CHAPTER IV

LIFE AND EXPERIENCES IN THE METROPOLIS

My health was somewhat impaired by an attack of chills and fever while I

was still a pupil at Madame Chegaray's school. Long Island was

especially affected with this malady, and even certain locations on the

Hudson were on this account regarded with disfavor. In subsequent years,

when the building operations of the Hudson River railroad cut off the

water in many places and formed stagnant pools, it became much worse. As

I began to convalesce, Dr. John W. Francis prescribed a change of air,

and I was accordingly sent to Saratoga to be under the care of my

friend, Mrs. Richard Armistead of North Carolina. A few days after my

arrival we were joined by Mrs. De Witt Clinton and her attractive

step-daughter, Julia Clinton. The United States Hotel, where we stayed,

was thronged with visitors, but as I was only a young girl my

observation of social life was naturally limited and I knew but few

persons. Mrs. Clinton was a granddaughter of Philip Livingston, the

Signer, and married at a mature age. She had a natural and most profound

admiration for the memory of her illustrious husband, whom I have heard

her describe as "a prince among men," and she cherished an undying

resentment for any of his political antagonists.

While we were still at the United States Hotel, Martin Van Buren, at

that time President of the United States, arrived in Saratoga and

sojourned at the same hotel with us. His visit made an indelible

impression upon my memory owing to a highly sensational incident. During

the evening of the President's arrival Mrs. Clinton was promenading in

the large parlor of the hotel, leaning upon the arm of the Portuguese

_Chargé d'Affaires_, Senhor Joaquim Cesar de Figanière, when Mr. Van

Buren espying her advanced with his usual suavity of manner to meet her.

With a smile upon his face, he extended his hand, whereupon Mrs. Clinton

immediately turned her back and compelled her escort to imitate her,

apparently ignoring the fact that he was a foreign diplomat and that his

conduct might subsequently be resented by the authorities in Washington.

This incident, occurring as it did in a crowded room, was observed by

many of the guests and naturally created much comment. In talking over

the incident the next day Mrs. Clinton told me she was under the

impression that Mr. Van Buren clearly understood her feelings in regard

to him, as some years previous, when he and General Andrew Jackson

called upon her together, she had declined to see him, although Jackson

had been admitted. This act was characteristic of the woman. It was the

expression of a resentment which she had harbored against Mr. Van Buren

for years and which she was only abiding her time to display. I was

standing at Mrs. Clinton's side during this dramatic episode, and to my

youthful fancy she seemed, indeed, a heroine!

Mrs. Clinton was a social leader in Gotham before the days of the

_nouveaux riches_, and her sway was that of an autocrat. Her presence

was in every way imposing. She possessed many charming characteristics

and was in more respects than one an uncrowned queen, retaining her

wonderful tact and social power until the day of her death. I love to

dwell upon Mrs. Clinton because, apart from her remarkable personal

characteristics, she was the friend of my earlier life. Possessed as she

was of many eccentricities, her excellencies far counterbalanced them.

Of the latter, I recall especially the unusual ability and care she

displayed in housekeeping, which at that time was regarded as an

accomplishment in which every woman took particular pride. To be still

more specific, she apparently had a much greater horror of dirt than the

average housewife, and carried her antipathy to such an extent that she

tolerated but few fires in her University Place establishment in New

York, as she seriously objected to the uncleanness caused by the dust

and ashes! No matter how cold her house nor how frigid the day, she

never seemed to suffer but, on the contrary, complained that her home

was overheated. Her guests frequently commented upon "the nipping and

eager air" which Shakespeare's Horatio speaks of, but it made no

apparent impression upon their hostess.

Mrs. Clinton's articulation was affected by a slight stammer, which, in

my opinion, but added piquancy to her epigrammatic sayings. She once

remarked to me, "I shall never be c-c-cold until I'm dead." An impulse

took possession of me which somehow, in spite of the great difference in

our ages, I seemed unable to resist, and I retorted, "We are not all

assured of our temperatures at that period." She regarded me for a few

moments with unfeigned astonishment, but said nothing. I did not suffer

for my temerity at that moment, but later I was chagrined to learn she

had remarked that I was the most impertinent girl she had ever known. I

remember that upon another occasion she told me that one of Governor

Clinton's grandchildren, Augusta Clinton, was about to leave school at a

very early age. "Doesn't she intend to finish her education?" I

inquired. "No," was the quick and emphatic but stuttering reply, "she's

had sufficient education. I was at school only two months, and I'm sure

I'm smart enough." Her niece, Margaret Gelston, who was present and was

remarkable for her clear wits, retorted: "Only think how much smarter

you'd have been if you had remained longer." In an angry tone Mrs.

Clinton replied, "I don't want to be any smarter, I'm smart enough."

Mrs. Clinton's two nieces, the Misses Mary and Margaret Gelston, were

among my earliest and most intimate friends. They occupied a prominent

social position in New York and both were well known for their unusual

intellectuality. They were daughters of Maltby Gelston, President of the

Manhattan Bank, and granddaughters of David Gelston, who was appointed

Collector of the Port of New York by Jefferson and retained that

position for twenty years. Late in life Mary Gelston married Henry R.

