CHAPTER VI

SOME DISTINGUISHED ACQUAINTANCES

In close proximity to St. John's Park, during my early life on Hubert

Street, there resided a Frenchman named Laurent Salles, and I have a

vivid recollection of a notable marriage which was solemnized in his

mansion. The groom, Lispenard Stewart, married his daughter, Miss Louise

Stephanie Salles, but the young and pretty bride survived her marriage

for only a few years. She left two children, one of whom is Mrs.

Frederick Graham Lee, whom I occasionally see in Washington, where with

her husband she spends her winters.

When playing in St. John's Park in this same neighborhood, I made the

acquaintance of Margaret Tillotson Kemble, one of the young daughters of

William Kemble already mentioned as living on Beach Street, opposite

that Park. Mr. Kemble was the son of Peter Kemble, member of the

prominent firm of "Gouverneur and Kemble," shipping merchants of New

York, which traded with China and other foreign countries. This firm,

the senior members of which were the brothers Nicholas and Isaac

Gouverneur, was bound together by a close family tie, as Mrs. Peter

Kemble was Gertrude Gouverneur, a sister of the two Gouverneur brothers.

My intimacy with Margaret Tillotson Kemble, formed almost from the

cradle, lasted without a break throughout life. She was a second cousin

of my husband and married Charles J. Nourse, a member of the old

Georgetown, D.C., family. The last years of her life were entirely

devoted to good works. Her sister, Mary, married Dr. Frederick D. Lente,

at one time physician to the West Point foundry, at Cold Spring, N.Y.,

and subsequently a distinguished general practitioner in New York and

Saratoga Springs. Ellen Kemble, the other sister, of whom I have already

spoken, never married. She was eminent for her piety, and her whole life

was largely devoted to works of charity.

The Kemble house on Beach Street was always a social center and I think

I can truthfully say it was more than a second home to me. Mrs. William

Kemble, who was Miss Margaret Chatham Seth of Maryland, was a woman of

decided social tastes and a most efficient assistant to her husband in

dispensing hospitality. Gathered around her hearthstone was a large

family of girls and boys who naturally added much brightness to the

household. Mr. Kemble was a well-known patron of art and his house

became the rendezvous for persons of artistic tastes. It was in his

drawing-room that I met William Cullen Bryant; Charles B. King of

Washington, whose portraits are so well known; John Gadsby Chapman, who

painted the "Baptism of Pocahontas," now in the rotunda of the Capitol

at Washington; Asher B. Durand, the celebrated artist; and Mr. Kemble's

brother-in-law, James K. Paulding, who at the time was Secretary of the

Navy under President Martin Van Buren. Mr. Kemble was one of the

founders of the Century Club of New York, a life member of the Academy

of Design, and in 1817, at the age of twenty-one, in conjunction with

his older brother, Gouverneur Kemble, established the West Point

foundry, which for a long period received heavy ordnance contracts from

the United States government. The famous Parrott guns were manufactured

there. Captain Robert P. Parrott, their inventor and an army officer,

married Mary Kemble, a sister of Gouverneur and William Kemble, who in

early life was regarded as a beauty. Mr. William Kemble, apart from his

artistic tastes, owned a number of fine pictures, among which was a

Sappho by a Spanish master. It was given to Mrs. Kemble by the

grandfather of the late Rear Admiral Richard W. Meade, U.S.N. When the

Kemble family left Beach Street and moved to West Twenty-fifth Street

this picture was sold to Gouverneur Kemble for $5,000, and placed in his

extensive picture gallery at Cold Spring.

Mrs. William Kemble was a woman of marked ability and an able

_raconteurse_. Early in life she had been left an orphan and was brought

up by her maternal uncle, Dr. Thomas Tillotson of the Eastern shore of

Maryland, whose wife was Margaret Livingston, a daughter of Judge Robert

R. Livingston and a sister of Chancellor Robert R. Livingston. Another

sister of Mrs. Tillotson was the widow of General Richard Montgomery, of

the Revolutionary War, who fell at the battle of Quebec. The Tillotsons,

Livingstons and Montgomerys all owned fine residences near Hyde Park on

the Hudson; and a close intimacy existed between the Tillotsons and the

Kembles owing to the fact that Mr. Kemble's first cousin, Emily

Gouverneur, married Mrs. Kemble's first cousin, Robert Livingston

Tillotson. William Kemble's younger brother, Richard Frederick, married

Miss Charlotte Morris, daughter of James Morris of Morrisania, N.Y.

