CHAPTER XIV

VISIT TO THE FAR SOUTH AND RETURN TO WASHINGTON

In the autumn of the same year I decided to make a long anticipated

visit to Mrs. John Still Winthrop in Tallahassee, whose marriage in

Gramercy Park I had attended so many years ago and which I have already

described. My two younger children accompanied me, but my oldest

daughter I left behind under her father's protecting care at the Misses

Vernon's boarding school in Frederick. This period seemed especially

suitable for such a long absence, as the whole time and attention of Mr.

Gouverneur was engrossed in editing for publication a posthumous work of

James Monroe, which was subsequently published by the Lippincotts under

the title, "The People the Sovereigns." We sailed from New York and

stopped _en route_ in Savannah to enable me to see my old friend and

schoolmate, Mrs. William Neyle Habersham. Sherman in his "March to the

Sea" had passed through Georgia, carrying with him destruction and

devastation, and the suffering which this and other campaigns of the war

had brought into the homes of these Southern people it would be

difficult to describe. The whole South seemed to be shrouded in

mourning, as nearly everyone I met had given up to the "Lost Cause" a

husband or a son, and in some cases both. Two gallant sons of the

Habershams, mere boys, had died upon the same battlefield, and when I

saw Mr. Habersham for the first time after the war he was so overcome

with grief that he was obliged to leave the room. Talented to an unusual

degree and possessing much fortitude, his wife fought bravely for the

sake of her dear ones still spared her, but every now and then her

sorrow asserted itself anew and seemed more than her bleeding soul could

bear. She was especially gifted with her pen, and about ten years after

the war, while her heart was still wrung with grief, she wrote the

following pathetic lines:--

Up above, the Pines make sweet music; sad, plaintive, for

must there not be a tone of "infinite sadness" in all the

places of Earth's finite gladness? From a spray of jessamine

I hear the chirp of a little bird--a young beginner; it

tries over and over again "its one plain passage of few

notes"--the prelude to the full-voice anthem which summer

will harmonize. Ah! what shades and sunlight! what coloring!

Green in the grass and trees, blue in the violets and sky,

gray in the moss, yellow in the jessamines, falling around

in a perfect Danæan shower of burnished gold! My truant

fancy sees all this--and more! A dear hand that held mine, a

"pure hand," a boy's hand, that ere many summers had spread

out their gorgeous pageantry had drawn the sword for that

dear summer-land of the jessamine and pine--had drawn the

sword and dropped it; dropped it from the earnest, vigorous

clasp of glorious young manhood to lie still and calm,

life's duty nobly done; ah, a short young life but ... and

then the other young soldier! for is not my sorrow a twin

sorrow? Can they be dissevered? In death they were not

divided. My eyes grow dim. Wipe away the mist, poor mother!

to see the dear faces of sons and daughters gracing the

board. Let the blue of the violets breathe to thee rather of

endless skies and an eternal Heaven, where earth's finite

sadness is beautified into infinite gladness.

We finally reached Tallahassee, where we found the most cordial welcome

awaiting us. Mrs. Winthrop lived in the very heart of the city but our

surroundings were much more beautiful than I can describe, for the

orange trees and hyacinths and jessamine in full bloom and other wealth

of semi-tropical vegetation were suggestive of an earthly Paradise.

Since we last met my hostess had become a widow, but fortunately she and

her only son, who was then just emerging into manhood, had not felt the

personal vicissitudes of the struggle, as they had taken refuge in the

mountains of North Carolina. Before the war the Winthrops had owned

hundreds of slaves and most of them, in a state of freedom, were still

living in quarters only a short distance from the house and were working

on her plantations just as though the war had not made them free. But

both among those who suffered from the war and those who escaped its

ravages the unfriendly feeling entertained at this time against their

Northern brethren was naturally intense. I remember that one Sunday

morning a young son of Mrs. Custis, who with his mother was then an

inmate of the Winthrop household, asked his mother, who had just

returned from the early service of the Episcopal Church, whether "the

'Yankees' went up to the same communion table with the Southern people."

During my Tallahassee life I made the acquaintance of Madame Achillé

Murat, who lived in an old mansion outside of the city limits. She was

Miss Catharine A. Willis of Virginia, and a great-grandniece of General

Washington. Upon her marriage to Achillé Murat he took her abroad, where

she was received with much distinction on account of her Washington

blood. Then, too, her marriage into such an illustrious French family

was an open sesame to the most exclusive circles of society. She was an

elderly woman when I met her, but her conversation abounded with the

most interesting reminiscences of her life in France. She died in the

summer of 1867. Achillé Murat was the son of Joachim Murat, the great

Marshal of Napoleon, whose sister Caroline he married and became King of

Naples. Many years later his two sons came to this country. One of them

settled in Bordentown in New Jersey, and Achillé Murat, after his

marriage to his Virginia bride, became a resident of Florida. Madame

Murat told me of some of the visits she made to France when the voyage

was long and tedious. She had many articles of _vertu_ around her, and I

especially recall a superb marble bust by Canova of her mother-in-law,

Queen Caroline. I expressed surprise at the extreme attractiveness of

the late Queen, as I had always understood that the Princess Pauline,

Napoleon's other sister, was the family beauty. Madame Murat, however,

told me I was mistaken and that her royal mother-in-law was, in that

respect, quite the equal of her sister.