Winthrop of New York. She died a few years ago leaving an immense estate

to Princeton Theological Seminary. "I pray," reads her will, "that the

Trustees of this Institution may make such use of this bequest as that

the extension of the Church of Christ on earth and the glory of God may

be promoted thereby." In the same instrument she adds: "As a similar

bequest would have been made by my deceased sister, Margaret L. Gelston,

had she survived me, I desire that the said Trustees should regard it as

given jointly by my said sister and by me." Some distant relatives,

thinking that her money could be more satisfactorily employed than in

the manner indicated, contested the will, and the Seminary finally

received, as the result of a compromise, between $1,600,000 and

$1,700,000.

One of my earliest recollections is of John Jacob Astor, a feeble old

man descending the doorsteps of his home on Broadway near Houston Street

to enter his carriage. His house was exceedingly plain and was one of a

row owned by him. His son, William Backhouse Astor, who married a

daughter of General John Armstrong, Secretary of War under President

Madison, during at least a portion of his father's life lived in a fine

house on Lafayette Place. I have attended evening parties there that

were exceedingly simple in character, and at which Mrs. Astor was always

plainly dressed and wore no jewels. I have a very distinct recollection

of one of these parties owing to a ludicrous incident connected with

myself. My mother was a woman of decidedly domestic tastes, whose whole

life was so immersed in her large family of children that she never

allowed an event of a social character to interfere with what she

regarded as her household or maternal duties. We older children were

therefore much thrown upon our own resources from a social point of

view, and when I grew into womanhood and entered society I was usually

accompanied to entertainments by my father. Sometimes, however, I went

with my lifelong friend, Margaret Tillotson Kemble, a daughter of

William Kemble, of whom I shall speak hereafter. Upon this particular

occasion I had gone early in the day to the Kembles preparatory to

spending the night there, with the intention of attending a ball at the

Astors'. Having dined, supped, and dressed myself for the occasion, in

company with Miss Kemble and her father I reached the Astor residence,

where I found on the doorstep an Irish maid from my own home awaiting my

arrival. In her hand she held an exquisite bouquet of pink and white

japonicas which had been sent to me by John Still Winthrop, the _fiancé_

of Susan Armistead, another of my intimate friends. The bouquet had

arrived just after my departure from home and, quite unknown to my

family, the Irish maid out of the goodness of her heart had taken it

upon herself to see that it was placed in my hands. I learned later

that, much to the amusement of many of the guests, she had been awaiting

my arrival for several hours. It seems almost needless to add that I

carried my flowers throughout the evening with much girlish pride and

pleasure.

Among the guests at this ball was Mrs. Francis R. Boreel, the young and

beautiful daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Walter Langdon, who wore in her dark

hair a diamond necklace, a recent gift from her grandfather, John Jacob

Astor. It was currently rumored at the time that it cost twenty thousand

dollars, which was then a very large amount to invest in a single

article of that character. Mrs. Langdon's two other daughters were Mrs.

Matthew Wilks, who married abroad and spent her life there, and the

first Mrs. De Lancey Kane, who made a runaway match, and both of whom

left descendants in New York. All three women were celebrated for their

beauty, but Mrs. Boreel was usually regarded as the handsomest of the

trio. Mrs. Walter Langdon was Dorothea Astor, a daughter of John Jacob

Astor, and her husband was a grandson of Judge John Langdon of New

Hampshire, who equipped Stark's regiment for the battle of Bennington,

and who for twelve years was a member of the United States Senate and

was present as President _pro tempore_ of that body at the first

inauguration of Washington.

Another society woman whose presence at this ball I recall, and without

whom no entertainment was regarded as complete, was Mrs. Charles

Augustus Davis, wife of the author of the well-known "Jack Downing

Letters." Indeed, the name "Jack Downing" seemed so much a part of the

Davis family that in after years I have often heard Mrs. Davis called

"Mrs. Jack Downing." The Davises had a handsome daughter who married a

gentleman of French descent, but neither of them long survived the

marriage.

In an old newspaper of 1807 I came across the following marriage notice,

which was the first Astor wedding to occur in this country:

BENTZON--ASTOR. Married, on Monday morning, the 14th ult.

[September], by the Rev. Mr. [Ralph] Williston, Adrian B.

Bentzon, Esq., of the Isle of St. Croix, to Miss Magdalen

Astor, daughter of John Jacob Astor of this city.

It was while on a cruise among the West Indies that Miss Astor met Mr.

Bentzon, a Danish gentleman of good family but moderate fortune. In the

early part of the last century many ambitious foreigners went to that

part of the world with the intention of making their fortunes.

Another daughter of John Jacob Astor, Eliza, married Count Vincent

Rumpff, who was for some years Minister at the Court of the Tuileries

from the Hanseatic towns of Germany. She was well known through life,

and long remembered after death, for her symmetrical Christian

character. One of her writings, entitled "Transplanted Flowers," has

been published in conjunction with one of the Duchesse de Broglie,

daughter of Madame de Staël, with whom she was intimately associated in

her Christian works.

Henry Astor, the brother of John Jacob Astor, was the first of the

family to come to America. I am able to state, upon the authority of the

late Rev. Dr. Morgan Dix, rector of Trinity church in New York, and a

life-long friend of the whole Astor connection, that he was a private in

a Hessian regiment that fought against our colonies in the Revolutionary

War. After its close he decided to remain in New York where he entered

the employment of a butcher in the old Oswego market. He subsequently

embarked upon more ambitious enterprises, became a highly successful

business man and at his death left a large fortune to his childless

widow. Dr. Dix has stated that it was probably through him that the

younger brother came to this country. However this may be, John Jacob

Astor sailed for America as a steerage passenger in a ship commanded by

Capt. Jacob Stout and arrived in Baltimore in January, 1784. He

subsequently went to New York, where he spent his first night in the

house of George Dieterich, a fellow countryman whom he had known in

Germany and by whom he was now employed to peddle cakes. After remaining

in his employ for a time and accumulating a little money he hired a

store of his own where he sold toys and German knickknacks. He

afterwards added skins and even musical instruments to his stock in

trade, as will appear from the following in _The Daily Advertiser_ of

New York, of the 2d of January, 1789, and following issues:

J. Jacob Astor,

At No. 81, Queen-street,

Next door but one to the Friends Meeting-House,

Has for sale an assortment of

Piano fortes, of the newest construction,

Made by the best makers in London, which he will sell on

reasonable terms.