The summer home of William Kemble was in a large grove of trees at Cold

Spring and life under its roof was indeed an ideal existence. I was

their constant guest and although it was a simple life it teemed with

beauty and interest. Our days were spent principally out of doors and

the sources of amusement were always near at hand. As all of the Kembles

were experts with the oar, we frequently spent many hours on the Hudson.

Another unfailing source of pleasure was a frequent visit to West Point

to witness the evening parade. As we knew many of the cadets they

frequently crossed the river to take an informal meal or enjoy an hour's

talk on the attractive lawn. Lieutenant Colonel (subsequently General)

William J. Hardee, who for a long time was Commandant of Cadets at West

Point, I knew quite well. Later in his career he was ordered to

Washington, where as a widower he became a social lion, devoting himself

chiefly to Isabella Cass, a daughter of General Lewis Cass. His career

in the Confederate Army is too well known for me to relate. After the

Civil War I never saw him again, as he lived in the South. During one of

my visits at the Kembles General Robert E. Lee was the Superintendent of

the West Point Military Academy, but of him I shall speak hereafter.

Among the cadets whom I recall are Henry Heth of Virginia, an officer

who was subsequently highly esteemed in the Army, and who, at the

breaking out of the Civil War, followed the fortunes of his native state

and became a Major General in the Confederate Army; Innis N. Palmer,

whom I met many years later in Washington when he had attained the rank

of General; and Cadet Daniel M. Beltzhoover of Pennsylvania, a musical

genius, who was a source of great pleasure to us but whose career I have

not followed.

At this period in the history of West Point Cozzen's Hotel was the only

hostelry within the military enclosure. A man named Benny Havens kept a

store in close proximity to the Military Academy, but as it was not upon

government territory no cadet was allowed to enter the premises.

Although liquor was his principal stock in trade he kept other articles

of merchandise, but only as a cover for his unlawful traffic. The cadets

had their weaknesses then as now, and as this shop was "forbidden fruit"

many of them visited his resort under the cover of darkness. If caught

there "after taps," the punishment was dismissal. The following

selections from a dozen verses written by Lieutenant Lucius O'Brien,

U.S.A., and others, which I remember hearing the cadets frequently sing,

were set to the tune of "Wearing of the Green":

Come, fill your glasses, fellows, and stand up in a row,

To singing sentimentally, we're going for to go;

In the army there's sobriety, promotion's very slow,

So we'll sing our reminiscences of Benny Havens, oh!

Oh, Benny Havens, oh!--oh! Benny Havens oh!

So we'll sing our reminiscences of Benny Havens, oh!

* * * * *

Come, fill up to our Generals, God bless the brave heroes,

They're an honor to their country and a terror to her foes;

May they long rest on their laurels and trouble never know,

But live to see a thousand years at Benny Havens, oh!

Here's a health to General Taylor, whose "rough and ready" blow

Struck terror to the _rancheros_ of braggart Mexico;

May his country ne'er forget his deeds, and ne'er forget to show

She holds him worthy of a place at Benny Havens, oh!

To the "veni vidi vici" man, to Scott, the great hero,

Fill up the goblet to the brim, let no one shrinking go;

May life's cares on his honored head fall light as flakes of snow,

And his fair fame be ever great at Benny Havens, oh!

Lieutenant O'Brien died in the winter of 1841 and the following verse to

his memory was fittingly added to his song:

From the courts of death and danger from Tampa's deadly shore,

There comes a wail of manly grief, "O'Brien is no more,"

In the land of sun and flowers his head lies pillowed low,

No more he'll sing "Petite Coquette" or Benny Havens, oh!

Since then numerous other verses have been added, from time to time,

and, for aught I know to the contrary, the composition is still growing.

