed with sympathy for the wants and sufferings of others. Her temper was uncommonly mild and sweet, her bosom was filled with benevolence and content — no love of show, no ambitious desires, no pride of osten- tation ever disturbed its peace. When her attention was directed, some years before her death, to the im- portant concerns of religion and salvation, she presented to the gospel she embraced a rich soil for the growth and cultivation of every Christian principle. Humility was her crowning grace, she possessed it in a rare de- gree ; it took deep root and flourished full and fair, shedding over every action of her life its genial influence. She was an ornament of the Christian faith, exemplify- ing in her life the duty it enjoins, and experiencing, in a good degree, its heavenly joys, its cheering hopes. In her last illness she was patient and resigned. In the midst of life, with all that could make it worth possessing — esteemed and loved, happy in her family and friends — she was forced away. But she left all without a sigh. She waited the approach of death with 348 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. calmness — her Kedeeiner had robbed it of its sting and made it a welcome messenger. Doubtless, ' 'twas gain for her to die.' Doubtless, she is now enjoying that rest ' which remaineth for the people of God.' Pre- cious shall be the memory of her virtues, " Sweet the savor of her name, And soft her sleeping hed." ^sC f£~s£~ LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 349 MRS. ABRAM VAX BUREX. The era in which Mrs. Martin Van Buren lived ; was so far removed from her husband's ascension to the Presidency, that her life is of but little interest in connection with this period. She had been dead sev- enteen years, when, in 1837, he took possession of the White House. But for the presence of his accomplished daughter- in-law, his administration would have been socially a failure ; the prestige of his high position was not com- plete until the honors were shared with his young rel- ative. Angelica Singleton, the daughter of Richard Sin- gleton, Esq., was born in Sumpter District, South Carolina. Her grandfather, Singleton, and her great-grandfather General Richardson, served with distinction in the revolutionary war. On the ma- ternal side, her grandfather, John Coles, Esq., of Albemarle County, Virginia, was the intimate and valued friend of Presidents Jefferson and Madison, and two of his sons were respectively their private secretaries during their Presidential terms. Miss Singletons early advantages were in keeping with her elevated social position. To complete an ed- ucation superior to the generality of her sex at that day, she spent several years at Madame Grelaud's sem- inary, in Philadelphia. The winter previous to her 350 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. marriage, she passed in Washington, in the family of her kinsman, Senator William C. Preston. Soon after her arrival, her cousin, the justly celebrated Mrs. Madi- son, procured the appointment of a day to present her to the President, accompanied also by Senator Pres- ton's family. Her reception was a very flattering one, and she became a great favorite with President Van Buren. In November of the year following (1838), she was married at her father's residence, to Colonel, then Major, Van Buren, the President's eldest son, and his private secretary — a graduate of West Point and long an officer in the army. Her first appearance as the lady of the White House was on the following New Years day, when, supported by the ladies of the cabinet, she received with the President. The following brief, though favorable cotemporan- eous notice of that occasion is taken from a lon^ and racy account by a correspondent of the Boston Post, of the movements at the capital on New Year's day: — "The Executive Mansion was a place of much more than usual attraction in consequence of the first appearance there of the bride of the President's son and private secretary, Mrs. Abram Van Buren. She is represented as being a lady of rare accomplishments, very modest, yet perfectly easy and graceful in her manners, and free and vivacious in her conversation. She was universally admired a"nd is said to have borne the fatigue of a three hours' levee with a patience and pleasantry which must be inexhaustible to last one through so severe a trial. A constant current set from the President's house to the modest mansion of the LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 351 much respected lady of ex- President Madison. Ex- President Adams and his lady were also cordially greeted at their residence by a number of friends." Mrs. Van Buren is the only daughter of South Carolina who has graced the White House as hostess, and her life there was rendered as entirely agreeable as the combined influences of wealth, station, and re- finement could make it. The reminiscences of her early life carry us back to a period when South Caro- lina enjoyed the distinction of sharing with Virginia the honor of being the seat of elegant hospitality and refined culture. Under the benign influences of a matchless climate and great wealth, the people of the Palmetto State enjoyed the leisure and opportunity of developing all those characteristics which adorn hu- manity and render life attractive. The citizens of this state were fortunate in beinsr the descendants of the best families of Virginia, and Mrs. Van Buren is a most pleasing representation of this old aristocracy. The degradation of the manners and morals of the country, infecting as it does every part of our national character, which we know has undermined the aristo- cratic tendencies of southern society, but renders the contemplation of a representative of the past all the more pleasing, and in the subject of our sketch we have the purest type of a class once powerful, now rapidly becoming extinct. The position of Mrs, Van Buren's family was al- ways such that all the avenues of intellectual enjoy- ment were open to her, while her natural endowments w r ere of that high order which rendered cultivation 352 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. rapid and pleasant. Added to her many gifts, was the irresistible one of beauty of form and deportment. The engraving, from a portrait by " Inman," painted soon after the time of which I write, represents the exceed- ing loveliness of her charming person. More potent than mere regularity of features is the gentle winning expression of her clear black eyes ; and the smile about her finely chiselled lips betokens the proud serenity of her most fortunate life. Mrs. Van Buren was, on her mother's side, de- scended from a long line of ancestors, and the genealog- ical tables of the family discover many of the leading names of American politicians and statesmen. Aside from mere wealth, they possessed abilities which, in many instances, secured them the highest position in the gift of their government. Prominent among these was her uncle, Mr. Stevenson, minister to Eng- land. In the spring of 1839, Colonel aud Mrs. Van Buren made a rapid visit to Europe, returning at the request of the President in the following fall in time for the session of Congress. While abroad, they enjoyed the most unusual social advantages, being members of the President's family, and she a niece of the American ambassador, who had been a resident of London several years. They were in London during the whole of the " season " of the year following the queen's coronation, which derived especial brilliancy from the presence of the present Emperor of Russia, Prince Henry of Orange, and other foreigners of note. No American lady has ever visited Europe under similar circumstances. Nor has any of her country- LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE. 353 women made a more lasting impression than did this young representative of the President's family. By her cultivated, unassuming manners she made herself most agreeable to the court circles of England, and maintained in the saloons of royalty the simplicity and dignity of her republican education. Mrs. Stevenson was the chaperon of Mrs. Van Buren on all public occasions, and the recollections of evenings spent with her at " Almack's," at the" Palace, and in the society of the cultured and noble, will al- ways gladden the heart of the niece who survives her. Major Van Buren's position as private secretary rendered their unexampled and most fortunate visit to England of short duration. To reach America before the meeting of Congress, they left London for the continent. In the course of their hurried tour, they passed some weeks in Paris, and were presented by the American minister, General Cass, to the king and queen. They were invited to dine at St. Cloud, and were received with the kind unceremonious manner which, it is well known, distinguished all the members of that branch of the Orleans family. After dinner, Louis Philippe conducted them through the rooms of the Palace, even to the door of the sleeping-apart- ment, as he supposed, of his grandson, the Comte de Paris, at which he knocked without obtaining any re- sponse. The queen, having been told by Mrs. Van Buren on her return of what had happened, said, laughingly, " Ah ! that is all the king knows about it ! After his mother left with the Due D'Orleans for Al- giers, I caused the child to be removed to a room 23 354 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. nearer my own." She then proposed to send for him, and for her "Wurtemberg grandchild also, but unfortu- nately for the gratification of her guest's natural curi- osity, the little princes were fast asleep. After the expiration of President Van Buren's term of office, "MfS. Van Buren and her husband lived with him at Lindenwald through several years of his retirement, passing much of the winter months with her parents in South Carolina, and in 1S48 establish- ing themselves in the city of New York, which has since been their home uninterruptedly, except by visits to the South, rendered necessary by the death of her father and the consequent charge of her patrimonial estate, and by a three years' absence in Europe, super- intending the education of their sons. The spring time of her youth has passed, but the glorious summer of her womanhood is upon her, in which she is garnering the beautiful fruits of wisdom and goodness. Mrs. Van Buren's entire existence has been one of prosperity, but it has not rendered her selfish ; it has rather, on the contrary, induced the employment of her gifts in behalf of others. To the young of her sex who are aspiring for a pure and useful standard of womanly womanhood, we point with just pride to her worthy example. ~No fame is more glorious than hers, insomuch as it encourages the development of all that is ennobling and beautiful in humanity. She has known sorrow in the early death of two of her children ; and in later years the loss of relatives and friends has cast a momentary gloom about her. But her inner life is too harmonious and serene to LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 355 allow any trouble to crush her. In the pleasant re- flections of the past and bright anticipations of the future, she remains a happy participator in the scenes of the present, and is a unique and charming example of a "noble woman nobly planned." 356 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. MRS. WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. Ansa Symmes, the wife of the ninth. President of the United States, was born the famous year of American Independence, and but a few months after the renown- ed skirmish at Lexington. Her birth-place was near Morristown, New Jersey, the scene of suffering the fol- lowing year, where the tracts of the n 1 1-stained feet of the soldiers attested their forlorn condition. Soon after her birth, which occured the 25th of July, 1775, her mother died. Bereft of her care, she was thrown upon her father's hands, for these attentions necessary for one of such a tender age. which until her fourth year he carefully bestowed Her maternal grand- parents, Mr. and Mrs. Tuthill, were residing at South- hold, Long Island, and thither at the age of four years she was taken by her surviving parent. The incidents of her journey from Morristown to Long Island, then in the possession of the British, she remembered through life. Her father, the Hon. John Clevea Symmes, igh at the time a Colonel in the Continental army, was so anxious to place his daughter with her grand- mother, that he assumed the disguise of a British offi- cer's uniform and successfully accomplished his perilous undertaking. Leaving her in the home from which he had taken her mother years before, he joined his own troops and served \*ith distinction during the war. Not until aft vacnation of New York, in the fall LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 357 of 1783, did the father and child meet again, nor did she return to his New Jersey home. Under the care of her excellent grandmother, she became early imbued with a love of religious reading, and learned those early habits of industry which the young under the right influences early attain. Mrs. Tuthill was a godly woman, whose soul had been deeply stirred by the preaching of Whitfield, whom she greatly reverenced and admired. From her lips the little Anna received her first religious instructions, the good impressions of which lasted her through life. She often remarked that " from her earliest childhood, the frivolous amuse- ments of youth had no charms for her.' 1 " If ever con- strained to attend places of fashionable amusement, it was to gratify others and not herself." In this early home of quiet and retirement, she acquired habits of order and truthfulness which characterized her conduct in after-years. Her hands even as a child were never idle, but as a Christian virtue she was trained to dili- gence, prudence, and economy. When old enough to attend school, she was placed at a seminary in East Hampton, where she remained some time, and subse- quently she was a pupil of Mrs. Isabelle Graham, and an inmate of her family in New York City. Here she readily acquired knowledge, and improved the oppor- tunities afforded her. For her teacher she ever retain- ed the highest regard, and cherished the memory of that pious and exemplary woman through all the changes of her own life. At the age of nineteen she bade adieu to her aged grand-parents, and accompanied her father and step- 358 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. mother to Ohio, in 1 794. A year previous to this time, Judge Symmes had located a small colony of settlers who had accompanied him from Xew Jersey, at a point on the Ohio river, afterward known as Xorth Bend. Returning to the Eastern States, he married Miss Susan Livingston, a daughter of Governor Livingston, of New York, and in the autumn started again, accompanied by his wife and daughter, for his frontier home. The journey was made with great difficulty, and the party did not reach Xorth Bend until the rnorning of the 1st of January, 179$. Thus was the youthful Anna a pioneer in the land which she lived to see blossoming as the rose under the hands of civilization and material progression. Jud^e Svmmes was one of the Associate Judges of the Supreme Court- of the jSTorth Western Territory, and was often called to attend Court in a distant part of the Territory. During the absence of her father on these journeyings, Anna would spend most of her time with an elder sister, who had previously removed to Lexington, Kentucky. It was while on one of these a to her sister, Mrs. Peyton Short, that she formed the acquaintance of her future husband, then Captain Harrison * of the United States Army, and in com- * William Henry Harrison, the third and youngest son of Benjamin HarrisoD, of Virginia, was bom the 9th day of February, 1773, at Berkley on the James river, about twenty-five miles below Richmond, in Charles City County. His father was a signer of the Declaration of Independence, a member of the Continental Congress, and afterward Governor of Vir- ginia. Tonng Harrison was educated at Hampden Sydney College, and afterward studied medicine. After bis father's death in 1791, he becamo tho ward of Robert Morris, the celebrated financier, wbose private for- tune so often relieved the sufferings of tbe Continental Armv. When LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 3 59 mand of Fort Washington, the present site of Cincin nati. The youthful Virginian was much attracted by the gentle, modest manners and the sweet face of Anna Symmes, and he determined on winning her hand. The effort was highly successful, for they were married at her father's house, North Bend, Ohio, November 22d, 1795. Thus, in less than one year after her removal from her childhood's home, in the twentieth year of her age, Anna Symmes became the wife of Captain Harrison, subsequently the most popular General of his day and President of the United States. Soon after their marriage, Captain Harrison re- signed his commission in the army, and was elected the first deligate to Congress from the North West Terri- tory. Mrs. Harrison accompanied him to Philadelphia, then the seat of the General Government, but spending, however, most of the session in visiting her husband's relatives in Virginia. From those who knew Mrs. Harrison at this period of her life, is given the assurance that she was very handsome. Her face was full of animation and kind- liness, and her health, which was perfectly robust, add- ed a glow to her features, very pleasing to behold. Her figure was not large, but a happy medium, al- about to graduate as a physician, the reports of troubles in the West de- cided him to join the frontier troops. The opposition of his excellent guardian was not sufficient to deter him from his purpose, and as his de- sign was approved by Washington, who had also been a warm friend of his father, he received from that noble warrior an ensign's commission in the first regiment of United States Artillery, then stationed at Fort Washington. 