He gives Cash for all kinds of FURS:

And has for sale a quantity of Canada Beaver, and

Beaver Coating, Racoon Skins, and Racoon Blankets,

Muskrat Skins, &c. &c.

It would seem that these Astor pianos were manufactured in London and

that George Astor, an elder brother of John Jacob Astor, was associated

with the latter in their sale. Indeed, one of them, formerly owned by

the Clinton family and now in Washington's Headquarters in Newburgh,

bears the name of "Geo. Astor & Co., Cornhill, London;" while still

another in my immediate neighborhood in Washington has the inscription

of "Astor and Camp, 79 Cornhill, London." Their octaves were few in

number, and a pupil of Chopin would have regarded them with scorn; but

upon these little spindle-legged affairs a duet could be performed. My

first knowledge of instrumental music was derived from one of these

pianos, and among the earliest recollections of my childhood is that of

hearing my three maiden aunts, my father's sisters, playing in turn the

inspiring Scotch airs upon the Astor piano that stood in their

drawing-room. One of their songs was especially inimical to cloistered

life and it, too, was possibly of Scotch origin. I am unable to recall

its exact words, but its refrain ran as follows:

I will not be a nun,

I can not be a nun,

I shall not be a nun,

I'm so fond of pleasure

I'll not be a nun.

I own an original letter written by John Jacob Astor from New York on

the 26th of April, 1826, addressed to ex-President James Monroe, my

husband's grandfather, which I regard as interesting on account of its

quaint style:

Dear Sir,

Permit me to congratulate you on your Honourable retirement

[from public life] for which I most sincerely wish you may

enjoy that Peace and Tranquility to which you are so justly

entitled.

Without wishing to cause you any Inconveniency [sic] on

account of the loan which I so long since made to you I

would be glad if you would put it in a train of sittlelment

[sic] if not the whole let it be a part with the interest

Due.

I hope Dear Sir that you and Mrs. Monroe enjoy the best of

health and that you may live many years to wittness [sic]

the Prosperity of the country to which you have so

generously contributed.

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

J. J. ASTOR.

The Honble James Monroe.

It may here be stated that Mr. Astor's solicitude concerning Mr.

Monroe's financial obligation was duly relieved, and that the debt was

paid in full.

John Jacob Astor's numerous descendants can lay this "flattering

unction" to their souls, that every dollar of his vast wealth was

accumulated through thrift while leading an upright life.

An old-fashioned stage coach in my early days ran between New York and

Harlem, but the fashionable drive was on the west side of the city

along what was then called the "Bloomingdale Road." Many fashionable New

Yorkers owned and occupied handsome country seats along this route, and

closed their city homes for a period during the heated term. I recall

with pleasure the home of the Prussian Consul General and Mrs. John

William Schmidt, and especially their attractive daughters. Mr. Schmidt,

who came to this country as a bachelor, married Miss Eliza Ann Bache of

New York. Quite a number of years subsequent to this event, before they

had children of their own, they adopted a little girl whom they named

Julia and whom I knew very well in my early girlhood. As equestrian

exercise was popular in New York at that time, many of the young men and

women riding on the Bloomingdale Road would stop at the Schmidts'

hospitable home, rest their horses and enjoy a pleasing half-hour's

conversation with the daughters of the household. Among the fair riders

was Mary Tallmadge, a famous beauty and a daughter of General James

Tallmadge. During her early life and at a period when visits abroad were

few and far between, her father accompanied her to Europe. During her

travels on the continent she visited St. Petersburg, where her beauty

created a great sensation. While there the Emperor Nicholas I. presented

her with a handsome India shawl. She returned to America, married Philip

S. Van Rensselaer, a son of the old Patroon, and lived for many years on

Washington Square in New York.

Alexander Hamilton and family also owned and occupied a house in this

charming suburb called "The Grange." It was subsequently occupied by

Herman Thorne, who had married Miss Jane Mary Jauncey, a wealthy heiress

of New York. He lived in this house only a few years when he went with

his wife to reside in Paris during the reign of Louis Philippe. Mr.

Thorne became the most prominent American resident there and excited

the envy of many of his countrymen by his lavish expenditure of money.

His daughters made foreign matrimonial alliances. He was originally from

Schenectady, for a time was a purser in the U.S. Navy, and was

remarkable for his handsome presence and courtly bearing.

Jacob Lorillard lived in a handsome house in Manhattanville, a short

distance from the Bloomingdale Road. He began life, first as an

apprentice and then as a proprietor, in the tanning and hide business,

and his tannery was on Pearl Street. He then, with his brothers,

embarked in the manufacture and sale of snuff and tobacco, in which, as

is well known, he amassed an immense fortune. My earliest recollection

of the family is in the days of its great prosperity. One of Mr.