After the death of General Scott in 1866 the following verse was added:

Another star has faded, we miss its brilliant glow,

For the veteran Scott has ceased to be a soldier here below;

And the country which he honored now feels a heart-felt woe,

As we toast his name in reverence at Benny Havens, oh!

I wish that I could recall more of these lines as some of the prominent

men of the Army were introduced in the most suggestive fashion. Benny

Havens doubtless has been sleeping his last sleep for these many years,

but I am sure that some of these verses are still remembered by many of

the surviving graduates of West Point.

In the vicinity of William Kemble's cottage at Cold Spring was the

permanent home of his older brother, Gouverneur Kemble. For a few years

during his earlier life he served as U.S. Consul at Cadiz, under the

administration of President Monroe. His Cold Spring home was of historic

interest and for many years was the scene of lavish hospitality. General

Scott once remarked that he was "the most perfect gentleman in the

United States." The most distinguished men of the day gathered around

his table, and every Saturday night through the entire year a special

dinner was served at five o'clock--Mr. Kemble despised the habitual

three o'clock dinners of his neighbors--which in time became historic

entertainments. This meal was always served in the picture gallery, an

octagonal room filled with valuable paintings, while breakfast and

luncheon were served in an adjoining room. All of the professors and

many of the officers at West Point, whom Mr. Kemble facetiously termed

"the boys," had a standing invitation to these Saturday evening dinners.

There was an agreement, however, among the younger officers that too

many of them should not partake of his hospitality at the same time, as

his dining table would not accommodate more than thirty guests. How well

I remember these older men, all of whom were officers in the Regular

Army: Professors William H. C. Bartlett, Dennis H. Mahan, the father of

Captain Alfred T. Mahan, U.S.N., Albert E. Church, and Robert W. Weir.

If by any chance Mr. Kemble, or "Uncle Gouv," as he was generally known

to the family connection, was obliged to be absent from home, these

entertainments took place just the same, presided over by his sister,

Mrs. Robert P. Parrott. Indeed, I recall that during a tour of Europe

Mr. Kemble made with ex-President Van Buren these Saturday dinner

parties were continued for at least a year.

Carving was considered a fine art in those days, an accomplishment which

has largely gone out of style since the introduction of dinner _à la

Russe_. A law existed in Putnam County, in which Cold Spring is

situated, which forbade the killing of game during certain months in the

year. When a transgressor of this law succeeded in "laying low" a pair

of pheasants, they were nicknamed "owls"; and I have seen two "owls"

which, under these circumstances, were almost unobtainable, carved in

such a proficient manner by "Uncle Gouv" that, although we numbered over

a score, each person received a "satisfying" piece. His guests were most

appreciative of his hospitality, and I once heard General Scott say that

he would be willing to walk at least ten miles to be present at a dinner

at Gouverneur Kemble's. His wines were always well selected as well as

abundant. I have often known him to have a house party of many guests

who had the privilege of remaining indefinitely if they so desired. The

actress Fanny Kemble and her father, though not related to the New York

family, were guests in his home during one of their visits to America.

She was a great pedestrian, and I recall having a small stream of water

in the vicinity of Cold Spring called to my notice where, during her

rambles, she was known to stop and bathe her feet.

Long before the War of the Revolution, Mr. Kemble's aunt, Margaret

Kemble, married General Thomas Gage, Commander-in-Chief of the British

forces in that conflict, and resided with him in England. While I was

living in Frederick, Maryland, I sent "Uncle Gouv"--he was then an old

man and very appreciative of any attention--a photograph of Whittier's

heroine, Barbara Frietchie. He in turn sent it to Viscount Henry Gage, a

relative of the British General. The English nobleman who was familiar

with the Quaker poet seemed highly pleased to own the picture and

commented favorably upon the firm expression of the mouth and chin of

this celebrated woman.

Army officers were frequently stationed at Cold Spring to inspect the

guns cast at the Kemble foundry. Among these I recall with much pleasure

Major Alfred Mordecai of the Ordnance Corps. He was a highly efficient

officer and previous to the Civil War rendered conspicuous service to

his country. He was a Southerner and at the beginning of the war is said

to have requested the War Department to order him to some duty which did

not involve the killing of his kinsmen. His request was denied and his

resignation followed.