During my acquaintance with Madame Murat, Napoleon III. was on the

throne of France, and I learned from our many friendly chats that her

relations with her distinguished kinspeople were of the most cordial

character; and I am informed that for many years the Emperor gave her an

annuity. Hanging in her drawing-room, whose contents were replete with

historic association, were two handsome portraits of the Emperor and

Empress of France, which she called to my attention as recent gifts from

her royal relatives. That prince of hosts, Gouverneur Kemble, once told

me an amusing incident _àpropos_ of Achillé Murat's resourcefulness

under peculiar difficulties. On one occasion quite a number of foreign

guests appeared at the Frenchman's door and, although Florida is a land

"flowing with milk and honey," he was sorely perplexed to know what

would be "toothsome and succulent" to serve for their repast. Suddenly

an idea flashed upon him. He owned a large flock of sheep and, nothing

daunted, gave immediate orders to have the tips of their ears cut off.

These were served in due form, and his guests departed in total

ignorance of what they had eaten but fully convinced that America

produced the choicest of viands.

Upon one of her numerous visits to France, Madame Murat was accompanied

to the Louvre by Mr. Francis Porteus Corbin, a Virginian whose

contemporaries proudly asserted was an adornment to any court. While

they were engaged in viewing the works of art, Madame Murat was joined

by Jerome Bonaparte, to whom she formally presented Mr. Corbin. When the

opportunity arose Bonaparte inquired of his kinswoman who "the elegant

gentleman" was. The ready response was: "Mr. Corbin, of Virginia."

"Well," was the ejaculation, "I had no idea there was so much elegance

in America."

I think these pages will show that all through life I have had a decided

fancy for older men and women. I can hardly account for this taste

except by the fact that my predilections have always been of a decidedly

historical character. As another instance, I especially enjoyed my

meeting in the far South with Judge Thomas Randall, who made his home in

Tallahassee, but who was originally from Annapolis. He did not allow

advanced years to interfere with his social tastes, but frequently

accompanied us to parties, where his vivacity rendered him one of the

most acceptable of guests. Still another elderly gentleman with whom I

had the pleasure of becoming acquainted during this Southern sojourn was

Francis Wayles Eppes. He was the son of U.S. Senator John Wayles Eppes,

whose wife was Maria Jefferson, elder daughter of Thomas Jefferson. He

left Virginia many years prior to my acquaintance with him and settled

with several members of the Randolph family in Western Florida when it

was almost a wilderness.

I left with keen regret this picturesque land of flowers and stately

oaks, but duty called me home, as my husband and little daughter were

growing impatient over our long absence. It would seem that the

observance of timetables differed in those days according to localities

and other circumstances. I was informed that the train I should take

from Tallahassee would leave _about_ such and such a time; but upon my

inquiring in Savannah as to whether the ship upon which I proposed to

embark for Baltimore would leave on time, I was explicitly told by its

captain that if I were a minute late I should not be one of its

passengers.

After my return to Maryland, the home of our adoption, we abandoned the

idea of country life, sold our residence and took up our abode in

Frederick. My children were now reaching an age when education became an

important matter and I took advantage of the Frederick Female Seminary,

an institution that has since become a college, as an excellent place to

which to send my eldest daughter. It was during this period of

transition that it was my good fortune to meet for the first time the

wife of the Hon. Henry Gassaway Davis of West Virginia, who was a native

of Frederick and a daughter of Gideon Bantz. Her two older daughters,

Hallie, the widow of U.S. Senator Stephen B. Elkins, and Kate, who

subsequently became the wife of Robert M. G. Brown of the U.S. Navy,

were boarding pupils at the same school; and Mrs. Davis frequently

visited them while there. My daughters formed an intimate friendship

with Mrs. Brown, whom at a later day we often welcomed as a guest in our

Washington home. She has since passed "over the river," having survived

her mother for only a few months, and her memory is hallowed in my

family circle. Mrs. Elkins, the promising young girl of so many years

ago, is widely known in Washington and elsewhere for her womanly tact,

intelligence and fine presence. Grace, another of Mrs. Davis' daughters,

is now Mrs. Arthur Lee of Washington, but was born after my earlier

acquaintance with her mother in Frederick. Loved and admired, she

resides in Washington surrounded by an exclusive coterie, and devotes

much of her time and means to works of philanthropy.

The prominent authoress, Mrs. Elizabeth F. Ellet, was repeatedly our

guest while we were living in Frederick. A volume of her poems had

appeared as early as 1835, and she subsequently published quite a number

of books which were highly regarded. When she first came to visit us,

her "Women of the American Revolution" had just appeared and her journey

to Maryland was for the purpose of collecting data for a new work which

later was published under the title of "The Court Circles of the

Republic." Besides being a gifted writer, Mrs. Ellet had considerable

histrionic ability, and I have now before me an old newspaper clipping

containing an account of an entertainment given by me in her honor when

she recited from "Pickwick Papers", "Widow Bedott" and "The Lost Heir."

Another party at which music and recitations were a prominent feature

was given to Mrs. Ellet in Frederick by Mrs. Charles E. Trail, a gifted

woman who thoroughly appreciated intellectual accomplishments wherever

found.