Lorillard's daughters, Julia, who married Daniel Edgar, I knew very

well, and I recall a visit I once made her in her beautiful home, where

I also attended her wedding a few years later. At this time her mother

was a widow, and shortly after the marriage the place was sold to the

Catholic order of the _Sacre Coeur_. Mrs. Jacob Lorillard was a daughter

of the Rev. Doctor Johann Christoff Kunze, professor of Oriental

Languages in Columbia College.

Many years ago the wags of London exhausted their wits in fittingly

characterizing and ridiculing the numerous equipages of a London

manufacturer of snuff and tobacco. One couplet suggestive of the manner

in which this vast wealth was acquired, was

Who would have thought it

That Noses had bought it.

The suitor of the daughter of this wealthy Englishman was appropriately

dubbed "Up to Snuff." Alas, this ancestral and aristocratic luxury of

snuff departed many years ago, but succeeding generations have been "up

to snuff" in many other ways. The gold snuff-box frequently studded

with gems which I remember so well in days gone by and especially at the

home Gouverneur Kemble in Cold Spring, where it was passed around and

freely used by both men and women, now commands no respect except as an

ancestral curio. Dryden, Dean Swift, Pope, Addison, Lord Chesterfield,

Dr. Johnson, Garrick, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Keats, Charles Lamb, Gibbon,

Walter Scott and Darwin were among the prominent worshipers of the

snuff-box and its contents, while some of them indulged in the habit to

the degree of intemperance. In describing his manner of using the

snuff-box Gibbon wrote: "I drew my snuff-box, rapped it, took snuff

twice, and continued my discourse in my usual attitude of my body bent

forwards, and my fore-finger stretched out;" and Boswell wrote in its

praise:

Oh, snuff! our fashionable end and aim--

Strasburgh, Rappe, Dutch, Scotch--whate'er thy name!

Powder celestial! quintessence divine

New joys entrance my soul while thou art mine;

Who takes? who takes thee not? Where'er I range

I smell thy sweets from Pall Mall to the 'Change.

While the spirit of patriotism was as prevalent in early New York as it

is now, it seems to me that it was somewhat less demonstrative. The 4th

of July, however, was anticipated by the youngsters of the day with the

greatest eagerness and pleasure. It was the habit of my father, for many

years, to take us children early in the morning to the City Hall to

attend the official observances of the day, an experience which we

naturally regarded as a great privilege. Booths were temporarily erected

all along the pavement in front of the City Hall, where substantial food

was displayed and sold to the crowds collected to assist in celebrating

the day. About noon several military companies arrived upon the scene

and took their positions in the park, where, after a number of

interesting maneuvers, a salute was fired which was terrifying to my

youthful nerves. Small boys, then as now, provided themselves with

pistols, and human life was occasionally sacrificed to patriotic ardor,

although I never remember hearing of cases of lockjaw resulting from

such accidents, as is so frequently the case at present. Firecrackers

and torpedoes were then in vogue, but skyrockets and more elaborate

fireworks had not then come into general use. I do not recall that the

national flag was especially prominent upon the "glorious fourth," and

it is my impression that this insignia of patriotism was not universally

displayed upon patriotic occasions until the Civil War.

The musical world of New York lay dormant until about the year 1825,

when Dominick Lynch, much to the delight of the cultivated classes,

introduced the Italian Opera. Through his instrumentality Madame

Malibran, her father, Signor Garcia, and her brother, Manuel Garcia, who

by the way died abroad in 1906, nearly ninety-nine years of age, came to

this country and remained for quite a period. I have heard many sad

traditions regarding Malibran, whose name is certainly immortal in the

annals of the musical world. Mr. Lynch was the social leader of his day

in New York, was æsthetic in his tastes, and possessed a highly

cultivated voice. He frequently sang the beautiful old ballads so much

in vogue at that period. I have heard through Mrs. Samuel L. Hinckley,

an old friend of mine, who remembered the incident, that during a visit

to Boston when he sang Tom Moore's pathetic ballad, "Oft in the Stilly

Night," there was scarcely a dry eye in the room. In referring to the

introduction of the Italian Opera into this country Dr. John W. Francis

in his "Old New York" thus speaks of Dominick Lynch: "For this

advantageous accession to the resources of mental gratification, we were

indebted to the taste and refinement of Dominick Lynch, the liberality

of the manager of the Park Theater, Stephen Price, and the distinguished

reputation of the Venetian, Lorenzo Da Ponte. Lynch, a native of New

York, was the acknowledged head of the fashionable and festive board, a

gentleman of the ton and a melodist of great powers and of exquisite

taste; he had long striven to enhance the character of our music; he was

the master of English song, but he felt, from his close cultivation of

music and his knowledge of the genius of his countrymen, that much was

wanting, and that more could be accomplished, and he sought out, while

in Europe, an Italian _troupe_, which his persuasive eloquence and the

liberal spirit of Price led to embark for our shores where they arrived

in November, 1825." Stephen Price here referred to by Dr. Francis was

the manager of the old Park Theater. Dominick Lynch's grandson, Nicholas

Luquer, who with his charming wife, formerly Miss Helen K. Shelton of

New York, resides in Washington, and his son, Lynch Luquer, inherit the

musical ability of their ancestor.