In the midst of the Civil War, after a protracted absence from the

country in China, I arrived in New York, and one of the first items of

news that was told me was that the West Point foundry was casting guns

for the Confederacy. I speedily learned that this rumor was altogether

unfounded. It seems that some time before the beginning of hostilities

the State of Georgia ordered some small rifled cannon from the West

Point foundry with the knowledge and consent of the Chief of the

Ordnance Department, General Alexander B. Dyer. Colonel William J.

Hardee, then Commandant-of-Cadets, was selected to inspect these guns

before delivery; but when they were finished the war-cloud had grown to

such proportions that Robert P. Parrott, the head of the foundry at the

time, Gouverneur Kemble having retired from active business eight or ten

years previously, refused to forward them. They lay at the foundry for

some time, and were afterwards bought by private parties from New York

City and presented to the government, thereby doing active service

against the Confederacy. In his interesting book recently published

entitled "Retrospections of an Active Life," Mr. John Bigelow refers to

this unfortunate rumor. He says: "On the 21st of January, 1861, I met

the venerable Professor Weir, of the West Point Military Academy, in the

cars on our way to New York, when he told me that Colonel Hardee, then

the Commandant-of-Cadets at the Academy, was buying arms for his native

state of Georgia, and that the Kembles, whose iron works were across the

river from West Point at Cold Spring, were filling a large order for

him." I knew Professor Weir very well, and Mr. Bigelow's statement, I

think, is a mistake, as all of the professors at West Point were too

loyal to Mr. Gouverneur Kemble to allow wild rumors engendered by war to

remain uncontradicted.

This seems a fitting place to recall the pleasant friendship I made with

General Robert E. Lee long before he became the Southern chieftain. I

have already stated that when I visited Cold Spring in other days he was

Superintendent of the U.S. Military Academy. He was a constant visitor

at the Kembles, and his imposing presence and genial manner are so well

known as to render a description of them altogether superfluous. Some

years later when I was visiting at the home of General Winfield Scott in

Washington I renewed my pleasing friendship with him. There existed

between these two eminent soldiers a life-long attachment, and when the

Civil War was raging it seemed almost impossible to realize that Scott

and Lee represented opposite political views, as hitherto they had

always seemed to be so completely in accord.

The Cold Spring colony was decidedly sociable, and a dinner party at one

of the many cottages was almost a daily occurrence. Captain and Mrs.

Robert P. Parrott entertained most gracefully, and their residence was

one of the show-places of that locality. I have heard Captain Parrott

facetiously remark that he had "made a loud noise in the world" by the

aid of his guns.

The first time I ever saw Washington Irving, with whom I enjoyed an

extended friendship, was when he was a guest of Gouverneur Kemble. The

intimate social relations existing between these two friends began in

early life, and lasted throughout their careers, having been fostered by

a frequent interchange of visits. In his earlier life Mr. Kemble

inherited from his relative, Nicholas Gouverneur, a fine old estate near

Newark, New Jersey, which bore the name of "Mount Pleasant." Washington

Irving, however, rechristened the place "Cockloft Hall," and in a vein

of mirth dubbed the bachelor-proprietor "The Patroon." Irving described

this retreat in his "Salmagundi," and the characters there depicted

which have been thought by many to be fanciful creations were in reality

Gouverneur Kemble and his many friends. His place was subsequently sold,

but the intimacy between the two men continued, and it has always seemed

to me that there was much pathos connected with their friendship. Both

of them were bachelors and owned homes of more than passing historic

interest on the Hudson. Irving called Kemble's residence at Cold Spring

"Bachelor's Elysium," while to his own he applied the name of "Wolfert's

Roost." In the spring of 1856 in writing to Kemble he said: "I am happy

to learn that your lawn is green. I hope it will long continue so, and

yourself likewise. I shall come up one of these days and have a roll on

it with you"; and Kemble, upon another occasion, in urging Irving to

visit him added as an inducement, "come and we will have a game of

leap-frog." Referring to their last meeting Irving said of Kemble: "That

is my friend of early life--always unchanged, always like a brother, one

of the noblest beings that ever was created. His heart is pure gold."