My first acquaintance with the Hon. Joseph Holt, who at the time was

Judge Advocate General of the Army, began in Frederick in 1869. He was a

Kentuckian by birth and, after serving for a time as Postmaster General

under President Buchanan, succeeded, in 1860, John B. Floyd of Virginia

as Secretary of War. He made frequent visits to Frederick where he was

always the guest of the Rev. Dr. and Mrs. George Diehl. He was a typical

Kentuckian, over six feet tall, and in my opinion no one could have

known him well without being impressed by his intellectual ability.

After we returned to Washington to live, in 1873, Judge Holt was a

constant visitor at our home and I frequently attended handsome

entertainments given in his residence on Capitol Hill. Although I have

been in society more or less all of my life, I can say without hesitancy

that he more perfectly understood and practiced the art of

entertaining--it certainly _is_ an art, and possessed by but few--than

any other person I have ever known. His second wife, who was Miss

Margaret Anderson Wickliffe of Kentucky, had died in 1860 and, as he had

no children, he was living entirely alone.

From my earliest acquaintance with Judge Holt I was deeply impressed by

the cloud of sadness that seemed to envelop him, and I never learned

until I had known him many years and really called him my friend that he

was laboring under a deep sense of wrong and injustice. Without entering

into exhaustive details, the main facts are substantially these: In 1865

Mr. Holt was Judge Advocate General of the Army and as such was the

prosecuting officer before the Military Commission convened by order of

President Johnson for the trial of Mrs. Mary E. Surratt and others for

complicity in the assassination of Lincoln. The findings and sentence of

the Commission were accompanied by a recommendation signed by a majority

of its members in which they "respectfully pray the President, in

consideration of the sex and age of the said Mary E. Surratt, if he can,

upon all the facts in the case, find it consistent with his sense of

duty to the country, to commute the sentence of death, which the Court

have been constrained to pronounce, to imprisonment in the penitentiary

for life." This recommendation for executive clemency remained unknown

to the public until it was incidentally referred to by the Hon. Edwards

Pierrepont, counsel for the government in the trial of Mrs. Surratt's

son in 1867. This was followed in subsequent years, and after Andrew

Johnson had ceased to be President, by a controversy in which

reflections were made upon the personal and official integrity of Judge

Holt by the charge that he had never presented the recommendation for

clemency to the President. The matter finally sifted itself down to a

question of personal veracity between the ex-President and Judge Holt,

in which the latter affirmed that "he drew the President's attention

specially to the recommendation in favor of Mrs. Surratt, which he read

and freely commented on"; and was contradicted by the ex-President in

the assertion that "in acting upon her case no recommendation for a

commutation of her punishment was mentioned or submitted to me."

The enemies of Holt accordingly held him indirectly responsible for Mrs.

Surratt's execution, and against such a charge he naturally rebelled

until the day of his death. The most cruel feature of the whole affair,

however, and the one which probably did more than anything else to

sadden and becloud the remaining days of Judge Holt's life, was the

personal disloyalty of an eminent citizen of his own State, who had been

his intimate friend from youth. I refer to James Speed, Andrew Johnson's

Attorney General. In 1883, after most of the prominent actors in the

scene were dead and the animosities caused by the controversy were

largely allayed--at a time, too, when Holt realized that he was growing

old and recognized more keenly than ever the importance of leaving

behind a final refutation of the calumnies that had been heaped upon

him--he appealed to Speed, who, he believed he had reason to assume was

in possession of the exact facts of the case; but all that could be

wrung from him were evasive words to the effect that he saw the petition

for clemency in the President's office, without intimating whether it

was before or after Mrs. Surratt's execution, and that he did not "feel

at liberty to speak of what was said at cabinet meetings." An exchange

of letters followed between the two in which Speed excused himself for

six months on the pleas of bereavement and press of business, and that

he had lost his glasses, when he finally replied:--"After very mature

and deliberate consideration, I have come to the conclusion that I

cannot say more than I have said." It is no wonder, then, that Holt,

driven to desperation by such treatment, wrote to Speed:--"Your

forbearance towards Andrew Johnson, of whose dishonorable conduct you

have been so well advised, is a great mystery to me. With the stench of

his baseness in your nostrils you have been all tenderness for him,

while for me ... you have been as implacable as fate."

While spending the summer of 1888 in Princeton, Massachusetts, I read in

the _North American Review_ for July of the same year the correspondence

relating to the Surratt question between Holt and Speed in 1883. Knowing

Judge Holt as I did, having firm faith in his version of the

controversy, believing him to be a victim of gross injustice and

realizing withal how keenly through all these years he had felt the

sting of misrepresentation, I wrote him a lengthy letter. It was not

long before I received his reply, and I copy it here, as I believe it

casts an additional sidelight upon a subject which caused this brilliant

and high-minded gentleman bitter suffering from which he never wholly

recovered. I add several more letters written to me by him which are

beautiful in expression but pathetic in character.

WASHINGTON, August 26th, 1888.

Mrs. M. Gouverneur,

My dear Madam:

Your kind letter of the 14th instant was quite a surprise,

but a very agreeable one I assure you. My reply has been

thus long delayed from an impression that it would probably

more certainly reach your hands if addressed to you at

Frederick.