The great actors of the day performed in the Park Theater. I also

vividly remember the Bowery Theater, as well as in subsequent years

Burton's Theater in Chambers Street and the Astor Place Theater. When

William C. Macready, the great English actor, was performing in the

latter in 1849 a riot occurred caused by the jealousy existing between

him and his American rival, Edwin Forrest. Forrest had not been well

received in England owing, as he believed, to the unfriendly influence

of Macready. While the latter was considered by many the better actor,

Forrest was exceptionally popular with a certain class of people in New

York whose sympathies were easily enlisted and whose passions were

readily aroused. During the evening referred to, while Macready was

acting in the _rôle_ of Macbeth, a determined mob attacked the theater,

and the riot was not quelled until after a bitter struggle, in which the

police and the military were engaged, and during which twenty-one were

killed and thirty-three wounded.

In consequence of this unfortunate rivalry and its bloody results,

Forrest became morbid, and his domestic infelicities that followed

served to still further embitter his life. In 1850 his wife instituted

proceedings for divorce in the Superior Court of the City of New York,

and the trial was protracted for two years. She was represented by the

eminent jurist, Charles O'Conor, while Forrest employed "Prince" John

Van Buren, son of the ex-President. The legal struggle was one of the

most celebrated in the annals of the New York bar. There was abundant

evidence of moral delinquency on the part of both parties to the suit,

but the verdict was in favor of Mrs. Forrest. She was the daughter of

John Sinclair, formerly a drummer in the English army and subsequently a

professional singer. James Gordon Bennett said of her in the _Herald_

that "being born and schooled in turmoil and dissipation and reared in

constant excitement she could not live without it."

I have heard it said that one day John Van Buren was asked by a

disgruntled friend at the close of a hotly contested suit whether there

was any case so vile or disreputable that he would refuse to act as

counsel for the accused. The quick response was: "I must first know the

circumstances of the case; but what have you been doing?" Dr. Valentine

Mott, who for many years was a resident of Paris, gave a fancy-dress

ball in New York in honor of the Prince de Joinville, son of Louis

Philippe. At this entertainment John Van Buren appeared in the usual

evening dress with a red sash tied around his waist. Much to the

amusement of the guests whom he met, his salutation was: "Would you know

me?" It will be remembered that he was familiarly called "Prince John,"

owing to the fact that he had once danced with Queen Victoria prior to

her ascension to the throne. One day Van Buren met on the street James

T. Brady, a lawyer of equal ability and wit, who had recently returned

from a visit to England. In a most patronizing manner he inquired

whether he had seen the Queen. "Certainly," said Mr. Brady, "and under

these circumstances. I was walking along the street when by chance the

Queen's carriage overtook me, and the moment Her Majesty's eye lighted

upon me she exclaimed: 'Hello, Jim Brady, when did you hear from John

Van Buren?'" I recall another amusing anecdote about John Van Buren

during my school days. Mustaches were at that time worn chiefly by the

sporting element. Mr. Van Buren, who was very attentive to Catharine

Theodora Duer, a daughter of President William Alexander Duer of

Columbia College, and who, by the way, never married, adopted this style

of facial adornment, but the young woman objecting to it he cut it off

and sent it to her in a letter. Prince John Van Buren's daughter, Miss

Anna Vander Poel Van Buren, many years thereafter, married Edward

Alexander Duer, a nephew of this Catharine Theodora Duer.

It was my very great pleasure to know Fanny Kemble and her father,

Charles Kemble. She was, indeed, the queen of tragedy, and delighted the

histrionic world of New York by her remarkable rendering of the plays of

Shakespeare. In later years when I heard her give Shakespearian

readings, I regarded the occasion as an epoch in my life. In this

connection I venture to express my surprise that the classical English

quotations so pleasing to the ear in former days are now so seldom

heard. It seems unfortunate that the epigrammatic sentences, for

example, of grand old Dr. Samuel Johnson have become almost obsolete. In

former years Byron appealed to the sentiment, while the more ambitious

quoted Greek maxims. The sayings of the old authors were recalled,

mingled with the current topics of the day. It would seem, however, that

the present generation is decidedly more interested in quotations from

the stock exchange. Edmund Burke said that "the age of chivalry is

gone, that of sophists, economists, and calculators has succeeded."

Upon her return to England Fanny Kemble published her journal kept while

in the United States, which was by no means pleasing in every respect to

her American readers. It is said that in one of her literary effusions

she dwelt upon a custom, which she claimed was prevalent in America, of

parents naming their children after classical heroes, and gave as an

example a child in New York who bore the name of Alfonzo Alonzo

Agamemnon Dionysius Bogardus. The sister of this youth, she stated, was

named Clementina Seraphina Imogen. I think this statement must have been

evolved from her own brain, as it would be difficult to conceive of

parents who would consent to make their children notorious in such a

ridiculous manner. Fanny Kemble married Pierce Butler, a lawyer of

ability and cousin of the U.S. Senator from South Carolina of the same

name, and they were divorced in 1849, when the Hon. George M. Dallas was

counsel for Fanny Kemble and Rufus Choate appeared for her husband.

Fanny Elssler, a queen of grace and beauty on the stage, delighted

immense audiences at the Park Theater. She came to this country under

the auspices of Chevalier Henry Wikoff, a roving but accomplished

soldier of fortune, who pitched his camp in both continents. Upon her

arrival in New York the "divine Fanny," as she was invariably called,

was borne to her destination in a carriage from which the horses had

been detached by her enthusiastic _adorateurs_, led by August Belmont.

She was, indeed,

A being so fair that the same lips and eyes

She bore on earth might serve in Paradise.