That was in the summer of 1859, and in the following November Irving

died, at the ripe old age of seventy-six. Constant in life, let us hope

that in death they are not separated, and that in the Silent Land

No morrow's mischief knocks them up.

Let the cynic who spurns the consoling influences of friendship ponder

upon the life-intimacy of these two old men who, throughout the cares

and turmoils of a long and engrossing existence, illustrated so

beautifully the charm of such a benign relationship.

Irving impressed me as having a genial but at the same time a retiring

nature. He was of about the average height and, although quite advanced

in years when I knew him, his hair had not changed color. His manner was

exceeding gentle and, strange to say, with such a remarkable vocabulary

at his command, in society he was exceedingly quiet. In his early life

Irving was engaged to be married to one of his own ethereal kind, but

she passed onward, and among his friends the subject was never broached

as it seemed too sacred to dwell upon. Her name was Matilda Hoffman and

she was a daughter of the celebrated jurist of New York, Judge Josiah

Ogden Hoffman. She died in 1809 in her eighteenth year.

My last meeting with Irving is vividly impressed upon my memory as the

occasion was quite memorable. I was passing the winter in Washington as

the guest of my elder sister, Mrs. Eames, who a few years before had

married Charles Eames, Esq., of the Washington Bar. Irving, who was then

seventy-two years old, was making a brief visit to the Capital and

called to see me. This was in 1855, when William M. Thackeray was on his

second visit to this country and delivering his celebrated lectures upon

"The Four Georges." I had scarcely welcomed Mr. Irving into my sister's

drawing-room when Thackeray was announced, and I introduced the two

famous but totally dissimilar men to each other. Thackeray was a man of

powerful build and a very direct manner, but to my mind was not an

individual to be overpowered by sentiment. I can not remember after the

flight of so many years the nature of the conversation between Irving

and Thackeray apart from the mutual interchange that ordinarily passes

between strangers when casually presented.

Later I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Thackeray quite a number of

times during his sojourn in Washington where he was much lionized in

society. One evening we were all gathered around the family tea table

when he chanced to call and join us in that cup which is said to cheer.

He entered into conversation with much enthusiasm, especially when he

referred to his children. He seemed to have a special admiration for a

young daughter of his, and related many pleasing anecdotes of her

juvenile aptitude. I think he referred to Anne Isabella Thackeray (Lady

Richie), who gave to the public a biographical edition of her father's

famous works. I remember we drifted into a conversation upon a recently

published novel, but the title of the book and its author I do not

recall. At any rate, he was discussing its heroine, who, under some

extraordinary stress of circumstances, was forced to walk many miles in

her stocking-feet to obtain succor, and the whole story was thrilling in

the extreme; whereupon the author of "Vanity Fair" exclaimed, "She was

shoeicidal." Although he was an Englishman, he was not averse to a

pun--even a poor one! I remember asking Mr. Thackeray whether during his

visit to New York he had met Mrs. De Witt Clinton. His response was

characteristic: "Yes, and she is a gay old girl!"

James K. Paulding, the distinguished author who married the sister of

Gouverneur and William Kemble and lived at Hyde Park, farther up the

Hudson, frequently formed one of the pleasant coterie that gathered

around "Uncle Gouv's" board. "The Sage of Lindenwald," as ex-President

Martin Van Buren was frequently called by both friend and foe, also

repeatedly came from his home in Kinderhook to dine with Mr. Kemble, and

these memories call to mind a dinner I attended at "Uncle Gouv's" when

Mr. Van Buren was the principal guest. Although it was many years after

his retirement from the presidential office, the impression he made upon

me was that of a quiet, deliberate old gentleman, who continued to be

well versed in the affairs of state.

A short distance from Cold Spring is Garrison's, where many wealthy New

Yorkers have their country seats. Putnam County, in which both

Garrison's and Cold Spring are located, was once a portion of Philipse

Manor. The house in the "Upper Manor," as this tract of land was called,

was The Grange, but over forty years ago it was burned to the ground. It

was originally built by Captain Frederick Philips about 1800, and was

the scene of much festivity. The Philipses were tories during the

Revolution, and it is said that this property would doubtless have been

confiscated by the government but for the fact that Mary Philips, who

was Captain Frederick Philips' only child, was a minor at the close of

the war in 1783. Mary Philips, whose descendants have spelled the name

with a final _e_, married Samuel Gouverneur, and their eldest son,

Frederick Philipse Gouverneur, dropped the name Gouverneur as a surname

and assumed that of Philipse in order to inherit a large landed estate

of which The Grange was a conspicuous part.