360 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. though rather inclined to "become reduced upon the slightest occasion. Later in life, as her health grew more delicate, she looked much smaller than when in youth's bright morn she became a bride. In a letter received by her in 1840, from a friend who had known her at eighteen years of age, this passage occurs: "I suppose I should not recognize any thing of your pres- ent countenance, for your early days have made such an impression upon my mind that I cannot realize any countenance for you but that of your youth, on which nature had been so profusely liberal." In the pictures I have seen of her, her face exhibits a very intel- lectual and animated expression, and there are traces of former beauty in the delicate features and bright black eyes. When the Indiana Territory which now forms the State of Indiana, was formed out of a portion of the old North Western Territory, General Harrison was appointed its first Governor by President Adams. He removed his family to the old French town of Vintennes, on the Wabash, then the seat of the Terri- torial Government, where Mrs. Harrison lived for many years a retired but veryhappy life. Dispensing with a liberal hand and courteous man- ner the hospitality of the Gubernatorial Mansion, she was beloved and admired by all who knew her. Gen- eral Harrison retained this position during the admin- istrations of Adams, Jefferson, and Madison, until the inglorious surrender of Hull, in 1812, when he was ap- pointed to the command of the north-western army. Mrs. Harrison remained in Yincennes during the fal> LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 36'j of 1811, while her husband was marching with his small force to disband the tribes of hostile Indiana gathering for battle at Prophet's Town, and was there when the news of the battle of Tippecanoe reached her. But she rejoiced that it was over, and the for- midable combinations of Tecumseli and the Prophet were dissipated forever. Henceforth the settlers might work in peace, for the foot of the red man came never again across the Wabash with hostile intent. The battle-ground of Tippecanoe, the scene of Gen- eral Harrisons dearly bought triumph, after the lapse of more than half a century, is as quiet and green as a village churchyard. A low white paling fence sur- rounds it, and the trees are tall and carefully pruned of undergrowth. Mounds, so frequently observed in the west, and here and there a quaint wooden head- board marks the spot of some brave soldier's fall. The train as it rushes from Lafayette through what was formerly a wilderness, to the west, gives the traveller but a moment to look upon this historic spot, but the passing view repays one for the effort made to see it, and the effect on a thoughtful nature is mournfully pleasant. One forgets all the hearts which were bro- ken, all the hopes blasted that fatal 7th of Xovember morning, when the savages rushed unexpectedly upon the weary troops, sleeping after the exhaustive fatigue of travel. It is not of them as individuals which makes one feel a glow of patriotism in viewing this silent place, but the principles for which they fought have been vindicated, and their burying-ground hal- lowed. These thoughts rise when looking upon a for- 362 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. mer field of carnage and deadly strife. Where now wild flowers cover the ground with beauty, and birds in the silent trees fill the air with melody, where the stars shed a soft, holy light, and the universal nature covers the ravages of time with a mantle of turf, — was once the slaughter ground of a race rapidly passing away. After the battle of Tippecanoe, General Harrison removed his family to Cincinnati, and accepted the po- sition of Major-General in the forces of Kentucky, then about to march to the relief of the Xorth Wes1 Territory. Mrs. Harrison was thus left a comparative stranger in Cincinnati, with the sole charge of her yonng and large family of children during the greater part of bh war of 1612. Bur:: time, several of the chil ] were prostrated by long and severe illness, and to this trial was added the painful anxiety attending the fate of her husband. But under these and all afflictions. Mrs. Harrison bore np with the firmness of a Eoman matron, and the hurniihy and resignation of a tried Christian mother. In 1S14, General Harrison resigned his position in the army and went to live at North Bend, fifteen miles below Cincinnati, on the Ohio. In the limits of this sketch it is impossible to give all the interesting de- tails of Mrs. Harrison's lire during her thirty years' residence at the old homestead. Manv, very manv of her acts of neighborly kindness and Christian charity will never be known on earth, for she shrank from any exposition of her benevolence. LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 363 General Harrison being much from home, engaged in public affairs, she was left in the control of her large family of ten children, and ofttimes the children of her friends and neighbors. Schools in that new and unset- tled country were " few and far between," and Mrs. Harrison always employed a private tutor. The gen- erous hospitality of North Bend being so well known, *it was not surprising that many of the children of the neighborhood became inmates of her family for as long as they chose to avail themselves of the privileges of the little school. Although at this time in delicate health, Mrs. Har- rison never wearied or complained in the discharge of domestic duties, and forgot the multiplied cares she as- sumed in the thought of the benefit the children of others would derive from such an arrangement. She was sustained by her husband, and loved by her chil- dren and servants, and the burden was lightened spir- itually, if not materially. But here commenced the long series of trials which tested her character, and chastened her heart. During her thirty years' life at North Bend, she buried one child in infancy, and subsequently followed to the grave three daughters and four sons, all of whom were settled in life, and ten grandchildren. In view of these bereavements she wrote to her pastor, " And now what shall I say to these things ; only, ' Be still and know that I am God. 1 You will not fail to pray for me and my dear son and daughter who are left. For I have no wish for my children and grandchildren than to see them the humble followers of the Lord Jesus.' 1 364 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. Her influence over her family was strong and abid- ing and all loved to do reverence to her consistent, conscientious life. Her only surviving son wrote in 184S, "That I am a firm believer in the religion of Christ is not a virtue of mine. I imbibed it at my mother's breast, and can no more divest myself of it than I can of my nature." The same was true of all her children, and what* errors they might embrace, they could not forget the religion of their mother, nor wander far from the pre- cepts, for " whatever is imbibed with the mother's milk, lasts forever for weal or for woe." The following inci- dent will show that her precepts and examples as a mem- ber of the church were not unappreciated by her hus- band. In 1 510, during the Presidential canvass, a dele- gation of politicians visited North Bend on the Sab- bath. General Harrison met them near his residence and extending his hand, said: " Gentlemen. I should be most happy to welcome you on any other day, but if I have no regard for religion myself, I have too much re- spect for the religion of my wife to encourage the vio- lation of the Christian sabbath." In 1S36, General Harrison was first nominated for the Presidency. Mrs. Harrison was much annoyed by even the remote possibility of his election. There were no less than three candidates of the old federal party in the field, and the triumph of either was al- most an impossibility. Yet even this probability of having to break up the retirement of her old home at North Bend and be thrown in the station of fashion and position in Washington, filled the heart of Mrs LADIES .OP THE WHITE HOUSE. 365 Harrison with dismay. When the trio of candidates had defeated themselves and elected the champion of the Democracy, Mrs. Harrison felt heartily glad that her quiet was again restored, and she contemplated with renewed delight, the happy contentment of her western home on the banks of the sparkling flowing river. In 1S40, the Federal party had ceased to exist ; the opponents of Jackson and the system which emanated from his administration had taken the name of the Whig party, and Harrison, the sagacious Governor of the Northwestern Territory, the successful General, and later the farmer of North Bend, was the chosen of the people, and the idol of his party. The canvass, for months before the day of the election, carried the most intense excitement and un- bounded enthusiasm throughout the Union. The pecuniary difficulties of the country, during the past administration, left the people an opportunity for po- litical gatherings. Financial prostration and hopeless bankruptcy paralyzed the various trades ; and in the workshop, as in the counting-house, in the streets, in the fields, in vacant factories and barns, in the me- chanic's, as in the artisan's room, were heard debates of the. pending question. Everywhere long proces- sions with mottoed banners were seen marching to music, and throughout the land was heard the famous old " Tippecanoe and Tyler too," and " Van is a used up man," campaign songs. Never before or since was such interest manifested, and never again will there be the same admiration expressed for any aspirant to 366 LADIES OF THE WHITE. HOUSE. public honors. Log cabins, illustrative of General Harrison's early days, were " raised " everywhere, and u companies "' visited from place to place, equipped in handsome uniforms, and accompanied by bands of music. The whigs struggled manfully to elect their candidate, bringing to their service powerful appeals in the forms of stirring song, executed by youths in the streets, and dwelling continually upon the re- sumption of specie payment, revival of languishing trade, and public retrenchment and economy. The result was such as every one expected. General Har- rison was elected President by a large majority, and John Tyler of Virginia was chosen Vice President. This triumphant victory brought no sense of pride or elation to Mrs. Harrison. She was grateful to her countrymen for this unmistakable appreciation of the civil and military services ofher husband, and rejoiced at his vindication over his traducers, but she took no pleasure in contemplating the pomp and circumstance of a life at the Executive Mansion. At no period of her life had she any taste for the gayeties of fashion or the dissipations of society. Her friends were ever welcomed to her home, and found there refined pleas- ures and innocent amusements, but for the life of a woman of the world she had no sympathy. General Harrison left his home in February, and wa? received in Washington with every demonstration of respect, and welcomed by Mayor Seaton in a speech delivered at City Hall. It was raining hard when he left the railroad dept>t, yet he walked with his hat in his hand, accompanied by an immense concourse of peo- LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 307 pie. He went from Washington to his old home in Virginia for a few clays, but returned in time for the Inauguration. The morning of the 4th of March, 1841, was ushered in by a salute of twenty-six guns. The clay was devoted entirely to pleasure. The city of Washington was thronged with people, many of whom were from the most distant States of the Union The procession was in keeping with the enthusiasm and interest displayed throughout the campaign. Ladies thronged the windows, and waved their hand- kerchiefs in token of kind feelings, while the wild huzzas of the opposite sex filled the air with a deafen- ing noise. General Harrison was mounted on a white charger, accompanied by several personal friends, and his immediate escort were the officers and soldiers who had fought under him. Canoes and cabins, covered with appropriate mottoes, were conspicuous, and the scene was one of universal splendor. Mrs. Harrison's health, delicate for many years, was particularly frail in February when her husband left home for Washington, and her physicians protested against her crossing the mountains at that season of the year, and urged her remaining in Ohio until the opening of spring. General Harrison was accompanied to Washington by his claughter-in-law, Mrs. Jane F. Harrison, the widow of his namesake son, and her two sons. She was a very refined accomplished person, and exceedingly popular during her short stay as mis- tress of ceremonies at the White House. Besides Mrs. Jane F. Harrison, there were several ladies of the President's family residing temporarily with her, until 365 LADIES 01' THE WHITE HOUSE. Mrs. Ha should come on. Mrs. Findlay, the wife of General Findlay and aged aunt of Mrs. Harrison, Miss Ramsay, a cousin, and Mrs. Lucy S. Taylor, of Richmond, Virginia, a niece of the President's, these were the occupants of. the mansion the few short week- of the President's life, for in one month from the day of his inauguration, he died. Pneumonia was the avowed cause, but it was the applicants for office who killed him. He was weak and aged, and unac- customed to the confined life forced upon him in his new position, and the gentle kindness with which he received all who were clamoring