At this distant day it seems almost impossible to describe her. She

seemed to float upon the stage sustained only by the surrounding

atmosphere. In my opinion she has never had a rival, with the possible

exception of Taglioni, the great Swedish _danseuse_. I saw Fanny Elssler

dance the _cracovienne_ and the _cachucha_, and it is a memory which

will linger with me always. The music that accompanied these dances was

generally selected from the popular airs of the day. Many dark stories

were afloat concerning Fanny Elssler's private life, but to me it seems

impossible to associate her angelic presence with anything but her

wonderful art. She was never received socially in New York; indeed, the

only person that I remember connected with the stage in my early days

who had the social _entrée_ was Fanny Kemble.

We attended the Dutch Reformed Church in New York of which the Rev. Dr.

Jacob Brodhead was for many years the pastor. My aunts, however,

attended one of the three collegiate churches in the lower part of the

city, and I sometimes accompanied them and, as there was a frequent

interchange of pulpits, I became quite accustomed to hear all of the

three clergymen. The Rev. Dr. John Knox, who endeared himself to his

flock by his gentle and appealing ministrations; the Rev. Dr. Thomas De

Witt, a profound theologian and courtly gentleman; and the Rev. Dr.

William C. Brownlee, with his vigorous Scotch accent, preaching against

what he invariably called "papery" (popery), and recalling, as he did,

John Knox of old, that irritating thorn in the side of the unfortunate

Mary Queen of Scots, made up this remarkable trio. During the latter

part of his life Dr. Brownlee suffered from a stroke of paralysis which

rendered him speechless, and his Catholic adversaries improved this

opportunity to circulate the report that he had been visited by a

judgment from Heaven.

There were many shining lights in the Episcopal Church at this time in

New York. The Rev. Dr. William Berrian was the acceptable rector of St.

John's, which was then as now a chapel of Trinity Parish. The Rev. Dr.

Francis L. Hawks was the popular rector of St. Thomas's church, on the

corner of Broadway and Houston Streets. He was a North Carolinian by

birth, but is said to have been in part of Indian descent. I recall with

pleasure his masterly rendition of the Episcopal service. During the

Civil War he made it quite apparent to his parishioners that his

sympathies were with the South, and as most of them did not share his

views he moved to Baltimore, where a more congenial atmosphere

surrounded him.

The Rev. Dr. Stephen H. Tyng, senior, was the rector of St. George's

Episcopal church in the lower part of the city. He was a theologian of

the Low-Church school and was greatly esteemed by all of his colleagues.

His son, the Rev. Dr. Stephen H. Tyng, junior, was in full sympathy with

the Low-Church views of his father, and will be recalled as an

evangelical preacher of exceptional power and wide influence. In the

summer of 1867 he preached, in defiance of the canons of the Episcopal

Church, in St. James's Methodist church in New Brunswick, N.J., thus

invading without authority the parishes of the Rev. Dr. Alfred Stubs and

the Rev. Dr. Edward B. Boggs of that city. His trial was of sensational

interest, and resulted, as will be remembered, in his conviction. The

attitude of the Tyngs, father and son, was humorously described by

Anthony Bleecker, a well-known wit of the day, in these verses:

_Tyng, Junior._

I preach from barrels and from tubs,

In spite of Boggs, in spite of Stubs;

I'll preach from stumps, I'll preach from logs,

In spite of Stubs, in spite of Boggs.

_Tyng, Senior._

Do, Steve; and lay aside your gown,

Your bands and surplice throw them down;

A bob-tail coat of tweed or kersey

Is good enough at least for Jersey.

_Tyng, Junior._

What if the Bishops interfere,

And I am made a culprit clear;

Can't you a thunderbolt then forge,

And hurl it in the new St. George?

_Tyng, Senior._

Be sure I can and out of spite

A wrathy sermon I'll indite;

I'll score the court and every judge

And call the whole proceedings fudge;

And worse than that each reverent name

I'll bellow through the trump of fame;

With Bishop Potter I'll get even,

And make you out the martyr Stephen.

The Rev. Dr. Orville Dewey, renowned for his intellectual attainments,

preached in the Unitarian church in Mercer Street. In subsequent years

his sermons were published and I understand are still read with much

interest and pleasure. Archbishop John Hughes, whom I knew quite well,

was the controlling power in the Roman Catholic Church. He possessed the

affectionate regard of the whole community, and naturally commanded a

wide influence. A Roman Catholic told me many years ago that, upon one

of the visits of the Archbishop to St. Peter's church, he took the

congregation to task for their exclusiveness, exclaiming: "You lock up

your pews and exclude the marrow of the land."

I knew very well the Rev. Charles Constantine Pise, the first

native-born Catholic to officiate in St. Joseph's church on Sixth

Avenue. He was of Italian parentage and was remarkable for his great

physical attractiveness. In addition to his fine appearance, he was

exceedingly social in his tastes and was consequently a highly agreeable

guest. He cultivated the muses to a modest degree, and I have several of

his poetical effusions, one of which was addressed to me. In spite of

the admiration he commanded from both men and women, irrespective of

creed, life seemed to present to him but few allurements. Archbishop

Hughes sent him to a small Long Island parish where, after laboring long

and earnestly, he closed his earthly career. An anecdote is related of

this pious man which I believe to be true. A young woman quite forgetful

of the proprieties and conventionalties of life, but with decided

matrimonial proclivities, made Father Pise an offer of her fortune,

heart and hand. In a dignified manner he advised her to give her heart

to God, her money to the poor, and her hand to the man who asked for it.