When I first visited Garrison's the Philipse family was living at The

Grange in great elegance. Frederick Philipse was then a bachelor and his

maiden sister, Mary Marston Gouverneur, presided over his establishment.

Another sister, Margaret Philipse Gouverneur, married William Moore, a

son of the beloved physician, Dr. William Moore of New York, a nephew of

President Benjamin Moore of Columbia College and a first cousin of

Clement C. Moore who wrote the oft quoted verses, "'Twas the Night

before Christmas," which have delighted the hearts of American children

for so many decades.

Frederick Philipse subsequently married Catharine Wadsworth Post, a

member of a prominent family of New York. It was while Mr. and Mrs.

Philipse were visiting her relatives that The Grange was destroyed by

fire. Miss Mary Marston Gouverneur had ordered the chimneys cleaned, in

the manner then prevalent, by making a fire in the chimney place on the

first floor, in order to burn out the débris. The flames fortunately

broke out on the top story, thus enabling members of the family to save

many valuable heirlooms in the lower apartments. Among the paintings

rescued and now in the possession of Frederick Philipse's daughters, the

Misses Catharine Wadsworth Philipse and Margaret Gouverneur Philipse of

New York, was the portrait of the pretty Mary Philipse, Washington's

first love. Tradition states she refused his offer of marriage to become

the bride of Roger Morris, an officer in the British Army. It is

generally believed that she was the heroine of Cooper's "Spy;" but she

had then laid aside the belleship of early youth and had become the

intellectual matron of after years. Some of the other portraits rescued

were those of Adolphus Philipse, second son of the first Lord of the

Manor; Philip Philipse, and his wife, Margaret Marston, whose second

husband was the Rev. John Ogilvie, for many years assistant minister of

Trinity Church of New York; Margaret Philipse, younger sister of Mary,

who married Roger Morris; Captain Frederick Philips, by Gilbert Stuart;

Mrs. Samuel Gouverneur; Nathaniel Marston and his wife, Mary Crooke; and

Mrs. Abraham Gouverneur who was the daughter of Jacob Leisler, at one

time the Acting Governor of the Province of New York.

One visit I made to the Philipses at Garrison's is especially fresh in

my memory, as Eleanor Jones Duer, a daughter of President William A.

Duer of Columbia College, who subsequently married George T. Wilson of

Georgia, was their guest at the same time. She was a woman of much

culture and refinement, and in every way a delightful companion. A great

intimacy existed for many years between the Gouverneurs and Philipses of

Garrison's and the Duer family of New York. The Philipses, who at this

time lived very much in the old-fashioned style, were the last of the

old families with which I was familiar to have the cloth removed after

the dessert was served; and in doing this an elegant mahogany table

always kept in a highly polished condition was displayed. Upon it were

placed the fruits, nuts and wine. Another custom in the Philipse family

which, as far as I know, was unique in this country was that of having

four meals a day. Breakfast was served at eight, luncheon at one, dinner

at six and supper at nine o'clock.

During another visit I made at The Grange I had the pleasure of meeting

Mr. and Mrs. Henry Sheaffe Hoyt (Frances Maria Duer), who were house

guests there and who had just returned from an extended European tour.

She was another daughter of President Duer of Columbia College and died

not long ago in Newport, R.I., at a very advanced age. Mrs. John King

Van Rensselaer, a daughter of Mrs. Archibald Gracie King (Elizabeth

Denning Duer), is her niece.