for office, did but in- spire them with renewed ardor. The whig party had been out of power many years, and the greed of the politicians snapped the tendrils of the veteran's declin- ing years and sent him to the tomb before the glad notes of the inauguration anthem had (lied over the Virginia hills. President Harrison uied the 4th of April, 1841, and on the 7th was laid temporarily rest in the Congressional burying-gronnda The aer- vice was performed in the "White House, by Pev. Mr. Hawley, in the presence of President Tyler, ex-Presi- dent Adams, members of the cabinet, of Congress, and the foreign ministers. The procession was two miles in length, and was marshalled on its way by officers on h k carrying white batons with black tassels. At the grounds, the liturgy of the Episcopal church was recited by Mr. Hawley. t: The coffin hav- ing been placed in the receiving vault, and the mili- tary salute having been fired, the procession resumed its march to the city, and by rive o'clock that evening LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 369 nothing remained but empty streets, and the emblems of mourning upon the houses, and the still deeper gloom which oppressed the general mind with renewed power after all was over, and the sense of the public bereavement alone was left to fill the thoughts. The following touching lines, from the gifted pen of N. P. Willis, remarkable for their pathos and harmony, need no apology for being introduced here. The grandeur and simple beauty of the swelling poem deserve a more lasting record than transitory verses usually receive. What soared the old eagle to die at the sun, . Lies he stiff with spread wings at the goal he has won ! Are there spirits more blest than the planet of even Who mount to their zenith, then melt into heaven? Xo waning of fire, no quenchiug of ray, But rising, still rising, when pussing away ! Farewell, gallant eagle ! thou'rt buried in light ! God-speed unto Heaven, lost star of our night ! Death ! Death in the White House ! ah, never before Trod his skeleton foot on the President's floor ; He is looked for in hovel and dreaded in hall, The king in his closet keeps hatchments and pall, The youth in his birth-place, the old man at home, Make clean from the door-stone the path to the tomb ; But the lord of this mansion was cradled not here, In a churchyard far off stands his beckoning bier : He is here as the wave crest heaves flashing on high, As the arrow is stopp'd by its prize in the sky — N The arrow to earth, and the foam to the shore, Death finds them when swiftness and shankle are o'er; But Harrison's death fills the climax of story: He went with his old stride from glory to glory. Lay his sword on his breast ! there's no spot on its blade In whose cankering breath his bright laurels will fade: 24 370 LADIES 01 THE WHITE HOUSE. Twas the first to lead on at humanity's call, It was 6tay'd with street mercy when "glory" was all ; As calm in the conncil as gallant in war, He fought for his country, and not its "hurrah ! " In the path of the hero with pity he trod, Let him pass with his sword to the presence of God! What more ? Shall we on with his ashes ? Yet stay ! He hath raled the wide realm of a king in his day ; At his word, like a monarch's, went treasure and land, The bright gold of thousands has passed through his hand. Ts there nothing to show of his flittering hoard ? 2so jewels to deck the rude hilt of his sword — ]so tappings— no horses? what had he? But now, On, on with his ashes ! he left but his plough ! Brave old Cincinnatus ! unwind ye his sheet : Let him deeg is he lived, — with his purse at his feet. Oow now a* ye list : the first mourner to-day Is the nation — whose father is taken away. . children, and neighbor may moan at his knell — Be was ''lover and friend"' to his country as well ! For the stars on our banner grown suddenly dim Let cs weep, in our darkness — but weep not for him. Xot for him, who, departing, leaves millions in tears ; Not for him, who has died full of honor and years : From the round at the top he has stepped to the sky — It is blessed to go, when so ready to die ! The members of President Harrison's family im- mediately vacated the Executive Mansion, and the grief-stricken widow ceased the preparations for her prolonged absence from home. What a shock this death must have been to her ! Fur many months an interested spectator, if not an actor, in the stirring events of the canvass and election, afterward a sharer in the triumphs of her husband, and for weeks antici- pating the happy reunion in the mansion of the Presi- LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 371 dents, to be rudely torn by fate from his presence for ever, and to see every hope lying crushed around her; would have harrowed a nature of coarsest mould. She was summoned from the busy care of forwarding some matter of interest to be told that he was dead. Dead ! she could scarcely believe the evidences of her senses ! Dead! or was she mistaken in what was said to her? His last letter was before her, and she had scarcely ceased reading the accounts in the papers of the mag- nificence of the inauo-ural balls. O Howsoever cruel the blow, it was bome meekly and humbly by the Christian wife and mother, and she aroused herself from the stupor in which the an- nouncement had thrown her. In July, the remains of the sincerely regretted President and deeply mourned husband and father were removed to their present resting place at North Bend. Had her husband lived, Mrs. Harrison would have gone to Washington and discharged faithfully and courteously the duties of her position. But her resi- dence there would not have been in accordance with her wishes or her taste. She continued to reside at her old home, where the happiest years of her life had been spent, until the autumn of 1855, when she removed from the old homestead to the residence of her only surviving son, Hon. J. Scott Harrison, five miles below North Bend, on the Ohio Biver. She remained an inmate of his family until her death. During the latter part of her life, she had manv 372 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. and severe attacks of illness, and perhaps nothing but the skill and devoted medical services of her physi- cians and the almost idolatrous attentions of her granddaughters, kept the lamp of her life nickering so lono-. Her grandsons, too, claimed their share in this " labor of love," and when the telegraph bore to their distant homes the tidings of her illness, they came with their wives to wait at her bedside, and whatever of business was suspended or neglected, their attentions to her were not relaxed for a moment. In a recent letter received from a granddaughter of Mrs. Harrison's, this paragraph occurs : " Of many of the facts of her later life I was an eye-witness, as I was an inmate of my father's family for three years previous to her death, and had the inestimable privilege of see- ing her beautiful Christian resignation and conformity to the will of God as life drew to its close. Indeed, it was upon my breast that she breathed her precious life away.'" 3Irs. Harrison was not indifferent to the political events of the asre in which she lived, and few were better informed with regard to public men and meas- ures than herself. Much of her time she spent in reading, during the closing years of her life, and she kept herself informed, through the medium of the daily papers, of the transactions of the outside world. Very few persons of even younger years took a greater in- terest in the movements of the armies during the late civil war, or could give a more succinct and graphic account of the details of a campaign. She was not radical in her sentiments, and in« LADIES OF TEE WHITE HOUSE. 373 dulged in no preconceived prejudices against the South and its peculiar institutions. In regard to the holding of slaves, she was willing that all should "be fully persuaded in their own minds as to its propriety, but her own convictions were strongly against it. " Many of her grandsons were officers and soldiers in the Union army, and as occasion would permit, they would visit her to ask her blessing and her prayers. The one was given, and the other promised with a patriotic zeal and ardor that many of the sterner sex mio-ht well have emulated. " During- the war, a grandson and member of the family in which she resided, came home on a brief leave of absence. The day of his departure arrived, and he went to the chamber of his grandmother to take what he supposed to be his last farewell in this life, as she was then confined to her bed w T ith a severe illness. She received him with great affection, and in reply to his expressions of regret at leaving her, she said, l Oh, no, my son, your country needs your servi- ces, I do not. Go and discharge your duty faithfully and fearlessly. I feel that my prayers in your behalf will be heard, and that you will be returned in safety. And yet, perhaps, I do not feel as much concerned for you as I should : I have parted so often with your grandfather under similar circumstances, and he was always returned to me in safety, that I feel it will be the same with you.'" The young Captain did return to see his grand- mother again in this life after several hard fought bat- ties, in which he received complimentary notice from 374 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. bis comraandino- officers. The letter is thus concluded: " My husband, Dr. Eaton, one of her physicians being in the house and an invalid, spent much of his time in her room, and would often say to me, 'I never met a more entertaining person than your grandma. I could sit for hours and listen to her conversation.' Such is not often said, by a man in the prime of life, of an old lady nearly ninety years of age. Since then be has gone to join her in her heavenly home." 3Irs. Harrison's distinguishing characteristics were her Christian humility and total want of selfishness ; her modest, retiring manners and generosity and be- nevolence. She was always anxious to promote the well-being of others at her own expense, and sacrificed herself for the good of others. Many incidents of generosity are remembered and Treasured by her descendants, which though not of sufficient interest to record, are of priceless value to those who witnessed their exhibition, and were recipi- ents of her beneficence. Every public and private charity was near her heart, and received liberally from her hand. But those who enjoyed her bounty, knew not of its source. To a poor minister she would write : " Accept this trifle from a friend." To the Bethel Sabbath-school, " This is but a widow's mite." To the suffering poor of the city, "Please distribute this from one who wishes it was a thousand times more." She continued to bear on her praying lips the sal- vation of her descendants, and as she drew near the closing scene, this was her song: LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 375 " Just as I am, without one plea But that thy hlood was shed for me, And that thou bidd'st me come to thee,— O, Lamb of God ! I come." Her intellectual powers and physical senses were retained to the last, and at the age of eighty-eight she was an agreeable companion for both old and young. On the evening of the 25th of February, 1864, in the eighty-ninth year of her age, Mrs. Harrison died at the residence of her son. Her funeral took place at the Presbyterian Church at Cleves, on Sunday, February the 28th. The sermon was preached by the Kev. Horace Bushnell, from the text, "Be still and know that I am God." The selec- tion was made by herself and given several years be- fore to Mr. Bushnell, her pastor and intimate friend for many years. The remains were deposited beside those of her husband, and they together sleep by the banks of the beautiful Ohio at North Bend. 376 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. LETITIA CHRISTIAN TTLER, The first wife of John Tyler, tenth President of the United States, was the third daughter of Robert Chris- tian, Esq.. of Cedar Grove, in Xew Kent County, in the Stare of Virginia ; a gentleman of good private fortune, an earnest Federalist of that day in his political opin- ions, and an attached friend and adherent of George Washington. He possessed the highest social and po- litical influence in the county of his residence, and, in- toed, throughout the Peninsular District, embraced be- tween the York and James rivers. His house was the seat of genuine Virginia hospitality, and his neighbors, trusting implicitly to his good sense and integrity, ap- pealed to his arbitration in matters involving legal controversy, in preference to submitting their cases in the courts. For many consecutive years, he was not only the presiding magistrate of his county, but also its representative in the Legislature of the State: and his brothers, among whom was the late Major Edmund Christian, of Creighton, Marshal of Virginia, were men of mark and influence. This worthy gentleman married in early life Mary Brown, an amiable lady of high worth and character, with whom he lived in happiness until her death, and through whom he was blessed with a larsre family of sons and daughters ; the males being, without exception, distinguished for their personal courage, intelligence, 9*$ - LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 377 and graceful appearance and manners, and the daugh ters for their beauty, piety, and domestic virtues. Among that bevy of fair daughters, Letitia, after- ward Mrs. Tyler, born on the 12th November, 1790, under the paternal roof at Cedar Grove, was, perhaps, the most attractive in her modest refinement and striking loveliness of person and character ; and although al- ways instinctively shrinking from public observation, she was regarded as one of the belles of Eastern Vir- ginia. Her hand was sought in marriage by many suitors, but from the number who presented them- selves — some of whom were the possessors of large es- tates — her heart and excellent judgment selected the then talented and rising young lawyer, who, inheriting the unrivalled popularity of his father, Governor John Tyler, with a mind still more brilliant and cultivated, was just entering upon that remarkable career which has so directly and powerfully impressed his genius, not only on the history of his noble, old state, but on that of the United States of America. The marriage of the youthful pair, on the 29th of March, 1813, she being in the twenty-second year of her age, and he having completed his twenty-third on that day, was particularly acceptable to both houses ; and Letitia being tue ^°^ °f ner ^ rotners an ^ sis- ters, upon Mr. Tyler was at once concentrated the unfailing affection and support — an affection and support which attended him through life— of every member of the numerous and powerful Christian family, harmonizing to no inconsiderable extent in Lower Virginia, and uniting in his favor both of the great political parties of the day— his own 37S LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. father having been, privately and publicly, the cobs: ant friend of Henry and of Jefferson, a leader in the movement and war of Independence, and the q representative of the State Righto Republicans in his own right, and Mr. Robert Christian fa ; >een the constant friend of Washington, and a prominent 1, and representative man among til V leraB The wedding festivities over, Mr. ai . Tyler retired to their own home in Cha: part of the " Green - -.ate of his father, which at once became an object of attraction and u inter- est to the many admi and relativ happy inmates. Dating from this period until Mrs. Tvler's death in the ' ::, at the city of Washington, nearly thirty years afterw;. :i ing, except the loss of two infant children an abse- quent ill-health, eve. I to mar the felicit