I have read and re-read your letter with increasing

gratification and thankfulness. Truly am I grateful for the

friendly spirit that prompted you to make so thorough an

examination of the Speed correspondence as your _résumé_ of

it discloses. That _résumé_ is in every way admirable. It

has the clearness and logical force of a first-class

lawyer's brief. Indeed, I was on the point of asserting that

you have a good lawyer's head on your shoulders, but prefer

saying that you have a head which obeying the inspirations

of your heart enables you to discern and _appreciate_ the

truth and extricate it, as well, from the entanglements of

chicanery and fraud. Be assured, my dear Madam, that I shall

treasure up your letter fondly, at once as a consolation and

as a powerful support of the endeavors which I have been

making for years to rescue my name from the obloquy of an

accusation, than which nothing falser or fouler ever fell

from the lips of men or devils.

It was a severe shock for my faith in human nature when

General Speed--with whom I had maintained relations of

cordial friendship for some fifty years--suddenly allowed

himself to become a compliant coadjutor of Andrew Johnson in

his diabolical plot to destroy me. The _rôle_ of suppressing

the truth, which he voluntarily assumed for himself and in

which--without explanation or defense--he persisted down to

his grave, amounted fully to this and to nothing less. Yet

during all of that time he _knew_ me to be innocent, as well

as I myself knew and know it, and this he never denied.

Alas, Alas! what a masquerade is human life, and amid its

heady currents how rarely do we pause to think of the

possibilities that lurk under the disguise of its spotless

reputations!

I should be rejoiced to hear that the Summer has strewed

flowers and only flowers on the paths of your "outing," and

that you will be able to return to Washington glad of heart

and reinvigorated for the social duties in which you find

and bestow so much pleasure. For my own isolated and infirm

life home was thought to be the best place, and hence I have

remained here happily finding under my own roof a

contentment that has left me without envy of those whose

more fortunate feet have sought the seashore and the

mountain slopes. You yourself, however, acted wisely and

well in going away, since the world is still pressing to

_your_ lips the sparkling cups, which for my own are now but

a dim, receding memory.

I congratulate you on Miss Rose's approaching marriage which

you have been so good as to announce, and sincerely hope

that all the bright visions which the coming event must be

awakening will have an abounding fulfilment. The invitation

with which you have honored me is accepted with thanks, and

I shall attend the ceremony with the higher gratification,

realizing as I shall how closely your own happiness is bound

up with that of your daughter.[3]

Faithfully and gratefully your friend,

J. HOLT.

* * * * *

WASHINGTON, Nov. 3d, 1888.

My dear Mrs. Gouverneur:

I am in receipt of your very welcome letter of the 1st

instant and hasten to send the "Index" as requested. Hope it

may be of service in illustrating and supporting your

application. I shall preserve the Admiral's [Rear Admiral

Francis A. Roe, U.S.N.] emphatic words as a cherished

testimonial. The language of Mrs. Stanard is also very

grateful to me. Her favorable opinion is the more prized and

precious because she has known me so long and so well.

And now, my dear good friend, how can I sufficiently thank

you for your generous interest in this trouble of

mine--which has been a thorn in my life for so many

years--and for your surpassingly kind offices which have

been so effectively exercised in connection with it? Be

assured that while my poor words cannot adequately express

it, my heart will always throb with gratitude for the tokens

of good will with which you have so honored and gladdened

me.

I feel much complimented by so early a receipt of the

invitation to Miss Rose's wedding, and I shall have great

joy in being present.

* * * * *

Faithfully yours,

J. HOLT.

* * * * *

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

Dear Mrs. Gouverneur:

I regret to be obliged to acknowledge the receipt of your

welcome letter by the hand of another, owing to the

condition of my eyes. For many weeks their inflammation has

prevented me from reading or writing, and I fear that this

condition will continue for a good while to come. So soon as

I am able to do so I will either write or have the pleasure

of calling on you. In the meanwhile believe me most grateful

for your letter which, however, has been but imperfectly

read. The darkened chambers of my life never had more need

than at present of the sunshine which your sympathizing

letters have always brought me.

Very sincerely yours,

J. HOLT.

* * * * *

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

Dear Mrs. Gouverneur:

Your last two letters have been received and I thank you

heartily for them. As tokens of your continued friendly

remembrance they are precious to me. I am much obliged for

the privilege of reading the letter of Mrs. Vance [Mrs.

Zebulon B. Vance], which is herewith returned. It is another

of the many indications I have had of the subtle and wide

spread circulation given to the Johnson-Speed calumny to

which you refer. It seems to me that the poison is beyond

the reach of any human antidote, and that I must look to God

alone for shelter from it. Your generous and effective good

offices in this matter, so deeply affecting my reputation

and happiness, have filled my heart with an enduring

gratitude.

Your unflagging solicitudes, too, for my poor waning life

have much added to that debt of gratitude, great as it was

and is. Let the good Lord be praised for ever and ever that

spirits such as yours have been born into the world.

I am obliged to address you in this brief and unsatisfactory

manner by the hand of another. After two years and a half of

continued treatment I have as yet received no relief

whatever, nor do the eminent physicians who have treated me

afford me any encouragement for the future. While the world

feasts, it is evident that _my_ lot is and must be _ashes_

for _bread_.

Hoping that you are drinking yourself freely from the

fountain of happiness you open for others, I remain

Very sincerely your friend,

J. HOLT.

* * * * *

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

My dear good friend:

I regret much to be obliged to communicate with you by the

hand of another, but my poor life seems to be fixed by fate

on the down grade, and at present there is no encouragement

to believe that the future has anything better in store for

me.