Before leaving the banks of the Hudson River I must speak of my former

associations with Newburgh. From my earliest life we children were in

the habit of making frequent visits to my mother's relatives, the Roe

family, who resided there. We all eagerly looked forward to these trips

up the Hudson which were made upon the old _Thomas Powell_ and later

upon the _Mary Powell_. My mother's relative, Maria Hazard, married

William Roe, one of the most highly respected and prosperous citizens of

Newburgh. They lived in a stately mansion surrounded by several acres

of land in the heart of the city. Mrs. Roe was a remarkable woman. I

knew her only as an elderly matron; but, like women of advanced age in

China, where I spent a number of years of my early married life, she

controlled everyone who came within her "sphere of influence." I

remember, for example, that upon one occasion when I was visiting her,

Thomas Hazard Roe, her elder son, who at the time was over sixty years

of age and a bachelor and who desired to go upon some hunting

expedition, said to her: "Mother, have I your permission to go to the

Adirondacks?" She thought for a few moments and replied: "Well, Hazard,

I think you might go."

About the year 1840 Newburgh was recommended by two of the earliest

prominent homeopathic physicians of New York City, Doctors John F. Gray

and Amos G. Hull, as a locality well-adapted to people affected with

delicate lungs, and upon their advice many families built handsome

residences there. In my early recollection Newburgh had a fine hotel

called the Powelton, which bade fair to become a prominent resort for

New Yorkers. In the zenith of its prosperity, however, it was burned to

the ground and was never rebuilt. I hardly think that anyone will have

the assurance to dispute the healthfulness of this place when I state

that my cousin, Thomas Hazard Roe, of whom I have just spoken, died

there in 1907 after having more than rounded a full century of years. He

was in many ways a remarkable man with a mind well stored with

knowledge, and he retained all of his mental faculties unclouded until

the end of his life. His sister, Mary Elizabeth, the widow of the late

William C. Hasbrouck, a prominent Newburgh lawyer and a few years his

junior, also died quite recently in Newburgh at the age of ninety-seven.

Her son, General Henry C. Hasbrouck, U.S.A., also died but a short time

since, but her daughter, Miss Maria Hasbrouck, whose whole life has been

devoted to her family, still resides in the old homestead. The third

and youngest member of this interesting trio, Miss Emily Maria Roe, is

now living in Newburgh at an advanced age, surrounded by a large

connection and beloved by everyone.

One of the most prominent families in Newburgh in years gone by was that

of Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Powell, from whom the celebrated river boats were

named. Mrs. Powell's maiden name was Mary Ludlow, and she belonged to a

well-known New York family. Her brother, Lieutenant Augustus C. Ludlow,

who was second in command on board the _Chesapeake_, under Captain James

Lawrence of "Don't give up the ship" fame, is buried by the latter's

side in old Trinity church-yard in New York. Mrs. Powell took great

pride and pleasure in the boat named in her honor, the _Mary Powell_,

and I have frequently seen her upon my trips up the Hudson, sitting upon

the deck of her namesake and chatting pleasantly with those around her.

Newburgh was also the home of Andrew Jackson Downing, the author of

"Landscape Gardening," "Cottage Residences," and other similar works. I

received my first knowledge of horticulture from a visit I made to his

beautiful residence, which was surrounded by several acres. It was my

earliest view of nature assisted by art, and to my untutored eye his

lawn was a veritable Paradise. Some years later, when I was visiting the

Scotts in Washington, Mr. Downing called and during our conversation

told me that he had come to the Capital, upon the invitation of the

government, to lay out the Smithsonian grounds. His wife was Miss

Caroline De Wint of Fishkill, New York, a granddaughter of Mrs. Henry

William Smith (Abigail Adams), the only daughter of President John Adams

who reached maturity. After spending some months in Washington, Mr.

Downing was returning to his Newburgh home when the _Henry Clay_, a

Hudson River steamboat upon which he had taken passage, was destroyed

by fire and he perished while attempting to rescue some of the

passengers. This was in 1852.

