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SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME 
 
 BY 
 
 JESSIE BENTON FREMONT 
 
 Author of “The Story of the Guard,” Etc. 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 30ST0N 
 
 D. LOTIIROP AND COMPANY 
 
 FRANKLIN AND HAWLEY STREETS 
 
Copyright, 18S7, 
 by 
 
 D. Lothrop & Company. 
 
THE FLOWERS COLLECTION 
 
 7 . 3 
 
 P 9 7 2, 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Mrs. Jessie Benton Fremont . 
 
 • 
 
 
 Frontis. 
 
 The Wedding Ceremony . 
 
 
 
 17 
 
 The Hostess assures the English Officers 
 
 
 53 
 
 General Jackson 
 
 • • 
 
 
 91 
 
 Senator Benton .... 
 
 • • 
 
 • 
 
 . lOI 
 
 General John C. Fremont . 
 
 • • 
 
 • 
 
 iSS 
 
 Tomb of Napoleon . . . 
 
 • • 
 
 • 
 
 . 316 
 
 Louisa, Queen of Denmark 
 
 • • 
 
 • 
 
 • 344 
 
 Elizabeth, Empress of Austria . 
 
 • • 
 
 • 
 
 • 373 
 
 
 
I Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 ■ in 2017 with funding from 
 Duke University Libraries 
 
 https://archive.org/details/souvenirsofmytim01frem 
 
CONTENTS, 
 
 Chap. Page. 
 
 I. 
 
 The Bodisco Wedding 
 
 • 
 
 
 
 7 
 
 II. 
 
 A Virginia Wedding . 
 
 • 
 
 
 
 34 
 
 III. 
 
 Washington in Past Days 
 
 • 
 
 
 
 57 
 
 IV. 
 
 A Royal Visitor 
 
 
 
 
 68 
 
 V. 
 
 Baron von Gerolt 
 
 
 
 
 78 
 
 VI. 
 
 Family Life of the White House 
 
 
 
 88 
 
 VII. 
 
 Mrs. Madison and Mrs. Hamilton 
 
 
 
 1 08 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The Talent in the Napkin 
 
 
 • 
 
 
 I 2 I 
 
 IX. 
 
 “ Westward,” Home . 
 
 • 
 
 • 
 
 
 130 
 
 X. 
 
 Saint Louis .... 
 
 • 
 
 • 
 
 • 
 
 142 
 
 XI. 
 
 Saint Louis [/ continued ) . 
 
 • 
 
 
 • 
 
 161 
 
 XII. 
 
 New Orleans — Panama . 
 
 • 
 
 • 
 
 • 
 
 178 
 
 XIII. 
 
 California .... 
 
 • 
 
 « 
 
 • 
 
 189 
 
 XIV. 
 
 A Queen’s “ Drawing Room.” 
 
 
 
 
 209 
 
 XV. 
 
 Queen Marie-Amelie 
 
 
 
 
 229 
 
 XVI. 
 
 The Queen and the Peasant 
 
 
 
 
 240 
 
 XVII. 
 
 A Military Fete Day in Paris 
 
 
 
 253 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 A Nobleman of the Old Regime 
 
 
 
 271 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Paris 
 
 
 
 
 288 
 
 XX. 
 
 Men, Women and Things . 
 
 . 
 
 
 
 303 
 
 XXL 
 
 American Midshipmen in Paris 
 
 
 
 316 
 
 XXII. 
 
 The Little Princess Thyra 
 
 
 
 
 329 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 A Morning Visit to the Queen of Den- 
 
 
 
 MARK .... 
 
 
 
 
 344 
 
 A Midsumu£& Nicht with Shakespeare 358 
 Salzburg 373 
 
 9 ^ 9 r-, >7 p; 
 
 ty ,W \j B 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 XXV. 
 
SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 {American.) 
 
SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE BODISCO WEDDING. 
 
 OREIGNERS were very “ foreign ” before 
 
 steam made ocean travel swift and common, 
 and the foreigners of the Diplomatic Corps at that 
 date were necessarily a more characteristic body 
 than now, when the ceaseless interchange of mod- 
 ern life has modified and levelled differences of all 
 
 kinds. 
 