this anspicions union. In the unselfish, constant, and vigilant affection of his wife, in her p I charms, in her strong common 83nse and excellc aent, in her un: religious sentiments, in the bi I pnrhV gent her parental and filial devotion, in her watchful and love for her children, Mr. Tyl thing to satisfy his affections and to gra - ie. In his admitted integrity and worth as a man and citizen, in his great intellectual powers, in his con- stantly increasing prosperity and rising reputation, in the accounts she received of his eloqu h at the bar and in the legislature, and in the hisrh official trust3 which ultimately were literally showered upon him, LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE. 379 one after the other, almost without intermission ; and finally In his tender solicitude to restore her failing health and to minister to her slightest wish, she dis red all that h?r woman's heart, or her feminine ambition required, to complete and. secure her wedded iness. The following letter, the first that Mr. ventured to address to her before marriage and the original of which is still preserved in the fami- ly — apart from the natural simplicity of its style and the ordinary interest that would attach to it — not only nta the most unmistakable evidence of the sound an 1 healthy sentiments, emotions, and principles of character associated with both and impelling to their ■•, but it is also a remarkable illustration, in view of a -ment prior to marriage, of the deli- am! exalted purity of the social structure and civilization that surrounded them and under whose happy influence- they were born and reared. : iimoxd, December oth, 1312. ■ Although I could not entirely obtain your per- mission t > write to you, yet I am well aware that yon will not be displeased at my exercising a privilege so valuable to one standing in the relation that I do to you. To think of you and to write to you, are the only sources from whence I can derive any real satis- faction during my residence in this place. The pre- rogative of thinking of those we love, and from whom we are separated, seems to be guaranteed to us by na- ture, as we cannot be deprived of it either by the bus- tle and confusion of a town, or by the important duties 350 LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE. that attach to oar existence. Believe me, my L., that this " : v.tion has "been completely verified by me saw yon, for although deafened by noise, and h ? to the duties of my station, yet you are the subject of my serious meditations and the object of my : ravers to heaven. From the first mo- ment of mv acquaintance with you, I felt the influence of genuine affection ; but now, when I reflect upon the ;ice which you make to virtue and to feeling, by conferring your hand on me, who have nothing to : of but an honest and upright soul, and a heart it love. I feel gratitude . ided to affection i yon. Indeed, I do esteem myself most rich in pos- Bessing yon. The mean and sordid wretch who yields i d g her whom he ardent- res, may 1 tof his ill-acquired wealth, and display his treasures in all the pride of ostentation to the wor* .". nf II administer to him comfort in the hour of am::::::: ! Whose seraph smile shall chase away the fiends which torment him \ The partner of his bosom he neither esteems nor regards, and he knows nothing of the balm which tender affection can bestow. Nature will be still true to herself, for as your favorite Thomson espresses it, •• ■ : t love can answer love, Or raider Hise a:::i.' •' Yon express some degree nishment, my L., ation I once m you, 'that I would en willinglv wealthy at the time that I ad- dresE ..' Suffer me to repeat it I: I had been LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE. 381 wealthy, the idea of your being actuated by prudential considerations in accepting my suit, would have eter- nally tortured me. But I exposed to you frankly and unblushingly my situation in life— my hopes and my fears, my prospects and my dependencies — and you no- bly responded. To ensure to you happiness is now my only object, and whether I float or sink in the stream of fortune,- you may be assured of this, that I shall never cease to love you. Forgive me for these re- marks, which I have been irresistibly led to make. " Colonel Christian will deliver you this letter, to- gether with the two first volumes of the ' Forest of Montabano. 1 I do not trouble him with the last two volumes, for fear of incommoding him, and because I shall be at your father s on Wednesday evening, if the business before the Legislature be not very important. You will feel much sympathy for the unfortunate An- gelina, and admiration for the character of good Father Patrick. Frederick is inexplicable until the last vol- ume is read. " Again suffer me to assure you of my constant es- teem and affection, and believe me to be yours most faithfully, John Tyler. " To Miss Letitia Christian, " Xew Kent; 1 In sending rue this letter through the hands ot Major John Tyler, Mrs. Letitia Semple, the only sur- viving daughter of Mrs. Letitia Tyler, says, " I enclose you a copy of the first letter my father ever wrote to my mother; and I had a book of original sonnets written by him in his youthful days, many of which 3S2 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOESE. were addressed to her ; for lie was fall of music and full of poetry and possessed an exquisite literary taste; but this book has been lost to us. in one of my writ- ing desks stolen duriDg the war. ■• My father and my mother were born in the same year— that of 1790, he being from the 29th March to the 12th Xovember older than she was. They were married on father s twenty-third birthday follow- ing that of his birth, after a courtship and engagement of nearly five years. He met her for the first time at a private party in the neighborhood, while on a visit to ' Greenway, ' the home residence of grandfather Tyler, in Charles City County, adjoining that of New Kent, where grandfather Christian resided at ; Cedar Grove.' He had already taken his collegiate degrees at "William and Marv College when seareelv more than seventeen years old, and was at the time a law student in Richmond, under the special office counsel and in- struction of the celebrated Edmund Randolph, jv. esteemed as the father of the Constitution of the United States, as Mr. Jefferson was of the Declaration of American Independence, and who had been the Attor- ney-General of President "Washington, and the Secre- tary of State of President Jefferson, my grandfathei Tyler being Governor of Virginia, and then residing in Richmond. After their troth was plighted, he h I been twice or thrice elected to the State Legislature before their marriaore was solemnized: and his last visit to her at f Cedar Grove ' was only three w- before the wedding, yet I have heard him repeatedly say that, ' then, for the first time, he ventured to kiss LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 383 her hand on parting, so perfectly reserved and modest had she always been.' u My mother's mother was Mary Brown, of the same family with that of the late Judge John Brown, of Williamsburg, and Professor Dabney Brown, of William and Mary College, the former of whom finally moved to Kentucky, and the latter more recently to California ; and with that of the Hon. James Halybur- ton, late Judge of the United States District Court of Virginia, and of the Hon. John M. Gregory, late Judge of the Henrico Circuit and Governor of Virginia : and as to the late Judge Christian, and the present Judge Christian, of the Peninsular Circuit and of the General Court of Virginia, the first was her son, and the last her cousin, as are also the present doctors William and Edward Warren, formerly of Edenton, North Carolina, whither they moved from New Kent in Virginia, but now of Baltimore." Not long after her marriage, Mrs. Tyler had the misfortune to lose both of her parents, and now having two less to love in this world, she freely gave the share which had been theirs, to her husband and her chil- dren, and to her sisters and her brothers. In truth, at no period of her life does it seem that she existed for herself, but only for those near and dear to her. Although she was noted for the beauty of her per- son and of her features, for the ease and grace of her carriage, for a delicate refinement of taste in dress that excluded with precision every color and ornament not strictly becoming and harmonizing in the general effect ; although possessing an acute nervous organization and 3S4 LADIES OF TIIE WHITE HOUSE. sensitive temperament, combined with an unusually correct judgment ; although any observant stranger of polished education would have been almost uncon- sciously attracted to her among thousands by her ail of quiet courtesy and benignity ; although with these en craving qualities, and the social advantages attaching to her position, she could easily have impressed her power upon what is termed society had she so desired, still she never aspired to wield the sceptre of. fashion, and never sought to attract attention beyond the lim- its of her own family, and the circle of her immediate' friends and relatives. She modestly shrank from all notoriety and evaded the public eye as much as possible. She had not the faintest wish to enjoy the reputation of authoress or wit, or for maintaining an ascendancy in the company of brilliant men and women of the world. She was perfectly content to be seen only as a part of the exist- ence of her beloved husband ; to entertain her neicrh- bors in her own easy, hospitable, and unostentatious way ; to converse with visitors on current topics in- telligently ; to sit gently by her child's cradle, reading, knitting, or sewing ; or else to while away pleasant hours in the endearing companionship of her sisters and her intimate acquaintances. It appears that, though she resided in Richmond during the period that Mr. Tyler was Governor of Virginia, and did the honors of the Executive Dwell- ing of the State with ease and grace and singular dis- cretion, winning the commendation of all at a time when the metropolis of Virginia was unexcelled upon LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 385 the American continent, either in respect to elegant men or accomplished women ; yet that she had rarely visited the city while he was a member of the Legisla- ture, and that during his long term of service as Rep- resentative and Senator in the Congress of the United States — having been three times elected to the House and twice to the Senate, — she suffered herself to be persuaded only once to pass a winter in Washington, and at the end of another session only reluctantly con- sented, at his earnest entreaty, to visit one summer the gay centres and resorts of the North. When either her own health, or that of her hus- band, or that of her children, absolutely required a change of air and scene, as several times happened, she vastly preferred the bracing temperature and invigor- ating atmosphere of the mountains of Virginia and the life-inrDartino; Greenbriar waters to the seats of more fashionable display and empty vanity. She was? under all circumstances, the wife and mother, sister and friend, apparently living in and for those whom she loved, and not for herself. No English lady was ever more skilled and accom- plished in domestic culture and economy than was Mrs. Tyler, and she was never so happy as when in the en- joyment of domestic privacy. At her own home she was a pattern of order, system, and neatness, as well as of hospitality, charity, benevolence, and conscien- tiousness in the discharge of every duty incumbent upon the mistress of a large household, and scrupu- lously attentive to every wish expressed by her hus- 25 386 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. band as to the management of his interests in his al> o sence on public affairs. Nothing escaped her watchful yet kindly eye, either within or without the mansion. She loved all pure and beautiful things, whether in nature or in art. The grounds within the curtilage were tastefully arranged in lawns and gardens, and under her imme- diate inspection were kept carefully adorned with shade trees, and flowering shrubs, and odoriferous plants, and trailing vines, so that in the spring, sum- mer, and fall the airs around were literally loaded with sweets. The kitchen-garden and fruit-orchards were always extensively cultivated. The dairy and laundry were sedulously supervised, and in all directions poultry and fowls of almost every kind most prized for the table, were to be seen in flocks. She preferred that her servant-women should be held to these milder employments, and to spinning and weaving, knitting and sewing, rather than being assigned to the more onerous tasks of the field upon the plantation. Thus, under her superintendence, not only were all the negro field-hands and negro children comfortably provided with clothing of home manufacture and make, as well as ministered to with care and supplied with all necessary medical attendance when sick, but, at the same time, the members of the immediate household had their w 7 ants, in these respects, for the most part bountifully met ; while the rarest and most beautiful toilet fabrics, and counterpanes, and coverlets, such as are not now to be had at any price, were produced by LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 387 her handmaids, assisted by those of the neighborhood inheriting the art. Beyond all question, and without regard to the portion she brought with her after mar- riage, as the gift of her father, which was by no means relatively inconsiderable, she maintained by her active economy the pecuniary independence of her husband under his continued public employments, in an age of public virtue, when the representatives of the people, as well as those of the States, received but slight remune- ration for their services, and when, in all probability, he would have been otherwise compelled to have with- drawn from the public councils, and to have relin- quished the career of ambition in view of his family necessities and requirements. Mrs. Tyler was baptized in infancy in the Protest- ant Episcopal Church, and in early life became a con- sistent communicant. At every stage of her existence she was pervaded by a deep religious sentiment, and the Bible was her constant companion. For her neighborly and charitable nature she was proverbial. Although every one who knew her as a young unmar- ried lady, and nearly all of her contemporaries in more advanced years, are now dead, still her reputation in these respects abides among the living, and is particu- larly referred to and commented upon in every com- munication I have received concerning her, as well as in all of her obituaries that I have read. And one of the most beautiful traits in her lovely and almost faultless character, in the midst of all her mildness, meekness, gen- tleness and amiability, was the perfect self-respect which constantly attended her, beating in unison with her 3SS LADIES OF TEL WHITE EOUSE. true woman's soul, suffering no encroachment upon true propriety and decorum in her presence, and sustaining her dignity as a Virginia matron, which never un- der any circumstances whatever, deserted her — not- even under the most intimate relations, as I shall \ entlv discover in a letter from one of L:: lona Indeed, the letters with which I have been fav<: : by her surviving children, while confirming all of my impressions previously received, and the statements that I have made in regard to her, on the. : e points cially, enable me to detail still more clearly the inner as well as outer life she led. and the.: naj cation : - touching and interesting that I unhesitatingly submit them to the reader in preference to any thing else, so far