I send you a number of the North American Review containing

the correspondence to which you refer between General Speed

and myself. In it there is also a detached printed letter of

Colonel Brown which is important. And I must ask that both

this letter and the number of the Review be carefully

preserved and after their perusal by your friend be returned

to me, as I have no other copies and wish to preserve these.

I am sorry that the sad circumstances of my condition

prevent me from thanking you in person for your continued

interest in my reputation which has been so basely assailed,

but I trust as triumphantly vindicated.

I thank you sincerely for what you have said of Mrs. Kearny.

It would be a great gratification to me to have an interview

with her on the long, long ago, but this is a pleasure which

I now have no encouragement to promise myself.

Believe me most grateful for the repeated calls and

inquiries as to my health which you have been so good as to

make. Such calls are precious fountains of consolation that

will not go dry.

Very sincerely your friend,

J. HOLT.

It has been asserted upon high authority that after the conviction and

sentence of Mrs. Surratt her daughter Anna, as well as Catholic priests

and prominent men in Washington, attempted to see the President in order

to intercede for executive clemency in her behalf, but were denied

admission by Preston King, Collector of the Port of New York and then a

guest at the White House, and by U.S. Senator James Lane of Kansas. It

has also been said that Mrs. Stephen A. Douglas succeeded in reaching

the President by pushing herself past the guards, but her attempts in

behalf of the condemned woman were fruitless.

I knew Preston King very well and his political career interested me

deeply. He was from St. Lawrence County, New York, and in my girlhood I

often heard it asserted that the mantle of Silas Wright had fallen upon

him. I saw much of him in 1849 when I was visiting the Scotts in

Washington, and was particularly impressed by his exceptionally

sensitive nature. General Scott once told me that at one period of his

military career he was ordered to quell a disturbance between Canadians

and Americans near Ogdensburg, the home of Mr. King, and that the latter

was so seriously affected by the scenes he witnessed at that time that

it was long before he recovered his normal condition of mind. During

President Johnson's administration Mr. King, while Collector of the Port

of New York, boarded a Jersey City ferry boat one morning, attached

weights to his person and jumped into the river. When the news of his

death reached me I was not surprised as I had seen evidences of his

nervous temperament which might well result in acts indicative of an

unbalanced mind. He was a man of big heart and exceptional ability, and

in his death the State of New York lost one of her most gifted and

distinguished sons.

The Frederick County agricultural fairs, as far back as my memory of

that quaint Maryland town goes, have always been a feature of special

interest not only to the farmers of that productive region but also from

a social point of view. In bygone days some of the most distinguished

men of the nation made addresses at these "cattle shows," as they were

called by the country folk. I recall the visit of President Grant on one

of these occasions when he was the guest of Mrs. Margaret Goldsborough.

He was accompanied by General Sherman and made a brief address. The

evening of the day these distinguished guests arrived Mrs. Goldsborough

gave a dinner in their honor, which Mr. Gouverneur and I attended. The

entertainment was served in the style then prevalent among old Maryland

families in that vicinity, the _pièces de resistance_ being chicken,

fried to perfection, at one end of the table together with an old ham on

the opposite end. To these were added "side trimmings," enough to almost

bury the table under their weight. President Grant was then filling his

first term as Chief Executive of the nation and, although Mr. Gouverneur

had known him in Mexico, it was my first glimpse of the distinguished

man. As a whole we were a merry party, but Grant was a reticent guest.

General Sherman, however, as usual made up for all deficiencies in this

line, and as he sat next to me I found him to be a highly agreeable

conversationalist. This dinner party proved a great social success and

at its conclusion a number of prominent citizens called to pay their

respects to the guests of honor.

The next year Horace Greeley was the orator of the day at the Frederick

fair, and it fell to our lot to entertain him. He wrote the following

letter to my husband:--

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

Dear Sir:

I expect to be duly on hand to fulfil my engagement to speak

at your County Fair and to stop with you, if that shall be

agreeable to those who have invited me. Will you please see

Mr. C. H. Keefer who invites me and say to him that I am

subject to his order and, with his consent, I shall gladly

accept your invitation.

Yours,

HORACE GREELEY.

S. L. Gouverneur, Esq.,

Frederick, Maryland.

As Mr. Greeley about this time was appearing upon the political horizon

as a prospective presidential candidate, much interest was naturally

centered in his visit. His appearance was decidedly interesting. He was

of the blond type, past middle life and in dress anything but _à la

mode_. I am no student of physiognomy, but if the question had been

asked I should have said that his most prominent trait of character was

benevolence. He wore during this memorable visit the characteristic

white hat, miniature imitations of which during his presidential

candidacy became a campaign badge. I am the fortunate possessor of two

of these souvenirs. They are made of white metal and are attached to

brown ribbons, the color of the latter standing for B. Gratz Brown, the

candidate for Vice-President upon the Greeley ticket.