 Then too, those same obstacles of travel made 
 it necessary to have men here who could settle a 
 question before it should take bad proportions ; 
 now it is but a day’s work to have questions an- 
 swered by home governments. Sidney Smith said 
 no feud could withstand social intercourse — no 
 
 7 
 
8 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 feud can grow with the rapid intercourse kept up 
 by the ocean telegraph. 
 
 But with the disadvantages of those days disap- 
 pear also much that was large — pompous perhaps 
 — but with its own stamp of importance and orig- 
 inality. 
 
 Russia has invariably been friendly to us. Far 
 back, when we were just entering the society of na- 
 tions, it was an ordeal to go as Minister represent- 
 ing not only a new and unknown Power, but one in 
 the dreaded form of a Republic.. 
 
 Franklin had the only good post, that to Paris, 
 where the local and growing political feeling made 
 a welcoming party for him. 
 
 Quite the most trying was that to England, and 
 this had been given to Mr. Monroe. A stoiy of his 
 early troubles comes back to me as I write of Rus- 
 sian ministers. 
 
 At the first state dinner to which he was asked 
 Mr. Monroe found himself seated at the foot of the 
 table between two representatives from German 
 principalities. 
 
 “James Monroe doesn’t care where he eats his 
 
THE BODISCO WEDDING. 
 
 9 
 
 dinner,” he said, “ but to find the American 
 Minister put at the bottom of the table between 
 two little principalities, no bigger than my farm 
 in Albermarle, made me mad.” So angiy*, that 
 when the first toast “The King ” was given, and 
 all rose to drink it, Mr. Monroe in re-seating him- 
 self put his wine-glass down into the finger-glass — 
 splashing the water. 
 
 This made his German neighbors exchange sar- 
 castic smiles, and he was rapidly getting too angry 
 when the Russian Minister who w'as at the right 
 hand of the presiding Minister of State, rose and 
 offered his toast : — 
 
 A health and welcome to our latest-comer, the 
 President of the United States, General 
 Washington.” 
 
 “ Then I saw clear again,” said Mr. Monroe. 
 “ And when my country and Washington had been 
 honored I rose, and thanked the Russian Minister 
 and offered as mine — 
 
 “ The health and prosperity of our friend, the Em- 
 peror OF Russia.” 
 
 Whether the practised diplomat had seen the 
 
lO 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 splash in the finger-glass and the sneers of the Ger- 
 man ministers, or whether it was part diplomacy 
 and part courtes}', the effect w'as, at once, to secure 
 proper consideration for the Minister from Amer- 
 ica. Points of social obser\^ance are founded on 
 meaning, and this timely graciousness notified “ all 
 concerned” that the United States of America had 
 an existence which could not be ignored. We are 
 too powerful now for such remembrances to have 
 other effect than that of keeping our memor)’ green 
 as to who were friends when friends were needed. 
 
 The Russian minister of my young days was 
 known to every one, and always made a sort of 
 royal progress of his daily drive to the Capitol 
 from his residence in Georgetown. His horses 
 were not fine perhaps, but there were always four of 
 them to the snowy barouche in which he sat, bare- 
 headed half the time from the incessant returning 
 of bows. He was a popular man with all classes, 
 for he was intelligent — really amiable and prefer- 
 ring to give pleasure — and he was said to be rich 
 and was certainly “ showy ” ; a^Hully so we would 
 think to<iay, when no man could go about his daily 
 
THE BODISCO WEDDING. II 
 
 business with that glitter of varnish and brasses and 
 those four prancing long-tailed black horses with- 
 out a cry of “ circus ” following him. But only a 
 few smiled over it then. 
 
 He had found in Georgetown a house large 
 enough to suit him and made it as showy as his 
 other belongings, and his numerous entertainments 
 were the pleasure and talk of the time. 
 
 At Christmas he gave one for children. His two 
 very young nephews being the pretext for a fete 
 none of us had ever seen the like of. 
 