Prior to his rectorship of St. Joseph's church in New York, Father Pise,

who was an intimate friend of Henry Clay, served as Chaplain of the U.S.

Senate during a portion of the 22d Congress. At the National Capital as

well as in New York he was exceptionally popular, making many converts,

especially among young women, and preaching to congregations in churches

so densely crowded that it was difficult to obtain even standing room.

I cannot pass the Roman Catholic clergy without some reference to the

Rev. Felix Varela, a priest of Spanish descent and, it is said, of noble

birth, who was sent from Cuba to Spain as one of the deputies to the

Cortes from his native island. His church was St. Peter's in Barclay

Street. It would be difficult for any words to do justice to his life of

self-abnegation or to his adherence to the precepts of his Divine

Master. It is with pleasure, therefore, that I relate the following

story, for the truth of which I can vouch. A policeman found a handsome

pair of silver candlesticks in the custody of a poor unfortunate man,

and as they bore upon them a distinctive coat of arms he arrested him.

On his way to prison the suspected criminal begged to see Father Varela

for a moment, and as his residence was _en route_ to the station house

the officer granted his request. This good priest informed the policeman

with much reluctance that the candlesticks had formerly belonged to

him, and that he had given them to his prisoner to buy bread for his

family. My father was so deeply in sympathy with the life and character

of this priest that, although of a different faith, he seldom heard his

name mentioned without an expression of admiration for his life and

character.

There was a French Protestant church in Franklin Street ministered to by

the Rev. Dr. Antoine Verren, whose wife was a daughter of Thomas

Hammersley. I also remember very well a Presbyterian church on Laight

Street, opposite St. John's Park, the rector of which was the Rev. Dr.

Samuel H. Cox, an uncle of the late Bishop Arthur Cleveland Cox of the

Episcopal Church. Dr. Cox was a prominent abolitionist, and when we were

living on Hubert Street, just around the corner, this church was stoned

by a mob because the rector had expressed his anti-slavery views too

freely.

The mode of conducting funerals in former days in New York differed very

materially from the customs now in vogue. While the coffins of the

well-to-do were made entirely of mahogany and without handles, I have

always understood that persons of the Hebrew faith buried their dead in

pine coffins, as they believed this wood to be more durable.

Pall-bearers wore white linen scarfs three yards long with a rosette of

the same material fastened on one shoulder, which, together with a pair

of black gloves, was always presented by the family. It was originally

the intention that the linen scarf should be used after the funeral for

making a shirt. Funerals from churches were not as customary as at the

present time. If the body was to be interred within the city limits

every one attending the services, including the family, walked to the

cemetery. It was unusual for a woman to be seen at a funeral.

But the whole social tone of New York society was more _de rigueur_ than

now. Sometimes, for example, persons living under a cloud of

insufficient magnitude to place them behind prison bars, feeling their

disgrace, took flight for Texas. Instead of placing the conventional

_P.P.C._ on their cards the letters _G.T.T._ were used, meaning that the

self-expatriated ne'er-do-well had "gone to Texas." I have always

understood that in Great Britain the transgressor sought the Continent,

where he was often enabled to pass into oblivion. In this manner both

countries were relieved of patriots who "left their country for their

country's good." As an example, I remember hearing in my early life of

an Englishman named de Roos, who had the unfortunate habit of arranging

cards to suit his own fancy. When his _confrères_ finally caught him in

the act he left hurriedly for the Continent.

In 1842 the U.S. sloop of war _Somers_ arrived in New York, and the

country was startled by the accounts of what has since been known as the

"Somers Mutiny." The Captain of the ship was Commander Alexander Slidell

Mackenzie, whose original surname was Slidell. He was a brother of the

Hon. John Slidell, at one time U.S. Senator from Louisiana, who, during

the Civil War, while on his passage to England on the _Trent_ as a

representative of the Southern Confederacy in England, was captured by

Captain Charles Wilkes of the U.S. Navy. The result of the alleged

mutiny was the execution, by hanging at the yard arm, of Philip Spencer,

a son of the celebrated New York lawyer, John C. Spencer, President

Tyler's Secretary of War, and of two sailors, Samuel Cromwell and Elisha

Small. It was charged that they had conspired to capture the ship and

set adrift or murder her officers. Being far from any home port, and

uncertain of the extent to which the spirit of disaffection had

permeated the crew, Mackenzie consulted the officers of his ship as to

the proper course for him to pursue. In accordance with their advice,

and after only a preliminary examination of witnesses and no formal

trial with testimony for the defense, they were, as just stated,

summarily executed.