as they apply. Mrs. Eobert Tyler, the wife of her oldest son. thus wrote concerning her, at her own home, in the bosom of her own family in the old city of Wil- iiamsburg, Virginia, under the first impressions she re- ceived after she was married in Pennsylvania, to her ra- ters at the North. il Witj.tamsetieg. Yq5^ia. October, 1SS9. s * ::; •• The bridal festivities ao profanely tended to us in Charles City, that moai hospil tble of counties, ended last week. My honey-moon has waned, and I have at la?: settled down at home. I: I can ever learn to think any place a home where raj own dear father and sisters are not, I certainly can do so here, for a new father and mother have opened their arms and their hearts to me; new and loveiy nstera cluster around me ; and I am welcomed and appr : LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 389 of by any number of uncle?, aunts, and cousins. The introduction to all of them was an awful ordeal to go through, you may be sure, but it is happily over, and I have now settled myself down absolutely as one of ;he family. I know you want me to tell you of each separate member, and of the house, and all my sur- roundings. "You know how entirely charming Mr. Tylers father is, for you saw him at my wedding in Bristol, but you cannot imagine the tenderness and kindness with which he received me, his 'new daughter,' as he called 'me. Mr. Tyler's mother is very much as I im- agined her, from his description. She must have been very beautiful in her youth, for she is still beautiful now in her declining years and wretched health. Her skin is as smooth and soft as a baby's ; she has sweet loving black eyes, and her features are delicately moulded ; besides this, her feet and hands are perfect ; and she is gentle and graceful in her movements, with a most peculiar air of native refinement about every thing she says and does. She is the most entirely unself- ish person you can imagine. I do not believe she ever thinks of herself. Her whole thought and affections are wrapped up in her husband and children ; and I thank God I am numbered with those dear children, and can partake with them in the blessing of her love. May He give me grace to be ever a kind and loving daughter to her. * St******** * M The house is very large an*l very airy and pleas- ant, fronting on a large lawn and surrounded by a 390 LADIES OF THE WIIITE HOUSE. most beautiful garden. The parlor is comfortably fur- nished, aud Las that homelike and occupied look which is so nice. The prettiest thing in it, to my taste, thouo-h very old-fashioned, is the paper upon the walls, which depicts in half life-size pictures the adventures of Telemachus on Calypso's enchanted Isle. Telema- chus is very handsome, Calypso and her nymphs as graceful as possible ; and old Mentor as disagreeable and stern as all Mentors usually are. I find something new in the paper every day, and love to study it. The dining-room is opposite the parlor, across a broad pas- sage, kept too bright and shiny almost to step upon, and is also a very spacious room, with a great deal of old family silver adorning the sideboard, and some good pictures upon the walls. There are two other rooms behind the parlor and the dining-room, one of which is used as a sitting and reading room, for it is a large double house, flanked by offices in the yard in which the library is kept, and one of which is used for law and business purposes by Mr. Tyler's father and himself. " The room in the main dwelling furthest removed and most retired is ' the chamber,' as the bedroom of the mistress of the house is always called in Virginia. This last, to say nothing of others, or of the kitch- en, store-rooms and pantries, is a most quiet and com- fortable retreat, with an air of repose and sanctity about it ; at least I feel it so, and often seek refuge here from the company, and beaux, and laughing and talk- ing of the other parts *)f the house; for here mother, with a smile of welcome on her sweet, calm face, is al- LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 391 ways found seated on her large arm-chair with a small stand by her side, which holds her Bible and her pray- er-book — the only books she ever reads now — with her knitting usually in her hands, always ready to sympa- thize with me in any little home-sickness which may disturb me, and to ask me questions about all you dear ones in Bristol, because she knows I want to talk about you. Notwithstanding her very delicate health, moth- er attends to and regulates all the household affairs, and all so quietly that you can't tell when she does it. All the clothes for the children, and for the servants, are cut out under her immediate eye, and all the sew- ing is personally superintended by her. All the cake, jellies, custards, and we indulge largely in them, ema- nate from her, yet you see no confusion, hear no bustle, but only meet the agreeable result. * * * * * * AH Mr. Tyler's sisters are lovely and sweet. Sister Mary — Mrs. Jones, who is the oldest of all — I have already introduced you to in my letter from Charles City, where she resides, at ' Woodburn,' one of the plantations or ' farms' as they are called here, of her husband, and where she so happily eutertained us recently. Next comes Letitia, Mrs. Semple, mar- ried last February. She is very handsome and full of life and spirits. She has a place called ' Cedar Hill,' some distance from Williamsburg, in New Kent county, but is now here on a visit. Then come3 Elizabeth, a very great belle here, though she is not yet seventeen. She is remarkably sweet and pretty, with beautiful eyes and complexion, and her hair curled down her neck. John, who is next to Mr. Tyler in age, and 392 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. who was at my wedding, and therefore needs no de- scription, is not here now, but he and his wife will spend next winter with his father, as he still attends the law department and higher scientific courses of William and Mary' college, as it is termed in accord- ance with the original charter of King William and Queen Mary, although it is now and has been for many years a university. " I have not seen her yet, but hear that she is very beautiful. The two younger children, Alice and Taze- well, make up the fainrly. * The children, with all the rest of the family, seem very, very fond of me, but you must not suppose that all this affection and kindness makes me vain. It is very comforting and sweet, but I know they all love me from no merit of my own, but from the devotion the whole family feel for Mr. Tyler, who is idolized by his parents, and profoundly loved and respected by his brothers and sisters."* * The ancient Tylers of Virginia, of whom bnt few are left in the State, were from a younger branch of the Tylers of Shropshire, in Wa^es, bordering on England. John and Henry, brothers, came to Virginia in ;he beginning of the settlement, and finally took np their abode in the '*MiJdle Plantations'' between Jamestown and Yorktown, in 1636. President Tyler was the fifth John from the first of the name. The older line in Shropshire, now divided, still maintain their status there, represented by the present Sir Charles, son of the late Sir William. The Tylers of the Xorth have never been able to trace any connection or common origin with those of Virginia, either in tbeir correspondence with the first Governor Tyler, or with President Tyler ; but of recent years many have poured into Eastern Virginia, and some have now pur- chased estates that formerly belonged to the ancient Virginia family. History in the future will doubtless, under these circumstances, become confused on the subject. LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 393 Mrs. Letitia Seraple, in a letter addressed to her brother at Washington, and which he has kindly placed at my disposal, thus writes : — "Nob. 3T & 39 Mount Vernon Place, ) " Baltimobe, March 27th, 1869. ) * * * * * * " It is a sad truth, but I know of no one now alive who remembers my mother in her youth. As late as 1861, there were several who had known her from infancy, but now they are all gone. We have not an uncle, or an aunt, of all 0'ir once numerous family, left on earth. The early portion of her life must be gleaned from the little in- cidents we, her children, may remember to have been recited concerning her, by those now dead. Apart from ourselves, there are those who may recall some- thing of her married life,Tbut these have been scattered by the events of the war far and wide asunder. Her character was so unobtrusive, and her personal deport- ment was so little influenced by a desire to shine be- fore the public eye, that those alone best knew her who were intimately associated with the family as near relatives, or as private friends. Our older and two younger sisters are dead ; our elder brother, and one younger, the one driven by the relentless fates to Ala- bama, and the other to California, and you, the sport of a similar fatality, together with myself, may recol- lect many little things sacred to filial devotion. The beautiful affection ever manifested toward her by every member of the family — by her uncles and her aunts, by her sisters and her brothers, her nephews and her 394 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. nieces, and by her cousins, male and female — by all. without exception — we know of, and can speak to tlie fact. It was with each one of them the unadulterated affection of the heart for piety, purity, and goodness. There was nothing else to attract it, for their mere worldly circumstances were, in every direction, fully equal to her own, and in many instances superior in affluence to those she enjoyed. Nothing could have exceeded the devotional regard of her sister Anna, the owner of the paternal estate of Cedar Grove, and who in addition to her own inheritance, had derived a large fortune by marriage and the earl} 7 death of her hus- band, Mr. Savage. And I have often heard aunt Eliza- beth Douglas, her oldest sister, speak of her obedient disposition and truthfulness as a child, and of her al- most surpassing beauty, grace, elegance, and refinement in riper years. We ourselves know how exemplary a wife and mother she was. One of the earliest me- mories I have of her is, that she taught me my letters out of the family Bible. Over and often can I recall her with a book in her lap, reading and reflecting, while her fingers were knitting or stitching for some of us ; or w T hile watching over us until a late hour of the night, in the absence of our father upon his public duties. " Yon know that these days of our childhood were days of struggle with our father, under heavy security obligations, and she had but one idea apart from con- jugal piety and affection, and that was to save him from every care and every expense in her power. M His pecuniary independence was preserved, and LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 395 much of his success was secured, through her economy, her diligence, her providence, and her admirable self sacrificing demeanor. I have frequently heard oui father say that he rarely failed to consult her judgment in the midst of difficulties and troubles, and that she invariably led him to the best conclusion, and that he had never known her to speak unkindly of any one. She was permitted to see him fill the highest office in the gift of his country, but before he was suffered to enter into his rest from political life, she had gone to that rest remaining for the people of God. She died, as you know, on the 10th September, 1842, in the Executive Mansion at Washington, where her third daughter, our sister Elizabeth Waller, had been short- ly before married, and where two of her grandchildren now living, — the oldest daughter of our brother Rob- ert, named Letitia, and the youngest son of our sister Mary, named Robert, were born. " You remember her fondness for flowers. Her fa- vorite flower was the monthly damask rose, and that brought in to her on the morning of the day of her death, was found clasped in her hand when the spirit was fled. From the time that she had been first stricken by paralysis, her health had been frail, but none of us anticipated an immediate, or even an early renewal of the attack, and far less a sudden dissolu- tion of her system ; and I had closed my last visit to her only a few days before, and had gone to ' Cedar Grove ' to inform aunt Anne of the condition in which I had left her, as if the sad Fates had carried me there to be ready to receive her remains, returning to the . v 7 O 396 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. place of their birth to repose, in their separation from- her husband, by the side of those of her father and her mother, as when first quickened into life ; but our sister Elizabeth Waller, and our aunt Elizabeth Doug- las, were with her, and witnessed her last breath, and they told me this particularly sweet circumstance of her favorite rose still clinging to her hand in death. " Aunt Betsy, moreover, said that ' all appearance of age vanished from her features, and she looked as she did at nineteen, and that death itself had left on her only the beautiful.' " I will endeavor to procure from her portrait by Cook, taken while father was Governor of Virginia, a correct picture for the engraving desired by Mrs. Hollo way for the proposed sketch of her life ; and I herewith send you the elegiac Ijnes heretofore men- tioned, published in the Baltimore Sun, and attributed to Mr. Eppes Sargent at the time. This may possibly be a mistake, but you doubtless recollect that, about that period, Mr. Sargent, Mr. Ley, Mr. Thomas, Mr. Irving, and many others well known among the literary celeb- rities of the country, were not veiy unfrequent visit- ors to our drawing-rooms at the White House, and that Mr. Irving and Mr. Ley were appointed ministers abroad, while other official favors were distributed among them in acknowledgment of their acquirements and merits, although, if my memory serves me right, Mr. Sargent was not so favored." Major John Tyler, in the course of his letters ad . dressed to me from Washington City, during the month LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 397 of April, in relation to this subject, speaking of the first written communication from his father to his mother already given to the reader, and in respect to the associated memories it recalls to him, says: " This letter brings up vividly before me reminis- cences of the personal deportment of my mother and father toward each other, so delicate and guarded as never to depart from mutual respect, or from self-re- spect, and yet with affection always in the ascendant. One of the most admirable exhibitions of demeanor as a portraiture of character at all points, — as evidencing the sense of propriety and the sense of self-respect, combined wdth true womanly modesty, while manifest- ing womanly love, — deep, abiding, exalted, admiring love — was that shown on certain occasions on the part of my mother, and which I shall never forget ; which, the nioie I have seen of individual human life, and the usual ways of the world, the more I have been charmed by its contemplation ; until now it has be- come a memory I would not exchange for all the wealth and powers of the empires of earth. It dis- played itself under the following circumstances, and to be properly understood and appreciated, the preface, though somewhat tedious perhaps, must be given. "You have already seen from my last communica- tion and its enclosures, that my father at the age of twenty-three, wdien married to my mother, had been three times elected to the State Legislature. It mio;ht have been also stated that he had already acquired an extensive legal practice, and that he was rising rapidly upon the heels of his father in the general es- 398 