 It was a snowy night, and as there was no gas 
 then, the approach up the hill was marked out by 
 beacon lights flaring in the stormy wind. All the 
 house was illuminated, and an empty square in front 
 had great fires burning, for the coachmen to go to, 
 as in St. Petersburg ; and a strong temporary room 
 of wood and glass, brightly lit and carpeted, had 
 been built out to cover sidewalk and entrance and 
 atone for our wretched out-door system of entrances. 
 
 Once within, fairyland began. The flowers and 
 lights and pretty refreshments we knew, but this 
 great double house, opened to the third floor, with 
 
12 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 everywhere everything children little and big could 
 fancy ! — this we did not know. 
 
 The galleries had been permanently enclosed, 
 curtained, mirrored, carpeted and pictured. Now 
 in two of them were wonderful red and gold swings. 
 Tables were covered with toys, games, picture books 
 and stacks of little satin bags with “ Bon-Bons ” in 
 gilt letters. And these were for us to take home. 
 
 Dolls too ! 
 
 And in the dressing-room whole boxes of little 
 white kid gloves and pretty fans and bolts and 
 bolts of all colors of light ribbons, and such pictur- 
 esquely dressed maids to repair any damages to 
 our hair or dresses. We danced too — but that 
 we did not care for — dancing was only lessons; 
 but this world of toys and sweets and pleasant 
 faces was the real joy. 
 
 Fancy the stir when it was known that this daz- 
 zling personage was to marry the very young daugh- 
 ter of very quiet people in Georgetown. 
 
 In our small world of the school at which I was 
 for two 3’ears in Georgetown this young girl had 
 also made a commotion. 
 
THE BODISCO WEDDING. 
 
 13 
 
 The principal, Miss English, a most cultivated 
 lady of Danish family, had a stalf of twenty-five 
 teachers — each unusually well qualified for her 
 department; and she had much pride in the at- 
 tainments of her scholars, who were daughtei's of 
 important Southern families, of members of the 
 Government and Senators and members of Con- 
 gress and army and navy families. Many a woman 
 who has since had part in large events owes much 
 to this dignified upper-class school and the ladies 
 who so fitly presided over it. 
 
 On the heights of Georgetown were still the fine 
 gardens and homes of old families who were very 
 nice to us — the boarders — and gave us straw- 
 berry parties and rose parties and had pleasure in 
 treating us on our future footing of society equals. 
 Eleonora Calvert — Georgia Washington — Mil- 
 dred Fitzhugh — many Southern names of our 
 history, past, and now, were on the roll of an aver- 
 age of a hundred boarders and as many day-schol- 
 ars, and “ family ” and “ fine manners ” as well as 
 study were important. 
 
 I am afraid I did not study much. Mere book- 
 
14 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 instruction was flat and unprofitable to me after my 
 delightful home-teaching. A congenial spirit used 
 to join me in escaping recitations by taking refuge 
 in the leafy top of a mulberry-tree where she told 
 pranks of her midshipmen brothers to me who had 
 never seen the sea then, nor a ship nor a midship- 
 mite. Annie and I contentedly took our “ depri- 
 vation of recess ” for this enjoyment until a cruel 
 teacher broke us up by looking down from an 
 upper window to see what made so much color and 
 sound in the big treetop. 
 
 Naturally we were in sjTnpath}’ with other idlers 
 and one Ma3’-time a party of us fell below the high 
 standard of the school and carried the election of 
 our candidate on new issues. First because she 
 was beautiful. Then she was a good-natured, gen- 
 erous girl who brought us lots of flowers and fruits, 
 and who could play heartily. 
 
 Imagine then our feelings when this regular elec- 
 tion was calmly set aside “by the principal and all 
 the teachers." Because of the constant, repeated 
 and unconcerned indifference of our May Queen 
 to her studies. 
 
THE BODISCO WEDDING. 
 
 IS 
 
 It was thought well to make her an example 
 and a warning — also, I suppose, to encourage the 
 good girls, for we were told our May Queen should 
 be a girl, “ who had the entire approbation of all the 
 'teachers^ whereupon Miss English produced the 
 blushing, shrinking, really lovely girl who obeyed 
 that, as she obeyed every other order, to be the 
 May Queen. 
 