This visit was the pleasing forerunner of a sincere friendship between

my husband and Horace Greeley. In our intimate association of a few days

we recognized as never before his conscientious purpose and intellectual

power, and Mr. Gouverneur was so deeply impressed by his remarkable

ability and sterling character that later in the same year he started a

newspaper in Frederick, which he called _The Maryland Herald_, with a

view of advocating his nomination for the Presidency. My husband had

never before been especially interested in politics, but he now entered

the political arena with all the enthusiasm of his intense nature, and,

at a mass meeting in Frederick, was chosen a delegate to the National

Liberal Republican Convention in Cincinnati, which resulted in the

nomination of Greeley and Brown. Although this party was largely

composed of Republicans who had become dissatisfied with the Grant

administration, it will be remembered that its candidates were

subsequently endorsed by the Democratic party at its convention in

Baltimore, and that the fusion of such hitherto discordant political

elements added exceptional interest to the subsequent campaign. The

venerable Thomas Jefferson Randolph, grandson of the author of the

Declaration of Independence, although he had reached the advanced age of

eighty years, was chosen as the temporary chairman of the Baltimore

Convention. The proceedings of the Cincinnati delegates were replete

with interest and the enthusiasm was intense. During the uproarious

demonstration in the convention hall, immediately following Greeley's

nomination, Mr. Gouverneur's friend, John Cochrane of New York, of whom

I have spoken elsewhere, in the excitement of the moment gave expression

to his delight in an Indian war dance, and other usual scenes of boyish

hilarity prevailed.

My husband's paper had been the first of the Maryland press, and long

before the Convention, to place the name of Greeley at the head of its

columns, but others followed, and for a time the movement, both in that

State and elsewhere, appeared to gain strength and to assume formidable

proportions. Subsequent events, however, proved that it would have been

better if the newborn babe had been strangled at its birth, as it was

destined to enjoy but a brief and precarious existence. Although the

movement commanded the support of the united Democracy and enlisted the

active sympathies of able men from the Republican ranks--such as Carl

Schurz, Whitelaw Reid, Charles A. Dana, Charles Francis Adams, Lyman

Trumbull, David Davis, Andrew G. Curtin and many more--the voice of the

people pronounced for Grant, and in the latter part of the same month

that witnessed his defeat, poor Greeley died of a broken heart!

Greeley's defeat was a severe blow to Mr. Gouverneur. As the member from

Maryland of the national committee of the Liberal Republican Party, he

had engaged in the contest with his characteristic ardor, and his

strenuous but unsuccessful efforts had made inroads upon his health that

he could but ill afford. Under the circumstances, a change of scene and

employment seemed highly expedient, and we accordingly decided to break

up our attractive home in Frederick and return to Washington, where so

much of Mr. Gouverneur's life had been spent and where I, too, had so

many pleasant associations. It was in the summer of 1873 that this plan

was consummated, and we began our second Washington life in a house

which we bought on Corcoran Street, near Fourteenth Street. It was one

of a row of dwellings built as an investment by the late George W.

Riggs, the distinguished banker, and was in a portion of the city which

still abounded in vacant lots. Houses in our vicinity were so widely

scattered that we had an almost uninterrupted view of that part of the

District boundary which is now Florida Avenue. As these were the days of

horse cars, it was my habit to stand in my vestibule and wait for a car,

as I could see it approaching a long distance off, although we lived

half a block from the route, which was on Fourteenth Street. The entire

northwestern section of the city, which is now a semi-palatial region,

was also, at that time, largely a sea of vacant lots. The only house on

Dupont Circle was "Stewart Castle," and the fashionable part of the city

was still that portion below Pennsylvania Avenue, bounded on the east by

Seventeenth Street, although the general trend in the erection of fine

residences was towards the northwest. Many of the streets were not

paved, but the _régime_ of Alexander R. Shepherd, familiarly called

"Boss Shepherd," changed all of this, and the work of grading commenced.

It was a trying ordeal for property owners, as it left many houses high

in the air and others below the customary grade, while many from the

ranks of the poorer classes, unable to meet the necessary assessments,

were forced to part with their homes. In the course of several years,

however, the situation righted itself. Cellars were dug and English

basements became prevalent, and it is only occasionally that one now

sees a house far above the level of the street. We sometimes hear the

praises of Mr. Shepherd sung, and without a doubt he made Washington

the beautiful city it is to-day, but he accomplished it only at a

tremendous cost--the sacrifice of many homes. Next followed the paving

of the streets with wooden blocks; and I was much surprised when they

were being laid on Fourteenth Street, as I recalled the time during my

earlier days in New York when they were used in paving Broadway, and I

also well remember how speedily they degenerated and decayed. I was

told, however, that this form of block was an improvement upon the old

style, and was induced to believe it until I saw Fourteenth Street and

Pennsylvania Avenue masses of holes and ruts!

After we were fairly settled in our new home I made the pleasing

discovery that my next door neighbors were our old acquaintances, Mr.

and Mrs. Edmund Pendleton Gaines. Mrs. Gaines was Frances Hogan, a

former neighbor of ours in Houston Street in New York. William Hogan,

her aged father, was living with her, and their close proximity recalled

many early memories. He was a gentleman of broad culture and a

proficient linguist, and at an early age had accompanied his father to

the Cape of Good Hope. He formed an intimacy with Lord Byron at Harrow,

where he received the early portion of his education. Byron was not then

a student but was occupying a small room at Harrow, which he called his

"den." Another of Mr. Hogan's daughters, who is still living, wrote me

that at this time Lord Byron was a young man and her father a little

boy. She says: "Lord Byron often admitted my father to his room, when he

would make him repeat stories of his African life and describe the

occasional appearance of an orang-outang walking through the streets of

Cape Town." After his father's return to New York, Mr. Hogan attended

Columbia College, from which he was graduated in 1811, and afterwards

studied law. He subsequently purchased land in the Black River country

and did much to develop that portion of his native State. The town of

Hogansburg in Franklin County was named after him. He became a county

judge and member of Congress and later resided in Washington, where he

was employed in the Department of State, first as an examiner of claims

and then as an official interpreter.