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. teem of the public for both ability and eloquence, Two years after his marriage with my mother, having been returned five times to the State Legislature, rare- ly losing the vote of an elector in his county, he was elevated, at the age of twenty-five, by the popular vote, to the Congress of the United States, over Mr. Andrew Stevenson, late speaker of the House and Minister to England, the favored candidate of the Newspaper Press and of the Richmond Junto, although both stood in the contest on the same political platform. He was returned three times to the House of Representa- tives in the Congress, overcoming at length all opposi- tion in the Richmond district. After this, resigning from the House of Representatives, he was immediately made one of the Counsellors of the State of Virginia, and from that position he was elected Governor and chief magistrate over the very able and justly cele- brated William B. Giles. " He was unanimously reelected to the same high dignity. Then he was preferred to the Senate of the United States over the brilliant and distinguished John Randolph, of Roanoke, at the height of his fame; and after a service of six years, he was reelected to that body, then composed of statesmen and the intellectual giants of the land. At the end of three more years, resigning his seat in the Senate, he was made a candi- date for the vice-presidency in 1836, on the ticket with Judge Hugh Lawson White, of Tennessee, as President ; and again in 1840, on the ticket with General William Henry Harrison. " Then, through the death of Harrison, within a LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 399 month after the Inauguration, he became the tenth President of the United States. " Thus, you will perceive, that the public duties of my father called him away from his family to no in- considerable extent ; and during the period of my mother's life allowed him but slight domestic rest, in- terfering, at the same time, greatly with his practice at the bar, and impairing his pecuniary fortunes ; and therefore, without heavy drafts upon his private credit that it would not have been prudent to encounter, and thst my mothers judgment would not sanction, it was not always within his power, merely in view of the small pittance then paid to legislators and senators, to have his family with him at the seat of Government. It was a fortunate circumstance that my mother always preferred remaining at her own quiet home, and was never so happy as when by her own fireside with her children, her relatives, and her old friends and neigh- bors, conscious that she saved him from every avoida- ble expense, for he was only enabled to have her with him abroad without pecuniary inconvenience, upon occasional visits to the mountains and the Virginia Springs in the summer season strictly for health ; dur- ing one session of the State Legislature, that when the Richmond theatre was burnt and a mere accident de- terred him from going to witness the performance with her, to have perished in the names perhaps, as many others did on that fatal occasion ; during the period of time that he was Governor of Virginia : and during only one, or at most, two sessions of the Congress, prior to his Presidential term. It was in vain, that in view 400 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. of her retiring modesty and repugnance to the public eye, and under the influence of his domestic attach- ments and the pressure of his pecuniary affairs, he pro- tested against further public service, and resigned from the House of Representatives, and afterward from the Senate, entreating peace and quietude with his wife and children. He was instantly seized upon again by the public, at each and every attempt he made to re* tire from political life, and forced back into the service of the country. " These were the circumstances, my dear madam, that tested my mother's nature and qualities, and made her virtues shine with heavenly light. " It not only fell to her province to superintend t|ie domestic economy at home, and to train and educate her children, but to bestow no little attention upon the affairs of the plantation, and to take care of and provide for the negro families both in sickness and health. As gentle and delicate in person and in health as she always was, she never shrank for a moment from these complicated, exacting, and often harassing duties and responsibilities. Her native benevolence and active generosity, combined with her moral and intellectual training, and high sense of conjugal fidelity, impelled and sustained her unflinchingly, in the reso- lute purpose of sustaining her husband in the field of his arduous labors for the benefit of the people, so that he should not sink through poverty, nor be compelled to abdicate the glorious career before him by the stern requirements of his domestic affairs. Without hesita- tion she repressed every inclination, if indeed she ever LADIES OF TIIE WHITE HOUSE. 401 entertained the lurking desire, to play the role of the 'fine lady,' as the English and Americans have it. or that of ' nne grande daine,' as the French have it, however fitted she may have been by birth, by educa- tion, by association, by the elements of her character and by the grace and beauty of her person, to shine in the parlor and in the saloon. It was, doubtless, in view of these onerous duties devolving ivpon my mother, and the immense self-abnegation they requir- ed, that caused my father so earnestly to desire retire- ment from public life, and so often to resign high poli- tical station. But the fates had allotted to each an appropriate sphere, the one the ' helpmeet ' of the other, and the special portraiture of my mother, which all that I have said is intended amply to bring out and cause to be properly appreciated, is associated with her manner and bearing at the reception of my father on his visits home during the sessions of the Congress, or upon his return home after their close. " For the most of this period of her life I was but a child, it is true, usually close to her knee or playing about with my little sisters, but so much the closer were my observations and the clearer is my memory, while additional experience and knowledge have taught me the full value of the exquisite delineation of char- acter contained in the reminiscence. A thousand times I have recalled it as it occurred and was repeat- edly presented before me. I can see my mother now, as she would be seated either sewing, or knitting, or reading, when the voice of my father would be heard either approaching or entering the house, instantly a 26 402 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. blush would mantle her cheek, a beam of joy would irradiate her countenance, the book or work would fall from her hands, and she would bound forward to meet him. But, my dear madam, pause if you please ; such quick, impelling affection, such untutored manifestation of joy might be regarded by an ardent and devoted husband of nice perceptions and refined taste as not altogether consistent with a proper self-respect, as some- what deficient in delicacy, as in a measure unbecom- ing the modest and chaste matron — the wife of a grave, noble, and lofty Virginia Senator. There should be more reserve, there should be a waiting to be sought for by him. Immediately following the first impulsive movement, these reflections would flash through her mind. I can see it all now understanding^, as I saw it then observantly — and before the door of the sit- ting-room was reached, like the queenly infant rising in its charms, described by the poet, she would recover herself, repress her transport, quietly resume her seat ■ — radiant with beauty — and await his approach. Then as he entered the room, she would rise and receive him tenderly yet decorously. It was a scene upon which I can fancy that angels always smiled delighted. Often, indeed, do I remember to have climbed up in her lap about the time of which I speak, and to have called her ' beautiful.' " In kindly informing me as to the manner in which Mrs. Tyler trained the minds of her children, and in relation to the general ethical system of educa- tion prevailing in the family — in every instance al- ways most due to the mother — Major Tyler, to whom LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 40$ I am under profound obligations for Lis prompt civili- ties and kind assistance, with singular interest and force, thus writes : " It was never the habit of our family, during my mother's life, to make c a to-do ' about any thing per- sonal to ourselves ; and noisy, fussy, aud arrogant as- sumption and pretension were always regarded by us as alike indecorous, opposed to good taste, and violative of self-respect. The introduction of such deportment in our midst is altogether at variance with our ideas of decency and propriety. We have generally consid- ered it best to leave it to others to speak to our merits while living, and to assign to their proper place the virtuous memories of our dead. Neither my mother nor my father would ever permit in the family the slightest expression of ancestral pride, though sedulous in impressing upon the minds of all around them the more elevated sentiments and noble actions of their progenitor, seeking, as it were, to sanctify through the aid and quality of veneration the recollection of things worthy of imitation. We w r ere especially taught — apart from the common training of every-day life, and the usual lessons of diligence and industry — that honor and fame attach themselves to no particular condition in life ; that mere exterior circumstances cannot confer either real character or true respectability ; that a palace cannot add to, nor a log-cabin detract from, sub- stantial worth ; that the man is actually within and not without ; that a christianized heart — in respect not less to the individual than to the universal — a culti- vated mind ; the refinement of the sentiments, the feel- 404 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. ings and the affections, the conscientious performance of duty as defined in the commandments of God and Christ and explained by St. Paul, and reverence for the laws, together with gentle manners and delicate courtesies, were incomparably preferable to wealth, official dignities, and worldly displays ; that wealth it- self, though a great blessing when directed to proper, laudable, and gracious ends, should never be viewed in any stroDger light than as a secondary object, and never be pursued as a primary consideration. These were, in fact, the intelligent ideas pervading the civili- zation under which my mother was born and reared, and which, doubtless, led her to solid good sense and beneficence. "This civilization constituted, I verily believe, the purest form of social and political Christianity evei yet vouchsafed on earth to the children of men. I find in history no example of such perfection in the Cau- casian family, and it was to be found nowhere else so complete as within the limits of the ' Ancient Com- monwealth, and Dominion of Virginia.' It was the result of the throes and agonies of the human race through countless centuries, and it was established by our forefathers on the wisdom of all the experiences of the known past. To say nothing of the great men, the great declaration of rights, the great superstruc- ture of freedom, and the great union of states under an incomparable constitution of fundamental law, to be preserved inviolate as the guardian of justice, lib- erty, and happiness that it had given to the continent and the world ; but to look narrowly to itself alone, LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 405 within its own limits, and to judge it by its fruits there solely, it had originated a populous and extensive com- munity covering many thousand square miles, so grounded in charity and urbanity, benevolence and generosity, that even their negro slaves had been re- deemed from African cannibalism to a hio-h condition of moral and even intellectual enlightenment, and were better cared for and more contented than any other manual laboring class of the same numbers upon the globe. In which open-house hospitality was uni- versal among the inhabitants, and lochs and keys were scarcely deemed necessary to the protection and safe- keeping of property of any kind. Wherein no malign or inimical feeling existed toward others, either of rivalling interests or of envious jealousy, so that, in the happy consciousness that all w T ere prosperous in the land, they could not be impressed with the belief that ill-will, hatred, and wrong were being entertained toward themselves until too late to guard against atrocity and calamity. And among whom, in the almost total absence of pauperism and crime, tenable jails and poor asylums were rarely to be seen ; and such other indications of wretchedness and depravity as abound elsewhere, masked by sentimental pretension, were not to be discovered. In the midst of all that we have suffered in our persons and in our estates since the advent of the sword and that rule over pub- lic affairs which has swept lawlessly through the private concerns and domestic relations of the people in the states once sovereign and independent, there is nothing I regret so much as the subversion of a society so 406 LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE. attractive, and a civilization so admirable, to make room for a system in its place that has engendered, is engen dering, and can only engender, vice and immorality and breed rottenness and corruption, until the very clay itself, as of old in the days of Moses and the Prophets, ' shall vomit out its foul and bestial possessors. The profound historians and statesmen of Virginia knew well, my dear madam, that the materialistic sys- tem of life, now denominated 'Progress, 1 had been tried and tested, time and again, before the advent of the Christian Dispensation, under various philosophi- cal theories, both religious and political, at Babylon and Nineveh, in Medea and Persia, at Sidon and Tyre, in Egypt and Palestine, at Alexandria, in Lydia, at Carthage, in Greece, and again at Rome, invariably ending: in the same result — in the lust of lucre as the instrument of depravity, and in the worship of Mam- mon as the divinity of sin ; dethroning the virtues and humanities, God and the Redeemer, and at length ter- minating in the general lunacy of the mind and heart, leading to strife, contention, decimating wars, the de- struction of the peaceful arts, pestilence and famine, and the final obliteration of the wicked and putrid people. " All the education and learning I possess thai I esteem valuable and worthy to be treasured, I may say I derived from my mother. It was through her teach- ings that I became finally impressed with the vast ethical superiority of the internal over the external relations attendant upon our existence, and with the preference that should be accorded to the ' ab intra ad LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 40? extra' or spiritualistic system of philosophy, over the "ah extra ad intra; or materialistic system ; the first being that of Christ, and the last that of ' the world, the flesh, and the devil.' It was through her teachings that I was led finally to perceive that we are the 'Temple;' that the realm of 'Heaven' and that of ' Hell ' is that of our own existence here, now and hereafter ; that the ' angels,' or the virtuous qualities and affections of the mind and heart, guide and direct us to ' Heaven,' or happiness, and that the ' devils,' or our passions, desires, and appetites, indulged and unre- strained, carry us down to ' Hell,' or to miseiy and woe ; that the first are the ' ministers ' of the ' Savior,' and the last the ' servants ' of ' Satan ; ' that the ' Sav- ior within us' can only be conceived by a 'Holy Spirit,' and when ' incarnated,' must be ' born ' from the gestation of 'immaculate' affections, 'uncontam- inated' desires, and unadulterated passions; or, in other words, from the chastened and purified, or the ' virgin ' soul. And it was through her teachings that the great mysteries of the Bible and of our faith as disciples of God and Christ— of the < Conception,' the ' Birth,' the ' Disputation in the Temple,' the ' Agony in the Garden,' the 'Bearing of the Cross,' the 'Death by Crucifixion,' the 'Burial,' the 'Resurrection,' the 'Ascension,' and the ' Judgment,'— following that of i Jacob's Ladder,' together with the wonderful ' Ser- mon,' and the lessons of the 'Parables,' following the 'Ten Commandments,'— were in some measure ulti- mately revealed to my comprehension, as containing the essence of all wisdom, of all truth, and of all vir- 40S LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. tue, applicable to the harmony of our nature, and to the peace and contentment of our being." ~ « & jSf * * In transmitting to me the letter of his sister that I have already transcribed, containing the elegiac lines taken from the Baltimore Sun and attributed to Ma*. Sargent, and in sending me at the same time the obit- uary notices that appeared on the occasion of his mother's death, in the Washington journals, Major Tyler, in particular reference to the allusions made in both to her charitable and benign nature and hospita- ble disposition, thus again writes, first with explana- tory remarks, and then narrating illustrative incidents it were unpardonable not to insert. "It gives me pleasure, my dear madam, to trans- mit to you a letter from my only living sister, con- taining elegiac lines on my mother, taken from the Baltimore Sun, and attributed to the late Mr. Epes Sargent, and I also send you the obituaries that ap- peared at the time of her death in the Washington journals. Many similar notices might be gathered from the public press of the country, written on the occasion, without the slightest instrumentality of any member of the family, but I have no means of reach- ing them now by the day fixed upon for your publica- tion. I had nearly all of them once, carefully arranged, but the same merciless hand robbed me of them that despoiled me of her grave. A word of explanation is necessary in regard to the lines and paragraphs sent, after which I will narrate such little incidents as are called up at the moment by those given by my sister, LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 409 trivial, it is time, "but they may serve you, perhaps, in your proposed: task. "The National Intelligencer, the Daily Globe, and the Madisonian were the only newspapers pub- lished in Washington when my mother died. After many inquiries and much diligent search, I found the volumes of each, in different directions, wade apart, for the year 1842. The first was the central organ of the ' Whig party,' then headed by Henry Clay, playing a northern game for the succession, bitterly in opposition to my father and his administration. The second was the central organ of the ' Democratic party,' then still headed by Mr. Van Buren, notwithstanding his strong consolidation and abolition tendencies, and consequent- ly almost as hostile to my father as the first. The third was the central organ of the small remnant of the old ' Jeffersonian State-Rights Republican party' remaining in the country, still struggling to maintain the integrity of our constitutional system of govern- ment, with all its guarantees to the people and the States, consisting of those who, in 1824, had sustained Mr. Crawford for the Presidency, refusing to go into either of the new organizations that then were formed under Jackson and Adams, and who, in 1836, had again put in the field, against the proclamation and Force Bill of General Jackson, a separate and inde- pendent ticket — that of White and Tyler. These last alone, under the circumstances, gave support to the administration making a last effort to restore the gov- ernment to its ancient landmarks without war, and hence the Madisonian came to be regarded as its 410 LADIES OP THE WHITE HOUSE. organ, though my father then, as at all times previous- ly, held all mere partisan journals, as well as all mere partisan politicians, in proper sovereign contempt, preferring the pursuit of that which was just, truthful, and honest in itself, and consequently right to be done, to all meretricious fame and popular applause. " I presume the reason why the Madisonian was the last of the three papers to publish an obituary, apart from the very commendable motive of the editor to gather up all the facts necessary to a somewhat elaborate notice, was the result of a delicate policy to ascertain first what was said by Mr. Gales, of the In- telligencer, and by Mr. Blair, of the Globe. a Party feeling ran high and was furiously denun- ciatory, not scrupling, especially on the part of Mr. Clay's scavengers, to resort to vilification, slander, and detraction personally, in regard to any member of the family where it could affect the President, so that many honest people even felt it prudent to abstain from commendation where they positively felt it to be su- premely due. In fact, the situation and the course of our enemies were never paralleled in the history of the country, except in regard to President Johnson, who has therefore had my profoundest sympathy ; and in their ultimate results upon the country, through the unwise charges of policy afterward introduced, the two will not prove very unlike in the permanent ad- justment of vexed questions threatening the public peace, though my father, battling almost siugle-handed, as Mr. Johnson also did, left his antagonists lying dead beyond the hope of recovery, and handed down the LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 411 succession to a new line of Presidents who, by a course of similar firmness and sagacity, might have preserved liberty and saved the Republic. " And now, my dear madam; permit me to recur to the little incidents associated partly with my mothers life, and partly with her death, that have been recalled by Mrs. Semple's letter, and. by some of the allusions in the lines of Mr. Sargent and in the obituaries, for I, too, remember many things that the heart may cher- ish, though the biographer might prefer to pass them by unnoticed. Such incidents, however, constitute the sum of life, and should not be forgotten after death. a It was my task to take her out, in some light car- riage, upon her rounds of charity among the sick and *• afflicted of her neighborhood. She would, on these occasions, first recall the names and localities of all in- dividuals and families that she had learned to be in want, in distress, or ill, and requiring a nursing hand. Then she would store in baskets, tea, sugar, coffee, light bread, and delicate provisions and preserves, together with proper medicines ; and with me as her coachman and guide, she would start on her mission. "I was young, quite young, it is true, but was an active fellow ; could handle a light bird-gun smartly, and knew the neighborhood as well as a country school- boy at the south generally does — that is to say, within a range of five miles from the school-house, there was scarcely a chestnut tree, or chinquapin bush, or wild grape bearing vine, with which I was not familiar. She invariably entered the house or hut in person, how- ever humble and poor the inmates and whatever the 412 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOESE. form of sickness, and her words and manner were al ways as comforting as lier food and medicines and bev- erages were healing and nourishing. I never knew her in conversation, under any circumstances, not even in the presence of the clergyman of her parish, to al hide to these habitual benevolences. In fact, even in the family it was more frequently supposed she had merely 'gone an airing' than otherwise. " There is a trifle that rests, I believe, alone in my memory, and the seal upon which I have never broken ; but which, trifling as it may be regarded, well illus- trates the conscientious impulsion of her nature to acts of kindness. On one occasion, during my father's ab- sence on public duty, about twilight, on a very cold evening, a man with a pack on his back walked up to the front door of our residence and knocked. I answered his call. He wished to be sheltered for the night and asked for something to eat. My mother directed me at once to take him to the dining-room, where there was a good fire, and have food set before him. She never turned away any such applicants. He ate heartily and sat quietly by the fire, now and then ask- ing some question in broken English, while my little sisters and myself were conning over our lessons for the next day. When the hour for retiring came, he was conducted by our waiting man, then styled the dining-room servant, to a bed-room and assigned a comfortable bed. The next morning, without waiting for breakfast, he had started on his journey. My good mother seemed for a moment hurt that he should have gone without his breakfast, but quickly directed me to LADIES OF THE WHITE H0ESE. 413 send the servant-man to her. She then took from her purse the last piece of money she had left in the house, a silver half-dollar, and dispatched the servant on horse- back after the man, with orders to catch up with him and give it to him to 'help him on his way,' and it was done. " The next incident I desire to relate is to me partic- ularlv sad. and although I have wearied you already too much, I fear, I feel that I should mention it. a One Sunday morning, the next after my mothers death, having seen her spirit depart the evening be- fore, afflicted with grief, exhausted, and feverish, I walked out alone in the yard around the south front of the President's Mansion, to breathe the fresh air and to commune with my own heart. It was quite early, and I was somewhat surprised to find that which I had never before observed in the gronnds, as they were regarded as entirely private to the President's family, save on stated occasions : numbers of poor women were scattered about, or grouped together, or walking sor- rowfully alone as I was doing, all with mournful coun- tenances, conversing scarcely at all where two or more were in company, and for some time I failed to realize the purport of the scene. In fact, I did not divine the meaning of it until a mere accident brought the dis- closure. I had not thought of attributing it to my mother's death, for I was not aware that such special concern was felt for her by the poorer classes of the city. But in passing by one of the groups listlessly standing together, some remark was made respecting her death that caught my ear, and I heard the almost 414 LADIES 01 THE WHITE HOUSE. sobbing reply, ' Yes, she is dead, and the poor have lost their friend ! ' I felt that their words conld not have been intended for me. They were, indeed, in a part of the grounds from which they could hardly have seen ine come from the President's Mansion, and I was too little known to be personally recognized by any of them. The consciousness was forced upon me that the reputation of my mother for deeds of charity had gone before her, and that the good she had done lived after her. My eyes again melted in tears, as I passed in review a multitude of sweet and tender memories, and T returned to my chamber and the silence of sol- itude so grateful to the sensitive and weeping soul." Full and graphic as these delineations are of the traits that marked the life of Mrs. Tyler, I cannot the less refrain from addinsr a communication received from a gentleman in Virginia, just as my pen had reached this point. It is entirely confirmatory of all mv preconceived ideas and impressions concerning the sweet subject of my sketch, and rounds off so com- pletely the narratives I have given, that I should fail in justice to withhold it from the reader. If it had been purposely directed to the points in her character espe- cially dwelt upon by her children, it could scarcely have been more precise, but far otherwise ; he was sim- ply requested by Mrs. Letitia Semple to whom it was addressed, as having known her mother long and well, to state his knowledge and impressions of her; and he did so without other information, expressing " an opin- ion not recently formed, but thought of for years." It should be stated perhaps, that the writer, Mr. John LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 415 Tyler Seawell, is one of the oldest nephews and mem- bers of the family of President Tyler now alive, and that, for the benefit of his education and training both as a boy and man, he lived much with his uncle, who finally introduced him to the Bar, since when he has achieved quite an enviable reputation for himself, hav- ing occupied before, during, and since the war, promin- ent positions in the State, and is, of course, well known to a laro-e circle. " Gloucestee Cocet IIouse, April 25th, 18G9. * * * " I have a warm recollection of your mother for many years before her death, and I think I may say I knew her thoroughly. I bad the fairest chance to know her well, and I had the best reasons to know her natural and uniform kindness to all who came within her sphere. She was, however, so retiring in her nature that it was almost impossible to point out more than her general character. She was a per- son of most excellent mind and eminently practical in all her views. She was a person of the kindest im- pulses, and her charity of thought overlooked much in others that was reprehensible. To my shortcomings she was always lenient, and she saved me many a scold from your father and others where I richly deserved it. She was one of the most domestic persons I ever saw. The ' eclat ' of your father's reputation would, of course, often force her into -view, and, when occasion required it, no person could have sustained the position wuth more ease and dignity than she did. But it was a position she never courted. When she was mistress 416 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. of the Governor s Mansion, at Eichmond, she did the honors of the house as none but a high-toned, sensible southern lady could. ZSTor did she shrink at all when she felt it her duty as your father's wife to assume her proper place. Yet show and parade and worldly van- ities had no charm for her. Often and over have I heard your father, when he was in the Senate of the United States, try to induce her to spend a long por- tion of her time in Washington ; but her reply gener- ally was, that ' she would feel better satisfied at home frith her children,' and so she was. She was a truly pious person, though, as I have said, she was not a per- son of great professions in any respect, but in this she rras known by her acts. She felt always the keenest interest in your fathers reputation and success, and was as proud of him as she could be. Many a time when she knew he was to make a public speech, either on the Hustings or at the Bar, she has charged me, if I was expected to be present, to bring her a truthful ac- count of it and to tell her how it was received. To sum up my knowledge and opinion of her character in a word — a knowledge and opinion not recently formed but thousrht of for vears — she was a woman well fitted by nature and education and association to shine in any circle, but her heart turned to her home, her fam- ily, and a few friends. They were all the world to her. With opportunities that come to but few, to take her share of worldly distinctions and employments, she preferred the quiet of a gentle and Christian life in the bosom of her family. I fear the piebald taste of the present age, in this LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 417 country will not relish the character of a woman such as your mother was, but to the few capable of appre- ciating properly female character and worth, she will rank as a model that many now living might copy with advantage." * * * * * $ ' $ vl- •» These letters, taken with the obituaries mentioned, and the lines of Mr. Sargent, together with other communications descriptive of the daily social routine in the " White House" at this epoch, which remain to be submitted and cannot fail to interest, leave but lit- tle necessary to fill out and perfect the portraiture of one of the loveliest characters in history. Upon the accession of her husband to the presi- dential office in the beginning of April, 1841, Mrs. Tyler proceeded with him to the Executive Mansion of the nation, at Washington, but with many sighs and tears at parting with her own home, and without the thought of personal triumphs in the world of fash- ion and display. She resigned herself to the change simply to be with her loved ones, and to receive the tender care and attention of those in whom she liter- ally " lived and had her being." Her health had be- come greatly impaired from a severe attack of illness during the year 1839, and her condition remained a3 has been described by her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Rob- ert Tyler, then to have been in the month of October. Nevertheless, in all the private apartments of the President's Mansion, the same mode3 of life were main- tained to those to which she had ever been accustomed. Her sisters and brothers and other relatives, as well 27 418 LADIES OF THE WIIITE HOUSE. as her children, still hovered around her, as they had always done, with increased aud increasing affection ag they discovered her frame becoming somewhat more feeble. She passed her time chiefly in their society, receiving but few visitors and returning no visits. Her health, indeed, required that she should delegate to some one of her married daughters the semi-official duties of the "Lady of the White House." For the greater part of the time, her own married daughters, Mrs. Jones * and Mrs. Semple, w r ere com- pelled by their domestic duties, in the line of the pri- vate affairs and personal interests of their husbands, to remain at their respective residences in Virginia, but frequently coming to Washington, for brief periods, it is true, through solicitude for her health and to bestow their affection upon her ; and as regards her two re- maining daughters, Elizabeth, afterward Mrs. Waller, was just grown up to womanhood, and was not yet married ; and Alice, afterward Mrs. Henry M. Deni- son,f was still but a child. However, it fortunately *Mary, the first child and oldest daughter of Mrs. Letitia Tyler, in her features bore a marked but refined and delicate likeness to her father, and strikingly blended in her character the admirable attributes of both father and mother. She was a lady of the most exalted worth and lovely mould. She married, at an early age, Mr. Henry Lhhtf'oot Jones, of Charles City County, Virginia, and died after her mother, leaving an in- fant daughter that soon followed her spirit, and three sons, two of whom only survive, Henry and Robert, who fought in the ranks in Lee's army, both being mentioned in orders, and the latter of whom, born in tho "White House," was promoted for a feat of daring gallantry and three wounds received at Gettysburg, to a first-lieutenancy. t Alice, fourth and last daughter of Mrs. Letitia Tyler, resembled her mother in features more than any other child. She married, years after LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 419 so happened that her oldest son and his wife had not permanently located themselves in life since their re- cent marriage, and it was considered best they should continue in the family. Sometimes, on the temporary visits of Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Semple, all her married daughters would appear together in the Reception- rooms ; but under the circumstances, the constant task of representing her mother, in respect to the honors of the establishment, was delegated, with the consent of the President, to Mrs. Robert Tyler,* a lady of ad- mirable culture and address, to whom she was, as well a3 the rest of the family, devotedly attached as to her own daughter. One of the few occasions on which she assented to appear personally in the public Reception- rooms, before a large and distinguished assemblage of men and women associated with the world of fashion and that of politics and diplomacy, was that of the her mother's death, the Rev. Henry M. Denison, of Wyoming, Pennsyl- vania, a clergyman of marked ability, eloquence, and conscientiousness, of the Protestant Episcopal Church, and Rector, at the time, of old Bruton Parish Church, at Williamsburg, Virginia. She died while he was assistant to the Bishop of Kentucky, at Louisville, and he died while Rector at Charleston, South Carolina, a victim to his high sense of duty to his congregation during the prevalence of the yellow fever in that city before the war. They left an infant daughter named Elizabeth, who has. been reared and educated by her aunt, Mrs. Letilia Tyler Semple. * Mrs. Robert Tyler, wife of the second child aud oldest son of Mrs. Letitia Tyler, is the daughter of Thomas Abthorpe Cooper, the distin- tinguished tragedian, an English gentleman, ward and nephew of Good- win the political economist, pupil of Holcroft, and friend and relative ot Shelley the poet. Her mother was the daughter of Major Fairlee, of 2sV,v York, an officer of the Revolutionary War of Independence, and of the Governor Yates and Vanness family. Her eldest daughter, named after her grandmother, Letitia Christian, was born in the White House. 420 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. marriage of her daughter Elizabeth, and is thus por- trayed by Mrs. Robert Tyler shortly afterward, in a letter addressed to her relatives near Philadelphia. •• Washington. February, 1S~2. * * * « Lizzie * has had quite a grand wedding, although the intention was that it should be quiet and private. This, under the circumstances, though, was found impossible. The guests consisted of Mrs. Madison, the members of the cabinet, with their wives and daughters, the foreign ministers near the government, and some few personal friends, outside of the family and their relatives. "Lizzie looked surpassingly lovely in her wedding dress and long blonde-lace veil ; her face literally cov- ered with blushes and dimples. She behaved remark- ably well, too ; any quantity of compliments were paid * Elizabeth, third daughter of Mrs. Letitia Tyler, was married to Mr. William Waller, of Williamsburg, Virginia, in the east roo'.n of th:- I dent's Mansion, at Washington, ou the thirty-first day of January. in the 19th year of her age. In character she greatly resembled her mother, and showed much of her early beauty and grace. Her oldest son, named William, resigned from the West Point military school and married during the recent war between the States, the youngest stater : the wife of President Davis, in the Executive Mansion of the Confederate States, at Eichmond. And her second son, John, though a mere lad, was killed daring the war. "fighting for his mother's grave." to use his own words. Another son, Kobert, and a daughter, Mary, had been born to her before she died. Her children, through their great-grandfather, the first secretary of the American Colonial Congress, and their great-,- mother, his wife, the sister of the Earl of Traquaire, and whose grandson is the present titular Earl, bears in their veins, probably, the nearest liv- ing blood to that of Queen Mary Stuart, of Scotland, whose name her daughter bears. LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 4:21 to her. I heard one of her bridesmaids express to Mr Webster her surprise at Lizzie consenting to give np her belleship, with all the delights of Washington so- ciety, and the advantages of her position, and retire to a quiet Virginia home. ' Ah,' said he, 'Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And love is heaven, and heaven is love.' " Our dear mother was down-stairs on this occasion for the first time, in so Large a circle, since she has been in Washington. She gained by comparison with all the fine ladies around her. I felt proud of her, in her perfectly faultless, yet unostentatious dress, her face shaded by the soft fine lace of her cap, receiving in her sweet, gentle, self-possessed manner, all the important people who were led up and presented to her. She was far more attractive to me in her appearance and bearing than any other lady in the room, and I believe such was the general impression. Somebody says, ' the highest order of manner is that which combines digni- ty with simplicity ;' and this just describes mother's manner, the charm of which, after all, proceeds from her entire forgetfulness of self, and the wish to make those around her happy."" * * * * Major Tyler enables me to glean farther facts and incidents as to the modes and inmates of the Executive Mansion during this period, before which all confusion of idea vanishes. He says : — u I was for more than three years ' Major Dorno' of the establishment, and to the last private secretary, 422 LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. but never to this day Lave received from the Govern- ment, directlv or indirectly, one dollar for mv services in either capacity. My mothers health was entirely too delicate to permit her to charge herself with the semi-official social requirements of the mansion, and my married sisters being unavoidably absent for the most of the time, the task devolved upon Mrs. Robert Tyler to represent my mother on stated occasions. She continued in the role of honors, as they are* termed, until after my mothers death, and my brother made his arrangements to practise law in Philadelphia, by which time it also happened that Mr. Semple's affairs became differently accommodated, and he proceeded to sea as a Purser in the United States Navy, when my sister Letitia * became at liberty to take up her abode in Washington. Accordingly, both the President and myself now addressed to her letters, inviting her to as- sume the position and duties of ' Lady of the White House," 1 which she consented to do and so acted v May, 1844. " During my mother's life, and up to this date, al- ways contemning pretension and worldly vanity, we lived m the 'White House' as we lived at home, save that we were obliged to have rather more company. * Letitia, the second and only surviving daughter and fourth child of Mrs. Let'.tia Tyler, married in early life the nephew and adopted B Judge Semple, of Williamsburg, Virginia, who reared an to manhood, his own father, a brother of the Judge, as well as h : s mother dying iii his infancy, leaving him by will a handsome fortoi -:-. The Sc • pies are of the fondly of the Earls Dnndonahl, of S ::'.::.". and of the same branch with that of the celebrated B'air, appointed by King James the first commissioner of Virginia, and who was afterward Preslc .-. : : William and ilarv College. LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 423 less select as to true worth than was altogether agree- able. In the course of the ' fashionable season,' and while the sessions of the Congress lasted, we gave two dinner parties each week, very much after the plain, substantial Virginia manner and style, to the first of which, usually confined to gentlemen from different parts of the country visiting Washington, and who had shown respectful attention to the President and family, twenty guests were always invited ; and to the second, usually embracing both ladies and gentlemen from among the dignitaries of the different departments of the Federal and State governments, and the diplomatic corps of foreign governments, forty persons were in vited, making in either case quite a full table. " Our drawing rooms, as at home, were open every evening informally until 10 o'clock — never later — when the family rose and retired, and. doors were closed. Before my mother's death, we gave occasion- ally during the winter months, by special invitations, in the general reception-rooms, a private ball, attended with dancing, but terminating at 11 o'clock. In addi- tion to these private entertainments and strictly social converse, we introduced at this period— for the first time it had been done — music on the grounds of the south front of the Mansion, on the Saturday evenings of each week during the mild weather of the spring, summer, and fall, for the recreation of the public at large ; and to a similar end a public levee was held once a month, in addition to the general receptions on the first day of January and the Fourth of July, of each year. "Nothing whatever preceded by cards of invita 4.2-4 LADIES OF THE WHITS HOUSE. tiou was permitted to be considered in any other light than as a private affair of the Presidential family, with which the world outside and the public press had nothing whatever to do, just precisely as if we had been in our own house in Williamsburg. Even in re- spect to the public receptions mentioned, the Madison- ian was never suffered to indulge in a description either of the persons or characters present, in an indi- vidualizing manner, after modern usages, and no en- eouragement was given to any one so to do. I send you a specimen of the only sort of notice, even in the latter case, that was regarded as at all admissible while my mother lived. Any thing more particular would have shocked her delicate sense of propriety, and been absolutely offensive to the President. The Madisonian, Washington, Monday, March 17, 1842. "THE LAST LEVEE OF THE SEASON. "The levee held by the President on Tuesday eve- ning last, was a brilliant affair, and gave satisfactory evidence of the esteem in which that high functionary is held in social circles. "Among the visitors of peculiar note were the distinguished authors of the ' Sketch-Book,' and of the 'Pickwick Papers,' in addition to whom almost all the Ministers of Foreign Powers to our Government were in attendance in full court dress. "The rooms were rilled to overflowing; with the talent and beauty of the metropolis, whilst Senators and Members of Congress, without distinction of party, served to give interest and to add animation to the LADIES OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 425 scene. It seems to us that these levees, as at present conducted, are peculiarly adapted to the genius of our Republican institutions, inasmuch as all who please may attend without infringement of etiquette. We almost regret their termination for the season, but look forward with pleasure to the period when they will be renewed." " I may say that this notice, as restrained as it is, bears internal evidence showing that it would not have been made but for the necessity of informing the pub- lic in some indirect manner of the termination of the public receptions for a season. I find none other. In another column, and in quite a different connection, the Madisonian says : ' The Richmond Whig admits, and we heartily concur in the sentiment, that Mr. Tyler, in his appointment of Washington Irving, the author of the ' Sketch Book,' as Minister to Spain, has paid a just tribute to the most distinguished ornament of American letters.' Scarcely any notice appears of the marriage of my sister Elizabeth in the preceding Jan- uary, that being regarded as a purely family matter. " Allow me one word more, in conclusion, pertain- ing to the subject. Such was the bitterness of party feeling toward us, that no appropriation was made by Congress either for furnishing the house, or for the oflice of private secretary, or for the incidental ex- penses of fuel, lights, door-keepers, messengers,