 Eut we, the commons, rallied on the playground 
 and there in safety let loose our unavailing wrath 
 against our tyrants, and swore loyalty to our Beauty. 
 
 She did not care — but took it all with smiling 
 composure. It would make her father so angry, 
 she said, that he would take her from school ( she 
 was a day scholar ) and so, for awhile anyway, 
 there would be a holiday for her. 
 
 We decided on a mutiny, and organized a head- 
 ache all-round for May-day ; when our large squad 
 was marched off to the Infirmary and heroically ac- 
 cepted our penalty — the tea-cup full of senna-tea 
 ordered and (worse luck ) enforcedlox “ headaches.” 
 We soothed our disturbed stomachs however by the 
 certainty that our keeping away spoiled the f^te. 
 
i6 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 Judge, then, of the pride — the triumph — we felt, 
 when it was announced that Bodisco the Splendid 
 was to marry our candidate ! That he was far past 
 sixty, and she but sixteen was a mere detail — the 
 main fact was that we were endorsed by a higher 
 authority even than “ the principal, and all the 
 teachers.” And when to this came the added fact 
 that I was to be one of the bridesmaids, our triumph 
 was complete. 
 
 Bodisco possessed the whole science of ceremo- 
 nials, and the man7ier of the marriage was of gov- 
 erning importance in his mind. The bridesmaids 
 must be young, to harmonize with the bride. Also 
 they must be names that were known to the public. 
 Then the groomsman must be suited to his dignity 
 (and age), consequently it was April and December 
 all through. 
 
 With this came the vexed question of precedence. 
 The English minister, Henr)' Fox (of the Holland 
 family), was a man who went nowhere unless com- 
 pelled by strict etiquette. His only pursuit was 
 cards. Long since his debts had exiled him from 
 England, and in Moore’s Life of Byron there is a 
 
THE BODISCO WEDDING. 1 9 
 
 letter from Ravenna in which Byron says “ I met 
 yesterday Henry Fox so changed that his oldest 
 creditor could not recognize him.” He was now a 
 withered, cynical, silent, gray little old man. 
 
 Of equal right to a first place was Mr. Buchanan 
 who had been Minister to Russia, and was at pres- 
 ent Senator. 
 
 Bodisco consulted my father among others on 
 this troubling question, “as to whether Russia 
 should give England or America the first position ? ” 
 which was compromised by the happy thought of 
 making both first ; by placing us in couples and not 
 as usual, the bridesmaids by the bride and the 
 groomsmen by the groom, but Mr. Fox with the 
 sister of the bride would be next the groom, while 
 Mr. Buchanan and myself were to be next the 
 bride. 
 
 It was while he was talking of this to my father 
 that for the first time the personality of the bride- 
 groom came clearly to me. Unlimited holiday, 
 cake, fine gowns, a general delightful upsetting of 
 all use and wont of school life had been my only 
 impression. Now, contrasted by my father’s su- 
 
20 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 perb physique — his clean, fair, noble presence, his 
 steady blue eye and firm mouth — the curious ug- 
 liness of Bodisco came out painfully. 
 
 He was a short and stout man with a broad Cal- 
 muck-face, much wrinkled, and furred across by 
 shaggy whiskers which joined into the mustache 
 over a wide mouth with rather projecting teeth ; a 
 shining brown wig curled low over shaggy eye- 
 brovv’s and restless little eyes, while his manner was 
 at variance with all my ideas of dignity. 
 
 Suddenly I had an instinct into another aspect 
 of this gay marriage. 
 
 But it was too busy a time for thinking. The 
 dressmaker, the drill in the management of my 
 first long skirt, the being drilled to the programme 
 of this performance (which we had in written parts 
 and studied as for a play), the getting used to keep 
 awake after nine o’clock, etc., etc., etc., filled all the 
 time. Of course I had been brought home from 
 school and had a thoroughly good time — ever}' 
 minute of it. 
 
 Bodisco had planned our toilet as well as every 
 other detail of the performances. The dresses 
 
THE BODISCO WEDDING. 
 