A short distance from our home and on the same street lived Dr. and Mrs.

Alexander Sharp with their large and interesting family of children, one

of whom, bearing the same name as his father, recently died in

Washington while a Captain in the Navy. Dr. Sharp's wife was a younger

sister of Mrs. U. S. Grant, and her husband was ably filling at the time

the position of U.S. Marshal of the District of Columbia. A few doors

from Mrs. Sharp's lived her sister-in-law, the widow of Louis Dent; and

in the same block, but nearer Thirteenth Street, were the residences of

two agreeable Army families, Colonel and Mrs. Almon F. Rockwell and

Colonel and Mrs. Asa Bacon Carey, the latter of whom was the niece of

the late Senator Redfield Proctor of Vermont. I formed a pleasant

friendship almost immediately with Mrs. Sharp and was always received

with much cordiality in her home. Corcoran Street, in fact, from a

social point of view, proved to be an ideal locality until its

tranquillity was disturbed by the advent of Mr. ---- and family, the

former of whom was the Washington representative of a prominent New York

daily paper whose columns had been strongly denunciatory of Grant and

antagonistic to his election, while they abounded in praises of Greeley.

Both Mr. and Mrs. ----were persons of much culture, but they were

unfortunate in their selection of a home, as the personal and political

sentiment of the neighborhood was friendly to Grant, while his family

connections, the Dents and Sharps, residing in that part of the city,

were deservedly popular. My own position was one of much delicacy.

Although I was especially fond of Mrs. Dent and Mrs. Sharp, I could not,

in view of Mr. Gouverneur's active interest in the Greeley campaign, be

quite so enthusiastic over the Grant administration as were most of my

neighbors, and, therefore, when I was invited by a mutual friend to call

upon Mrs. ----I had no hesitation in doing so. I was taken to task for

my act, however, by some of my friends, but I survived the rebuke and am

still alive to tell the tale. I was told that, several months after the

family just referred to was established in its Corcoran Street home,

Mrs. ----was returning unaccompanied to her residence one evening, when

a colored man, carrying a bucket of mud in one hand and a brush in the

other, ran after her and besmeared her clothing; but the Dents and

Grants were not of the class of people to approve of such a ruffianly

act, nor were any of the other decent residents in the community. If

Mrs. Sharp ever had any feeling in connection with my calling upon Mrs.

----, I never knew of it. Our relations were of the most cordial

character from the first, and when her niece, Nellie Grant, was married

to Algernon Sartoris she brought me a box of wedding cake, coupling with

it the remark that she knew of no one more entitled to it than

I--referring, I presume, to the associations connecting the Gouverneur

family with the White House. After the close of the Grant

administration, Dr. Sharp was appointed a paymaster in the Army and for

many years resided with his family in Yankton, Dakota. I remained in

touch with Mrs. Sharp, however, and for a long period we kept up an

active correspondence.

At this period Vice-Presidents were not so much _en évidence_ as later,

and Vice-President and Mrs. Schuyler Colfax lived quietly in Washington

and mingled but little in the social world. During his life at the

Capital, Mr. Colfax repeatedly delivered his eloquent oration on

Lincoln, which concluded with the lines of N. P. Willis on the death of

President William Henry Harrison:--

Let us weep in our darkness, but weep not for him--

Not for him who, departing, leaves millions in tears,

Not for him who has died full of honor and years,

Not for him who ascended Fame's ladder so high,

From the round at the top he has stepped to the sky.

Directly back of us on Q Street lived an old and intimate friend of

mine, Mrs. Septimia Randolph Meikleham, the last surviving grandchild of

Thomas Jefferson. She was the widow of Dr. David Scott Meikleham of

Glasgow, who was a relative of Sir Walter Scott and died in early life

in New York. Mrs. Meikleham was the seventh daughter (hence her name

"Septimia," suggested by her grandfather) of Governor Thomas Mann

Randolph of Virginia and his wife Martha, the younger daughter of Thomas

Jefferson. She was born at Monticello and was familiarly known to her

intimate friends as "Tim," a name in surprising contrast with her

elegance and dignity. She bore a striking resemblance to her

grandfather, and, although a woman of commanding presence, was simple

and unaffected in manner. Strong in her convictions, attractive in

conversation and loyal in her friendships, she and her home were sources

of great delight to me, and it was pleasing to both of us that her

children and mine should have been brought into intimate contact. Mrs.

Meikleham and I often dwelt upon this family intimacy extending unbroken

from Jefferson and Monroe down to the fourth generation. In the same

block with Mrs. Meikleham lived Mr. and Mrs. John W. Douglas, the former

of whom, some years later, during the Harrison administration, was one

of the District Commissioners. A daughter of his is the wife of Henry B.

F. Macfarland, the late Senior Commissioner of the District, who, as

well as his wife, is universally respected and beloved in Washington. On

the same street, but on the other side of Fourteenth Street, Colonel and

Mrs. Robert N. Scott resided for many years; while just around the

corner, on Iowa Circle, in what was then a palatial home, lived Allan

McLane and his only child, Anne, who married from this house John

Cropper of New York. She is now a widow but lives in Washington, where

she is greatly beloved. In this same general region, on the corner of N

and Fourteenth Street, lived Lieutenant Commander (now Rear Admiral) and

Mrs. Francis J. Higginson, and the latter's attractive sister, Miss Mary

Haldane.