I speak from the point of view of the legal element of New York, as my

father's associates were nearly all professional men. The world was

aghast upon receiving the news that three men had been hurled into

eternity without judge or jury. Spencer was a lad of less than nineteen

and a midshipman. Although Captain Mackenzie's action was sustained by

the court of inquiry, which was convened in his case, as well as by the

_esprit de corps_ of the Navy, public feeling ran so high that a court

martial was ordered. His trial of two months' duration took place at the

Brooklyn Navy Yard, and resulted in a verdict of "not proven." The

judge-advocate of the court was Mr. William H. Norris of Baltimore, and

Mackenzie was defended by Mr. George Griffith and Mr. John Duer, the

latter of whom was the distinguished New York jurist and the uncle of

Captain Mackenzie's wife. At the request of the Hon. John C. Spencer,

Benjamin F. Butler and Charles O'Conor, leaders of the New York bar,

formally applied for permission to ask questions approved by the court

and to offer testimony, but the request was refused--"so that," as

Thomas H. Benton expressed it, "at the long _post mortem_ trial which

was given to the boy after his death, the father was not allowed to ask

one question in favor of his son." After a lapse of sixty-nine years,

judging from Mackenzie's report to the Navy Department, it almost seems

as if he possessed a touch of mediæval superstition. He speaks of

Spencer giving money and tobacco to the crew, of his being extremely

intimate with them, that he had a strange flashing of the eye, and

finally that he was in the habit of amusing the sailors by making music

with his jaws. Mackenzie in his official report stated that this lad

"had the faculty of throwing his jaw out of joint and by contact of the

bones playing with accuracy and elegance a variety of airs." James

Fenimore Cooper stated it as his opinion, "that such was the obliquity

of intellect shown by Mackenzie in the whole affair, that no analysis

of his motives can be made on any consistent principle of human action;"

and the distinguished statesman, Thomas H. Benton, whose critical and

lengthy review of the whole case would seem to carry conviction to

unprejudiced minds, declared that the three men "died innocent, as

history will tell and show."

The proceedings of the Mackenzie trial were eagerly read by an

interested public. As I remember the testimony given regarding Spencer's

last moments upon earth, Mackenzie announced to the youthful culprit

that he had but ten minutes to live. He fell at once upon his knees and

exclaimed that he was not fit to die, and the Captain replied that he

was aware of the fact, but could not help it. It is recorded that he

read his Bible and Prayer-Book, and that the Captain referred him to the

"penitent thief;" but when he pleaded that his fate would kill his

mother and injure his father, Mackenzie made the inconsiderate reply

that the best and only service he could render his father was to die.

I recall a conversation bearing upon the _Somers_ tragedy which I

overheard between my father and his early friend, Thomas Morris, when

their indignation was boundless. The latter's son, Lieutenant Charles W.

Morris, U.S.N., had made several cruises with the alleged mutineer

Cromwell. Meeting Mackenzie he stated this fact, saying at the same time

that he found him a well-disposed and capable seaman. Mackenzie quickly

responded that "he had a bad eye," and then Lieutenant Morris recalled

that the unfortunate man had a cast in one eye.

A few years after his court-martial Mackenzie fell dead from his horse.

One of the wardroom officers of the _Somers_ was Adrian Déslonde of

Louisiana, whose sister married the Hon. John Slidell, of whom I have

already spoken as Commander Mackenzie's brother.

I seldom hear the name of John Slidell without being reminded of a

witticism which I heard from my mother's lips, the author of which was

Louisa Fairlie, a daughter of Major James Fairlie, who, during the War

of the Revolution, served upon General Steuben's staff. She was, I have

understood, a great belle with a power of repartee which bordered upon

genius. During the youth of John Slidell he attended a dinner at a

prominent New York residence and sat at the table next to Miss Fairlie.

In a tactless manner he made a pointedly unpleasant remark bearing upon

the marriage of her sister Mary to the distinguished actor, Thomas

Apthorpe Cooper, a subject upon which the Fairlie family was somewhat

sensitive. Miss Fairlie regarded Mr. Slidell for only a moment, and then

retorted: "Sir, you have been _dipped_ not _moulded_ into society"--an

incident which, by the way, I heard repeated many years later at a

dinner in China. To appreciate this witticism, one may refer to the New

York directory of 1789, which describes John Slidell, the father of the

Slidell of whom we are speaking, as "soap boiler and chandler, 104

Broadway." Miss Fairlie's pun seems to me to be quite equal to that of

Rufus Choate, who, when a certain Baptist minister described himself as

"a candle of the Lord," remarked, "Then you are a dipped, but I hope not

a wick-ed candle." It is said that upon another occasion, after the

return of Mr. Slidell from a foreign trip, he was asked by Miss Fairlie

whether he had been to Greece. He replied in the negative and asked the

reason for her query. "Oh, nothing," she said, "only it would have been

very natural for you to visit Greece in order to renew early

associations!" Many years thereafter Priscilla Cooper, the wife of

Robert Tyler and the daughter-in-law of President John Tyler, a daughter

of Thomas Apthorpe Cooper and his wife, Mary Fairlie, presided at the

White House during the widowhood of her distinguished father-in-law.

As has already been stated, the father of the Hon. John Slidell was a

chandler, and he conducted his business with such success that in time

he became prominent in mercantile and financial circles, and eventually

was made president of the Mechanics Bank and the Tradesmen's Insurance

Company. His son John, who at first engaged in his father's soap and

tallow business as an apprentice, finally succeeded him, and the

enterprise was continued under the firm name of "John Slidell, Jr. and

Company." The house failed, however, and it is said that this fact,

together with the scandal attending his duel with Stephen Price, manager

of the Park Theater, in which the latter was wounded, were the

controlling factors that led the future Hon. John Slidell to remove his

residence to New Orleans. In this place he became highly celebrated as a

lawyer, and his successful political career is well known. He married

Miss Marie Mathilde Déslonde, a member of a well-known Creole family,

and many persons still living will recall her grace and _savoir faire_

in Washington when her husband represented Louisiana in the United

States Senate. Miss Jane Slidell, a sister of the Hon. John Slidell,

married Commodore Matthew C. Perry, U.S.N., who opened the doors of

Japan to the trade of the world, and whose daughter, Caroline Slidell

Perry, became the wife of the late August Belmont of New York, while

Julia, another of Mr. Slidell's sisters, married the late Rear Admiral

C. R. P. Rodgers, U.S.N.