There are some persons still living who will readily recall, in

connection with social functions, the not uncommon name of Brown. The

particular Brown to whom I refer was the sexton of Grace Episcopal

Church, on the corner of Broadway and Tenth Street, where many of the

_soi-disant crème de la crème_ worshiped. He must have possessed a

christian name, but if so I never heard it for he was only plain Brown,

and Brown he was called. He was born before the days when spurious

genealogical charts are thrust at one, _nolens volens_; but probably

this was lucky for him and the public was spared much that is

uninteresting. In connection with his duties at Grace Church he came in

contact with many fashionable people, and was enabled to add materially

to his rather small income by calling carriages from the doorsteps for

the society folk of the great metropolis. In this and other ways his

pursuits gradually became so varied that in time he might have been

safely classed among the _dilettanti_. The most remarkable feature of

his career, however, was the fact that, in spite of his humble calling,

he became a veritable social dictator, and many an ambitious mother with

a thousand-dollar ball upon her hands (this being about the usual sum

spent upon an evening entertainment at that time), lacked the courage to

embark upon such a venture without first seeking an interview with

Brown. I knew but little about his powers of discrimination, as we as a

family never found his services necessary, but when requested I know he

furnished to these dependent hostesses lists of eligible young men whom

he deemed proficient in the polka and mazurka, the fashionable dances of

the day. Strange as it may appear, I can vouch for the truth of the

statement that many an exclusive hostess was glad to avail herself of

these lists of the accommodating Brown. The dances just mentioned were,

by the way, introduced into this country by Pierro Saracco, an Italian

master who taught me to dance, and who was quite popular in the

fashionable circles of his day. Many years later, when I was residing in

Maryland, he came to Frederick several times a week and gave dancing

lessons to my two older daughters.

Brown was a pleasant, genial, decidedly "hail-fellow-well-met" man, as I

remember him, and was in a way the precursor of Ward McAllister, though

of course on a decidedly more unpretentious plane. One cannot but

express surprise at the consideration with which Brown's _protégés_ were

treated by the _élite_, nor can one deny that the social destinies of

many young men were the direct result of his strenuous efforts. I

remember, for example, one of these who at the time was "a youth to

fortune and to fame unknown," whom Brown took under his sheltering wing

and whose subsequent social career was shaped by him. He is of foreign

birth, with a pleasing exterior and address and, through the

instrumentality of his humble friend who gave him his first start, is

to-day, although advanced in life, one of the most conspicuous

financiers in New York, and occasionally has private audiences with

presidents and other magnates. Moreover, I feel certain that he will

welcome this humble tribute to his benefactor with much delight, as the

halo which now surrounds his brow he owes in a large degree to his early

introduction into the smart set by the sexton of Grace Church. The last

I ever heard of Brown, he visited Europe. After his return from his

well-earned holiday he died and was laid to rest in his own native soil.

Peace to Brown's ashes--his work was well done! It cannot be said of

him, as of many others, that he lived in vain, as he was doubtless the

forerunner of the later and more accomplished leader and dictator of New

York's "Four Hundred."

A poetaster paid him the following facetious tribute:

Oh, glorious Brown, thou medley strange

Of churchyard, ballroom, saint, and sinner,

Flying by morn through fashion's range

And burying mortals after dinner.

Walking one day with invitations,

Passing the next at consecrations,

Tossing the sod at eve on coffins,

With one hand drying tears of orphans,

And one unclasping ballroom carriage,

Or cutting plumcake up for marriage;

Dusting by day the pew and missal,

Sounding by night the ballroom whistle,

Admitted free through fashion's wicket,

And skilled at psalms, at punch, and cricket.

An amusing anecdote is told of Brown's financial _protégé_ whose name I

have withheld. When he was still somewhat uncertain of his social status

he received an invitation to a fancy ball given by a fashionable matron.

This recognition he regarded as a conspicuous social triumph, and in his

desire to do the proper thing he sought William R. Travers--"Bill

Travers," as he was generally called--to ask his advice in regard to the

proper costume for him to wear. The inquiring social aspirant had a head

well-denuded of hair, and Mr. Travers, after a moment's hesitation,

wittingly replied: "Sugarcoat your head and go as a pill!"

Though not a professional wit, Brown was at least capable of making a

pun quite equal to those inflicted upon society by some of his

superiors. As sexton of Grace Church, he officiated at the wedding of

Miss Phoebe Lord, a daughter of Daniel Lord, whose marriage to Henry

Day, a rising young lawyer, was solemnized in this edifice. At the close

of the reception following the marriage ceremony someone laughingly

called upon Brown for a toast. He was equal to the occasion as he

quickly replied: "This is the Lord's Day!"