Not far from our dwelling on Corcoran Street lived the attractive wife

of _Monsieur_ Grimaud de Caux, _Chancelier_ of the French legation, who

left unfading memories behind her. During our many delightful chats I

was much interested in the accounts of her early life and experiences in

Ireland, and I especially recall many things she told me concerning the

members of the Wilde family, with whom she had been quite intimately

associated. I learned from her that Oscar Wilde inherited his æsthetic

tastes largely from his mother. She was a woman of unusual type and

habitually dressed in white--at a time, too, before white garments had

become so generally prevalent. I was also told that Oscar Wilde's father

was an oculist of some prominence, and that he built a mansion so

singular in its construction that the wits of Dublin called it "Wilde's

eye-sore."

Another of my intimate friends of those days was Mrs. Mary Donelson

Wilcox, widow of the Hon. John A. Wilcox, formerly Secretary of the U.S.

Senate, a Member of Congress and a veteran of the Mexican War. She was a

woman of rare intellectual ability, and subsequent to her husband's

death was for a time one of the official translators of the government.

She was the daughter of Colonel Andrew Jackson Donelson, a nephew of

President Jackson as well as his adopted son and private secretary.

General Jackson when President was a widower, and it was while Mrs.

Donelson was presiding as mistress of the White House that Mrs. Wilcox

was born. Her memory remained clear until her last illness, and her

recollections of prominent men and events, extending back to her

childhood, and especially those of her early life at the White House,

were of exceptional interest. I was especially amused by her account of

the prompt manner in which General Jackson sent her mother back to

Tennessee because she refused to accord social recognition to the wife

of General John H. Eaton, his Secretary of War. As is well known, this

was "Peggy O'Neal" who, before her marriage to Eaton, was the widow of

Purser John B. Timberlake of our Navy, who committed suicide while

serving in the Mediterranean. The relation which she sustained to the

disruption of Jackson's cabinet has passed into history and is too well

known to bear repetition here. As Colonel Donelson shared the views of

his wife, he resigned his position as the President's private secretary

and returned with her to Tennessee. He was succeeded by Nicholas P.

Trist of the State Department, but a few months later, through the

kindly offices of personal friends, they were both restored to Jackson's

favor and resumed their former functions in the White House.

Just across the street from our home lived Mr. and Mrs. Bernard P.

Mimmack and the latter's mother, Mrs. Mary Bailey Collins, widow of

Captain Charles Oliver Collins of the U.S. Army, and a typical

representative of the New York gentlewomen of former days. She was one

of the Bailey family, which was much identified with the history of New

York, and she and her daughter, Mrs. Mimmack, were valuable additions to

our community. Of Mr. Mimmack, only recently deceased, I can speak only

in terms of the warmest praise. He was a true friend to me and many

times during my widowhood placed his ripe judgment and wide experience

at my command.

As I first remember Professor and Mrs. Joseph Henry, they were living

with their three daughters in a portion of the Smithsonian Institution.

He was a man whose public career and private life commanded universal

respect, while his scientific discoveries, both at Princeton College and

at the National Capital, marked him as one of the most distinguished men

of his day. I am not qualified to pronounce upon his scholarly

attainments nor upon the estimate in which he is held by the learned

world of to-day, but it may be assumed that the eulogistic words of the

late Professor Simon Newcomb, himself a scientific giant, represent the

truth. "Professor Joseph Henry, first secretary of the Smithsonian

Institution," he wrote, "was a man of whom it may be said, without any

reflection on men of our generation, that he held a place which has

never been filled. I do not mean his official place, but his position as

the recognized leader and exponent of scientific interests at the

National Capital. A world-wide reputation as a scientific investigator,

exalted character and inspiring presence, broad views of men and things,

the love and esteem of all, combined to make him the man to whom all who

knew him looked for counsel and guidance in matters affecting the

interests of science. Whether anyone could since have assumed this

position, I will not venture to say; but the fact seems to be that no

one has been at the same time able and willing to assume it."

The society circle in Washington in 1873 was small compared with that of

to-day. There was much less form and ceremony, fewer social cliques and

a greater degree of affability. The "Old Washingtonians" were more _en

évidence_ than now and the political element came and went without

disturbing in any marked degree the harmony of the social atmosphere.

There were, however, many in public life whose families were cordially

received into the most exclusive circles of Washington society and

enriched it by their presence. Mrs. Hamilton Fish held social sway by

the innate force of character and general attractiveness with which

nature had so lavishly endowed her. Mrs. James G. Blaine, whose husband

was in Congress when I first knew them, shared in his popularity. Mrs.

George M. Robeson, wife of Grant's Secretary of the Navy, lived on K

Street and kept open house. The Secretary of the Treasury and Mrs.

William A. Richardson, who lived in the old Hill house on H Street, were

well known and very popular. Francis Kernan, the junior Senator from New

York, with his wife and daughter, was seen everywhere. Thomas Kernan,

their son, who eventually became a Roman Catholic priest, was a great

dancer and a general favorite. Roscoe Conkling, the senior Senator from

New York, was socially disposed, but his wife, who was a sister of

Horatio Seymour, although well fitted for social life, took but little