 21 
 
 were to be very long ; of white “ figured ” satin, with 
 blonde lace about the neck and sleeves ; a high full 
 wreath of soft white roses, a fan of ivory and white 
 feathers, and a great bouquet of white camelias : 
 the most elegant of bouquets then before the poor 
 flowers were lowered by a French pen to one 
 meaning only. 
 
 The imposing “ Mrs. Abbott, Milliner and Man- 
 tua-maker, from London,” herself built my gown. 
 
 When the great day came I seem to have been 
 all morning in the hands of one and another and 
 paraded up and down, delighted with my finery as 
 well I might be, for it was a rich and stately dress ; 
 although the skirt was plaited on full all round from 
 the tip of a long point in front to another long point 
 behind, the stuff cut away to let the long slim waist 
 come well down into the soft fullness below, and 
 although we had sleeves, and to the sleeves a frill of 
 lace falling over the elbows, and a “ tucker ” of lace 
 from the top of the decently-cut low body, and the 
 wreath was not bad either in its effects. 
 
 It was a lovely day in early spring, fortunately, 
 for though it was a wide and roomy house the com- 
 
22 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 pany overflowed into hall and piazzas and the 
 grounds, while out in the road (it was on the heights 
 of Georgetown) the crowd of carriages was swarmed 
 around about by a throng of outsiders. It was like 
 a gay country fair with its cheery moving crowd. 
 
 The President, Mr. Van Buren, was there. All 
 the officials, of all kinds. All the Diplomatic Corps, 
 in full dress — army and navy officers in full uni- 
 form and a crowd of ladies in full morning dress. 
 
 What a dazzle for this quiet family of a clerk 
 whose small salary and many children had kept him 
 from any contact with this phase of life. The bride 
 was of course entirely unknown to the Washington 
 world, and from her youth, hardly outside of her 
 family. Bodisco put back all offered visits, saying 
 she was too young, it was best to wait until she 
 should have him with her to receive in her own 
 house, and it was understood that she was not to 
 be seen until the morning of the marriage. You 
 can fancy the curiosity of the guests. 
 
 V'e, with the bride, were in an upper room wait- 
 ing our signal to descend. The bride was in great 
 glee peeping between the blinds and laughing at 
 
THE BODISCO WEDDING. 
 
 23 
 
 the crowd outside, and it was : “ Girls ! here comes 
 the carriage, see the satin rosettes on the horses ! 
 (the long-tailed prancing blacks) and the big bou- 
 quets on the servants, and Bodisco says I wwr/wear 
 this cloak when we drive off. Hot thing ! and oh, 
 here’s your flowers (the camelias), and here’s a pearl 
 ring apiece from Bodisco, and I am so hungry, but I 
 can’t have anything until we get breakfast at his 
 house.” 
 
 Then the anxious master of ceremonies came up 
 • — paper in hand, reading out our names in order 
 and marshalling us down the narrow back-stairway 
 with many charges as to our precious gowns ( we, 
 now all silent and “ on duty ”) , to the large room 
 where the ceremony was to be performed. Here 
 waited the venerable groomsmen and also Henry 
 Clay who was to give away the bride. 
 
 Then Bodisco, with his paper still in hand, di- 
 rected each couple into proper position. The bride 
 and himself to face the folding-doors. To his left 
 Mr. Fox in scarlet and gold court suit — his rough 
 gray eyebrows frowned over his half-shut eyes and 
 his whole look and attitude a protest — while by him 
 
24 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 was a smiling rosy little blonde of thirteen, sister 
 to the bride. 
 
 To the right of the bride was IMr. Buchanan, tall 
 and of fine presence and quite a type of Sa.\on col- 
 oring and freshness despite his silvered head, and 
 with him, myself — aged fourteen. 
 
 The Chevalier de Martini, Minister from the 
 Hague — not young — large, placid, easy friends 
 with every one, and in a softly-amused state of 
 smiles, had the eldest of the bridesmaids, a girl of 
 si.vteen, the daughter of Commodore Morris."'^ Her 
 pensive beauty was already touched with the hectic 
 flush of the disease which ended her young life 
 soon after — as it had that of an elder sister in 
 whose memory the “Louise Home” was founded. 
 
 Of the eight couples only two were of equal 
 youth ; Smith Van Buren, the President’s youngest 
 son, and Kemble Paulding, also under twenty, 
 whose father w'as Secretary of the Navy, these 
 had been given two pretty cousins of the bride. 
 
 She herself rose above them all — fairest and 
 
 * Many years after at a dinner in New Y'ork, when he was fatnnns — and 
 old — Admiral Farragiit talked to me of that wedoing and of the lovely 
 fading girl who was, he said, the unattained dream of his young time. 
 
THE BODISCO WEDDING. 
 
 25 
 
 tallest. Her dress was fashioned on that of Rus- 
 sian brides and was of rich white satin with much 
 silver lace — soft and flexible as silk lace, but of 
 most rich and luminous effect. On her yellow hair 
 rested a coronet of red velvet covered with dia- 
 monds, and from that fell, over the shoulders, and 
 far down the long train, an exquisite veil of silver 
 lace, light and sparkling as cobwebs on the grass 
 when the first level morning sun lights up the dew- 
 drops on them. Large ear-rings of diamonds trem- 
 bled against her rose-leaf cheeks and shone on her 
 long white throat — she was 
 
 as fair a bride 
 
 As e’er the sun shone on, 
 
 While he — ! 
 
 But he was content. When we were arranged 
 quite to his taste, in a horseshoe curve, the glis- 
 tening white dresses and young faces and flowers 
 thrown into higher relief by the age and court dress 
 of the men, while Bishop Johns in full canonicals, 
 and Mr. Clay tall and dignified, made the con- 
 trasting touch, Bodisco gave a last reviewing 
 
26 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 look, then ordered the doors to be rolled back. 
 Certainly the guests saw a beautiful tableau — 
 whether painful also it was for each one to judge. 
 But of this we had no thought. To go through 
 our parts with ease and dignity, to remain in posi- 
 tion during the ceremonious congratulations and 
 only speak m answer, to group around the bride- 
 cake with its ring, and offer it to those coming to 
 its special flower-dressed table, these were our limit. 
 The next act was the retiring in procession, to de- 
 scend to our carriages. The great wrap of white 
 satin and swansdown had to be worn — it was part 
 of the programme. And we, each with a little “ tip- 
 pet ” the same as our gowns, with a border of swans- 
 down also, passed gravely through the fine company 
 which opened a way for us, bowing in silence in 
 return to salutations, and each couple entered 
 their carriage ; when the procession moved slowly 
 through the crowd down the hill to Mr. Bodisco’s 
 house, where, at last, we were allowed to be natu- 
 ral. For Bodisco was a most kind, amiable man 
 and the bald old house-steward Dona understood 
 young people. 
 
THE BODISCO WEDDING. 
 
 27 
 
 We were in “ for a full clue ” — a whole day of 
 it. The wedding breakfast was only a part. A 
 great dinner of forty persons was to follow our 
 matinee. We bridesmaids were not let to go home ; 
 it was not safe to disband the young troupe until 
 the evening performance was over. 
 
 Our venerable escorts retired after the breakfast, 
 while we were given the range of one floor to our- 
 selves with all manner of picture books and games 
 laid out, but the excitement, the heavy dress and 
 the wrong hours we had been keeping made of us 
 a sorry little company. A kind aunt of the bride 
 knew what was best for us and soon, with our wreaths 
 laid away and loose, short gowns over our finery, 
 we were carefully disposed upon sofas, and slept 
 over into freshened color and spirits. 
 
 A great feast was not new to me, but this was 
 my first unaided appearance as a chief actor, and in 
 place of my proper muslin and sash I Avas in grown- 
 up finery and one does act up to their dress. I 
 never, in any country, have seen such really ele- 
 gant as well as thoroughly splendid dinners as those 
 given to my father in New Orleans by his friends 
 
28 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 and clients among the wealthy planters. In their 
 vexatious business visits to Washington we were 
 often their “ little interpreters,” and when back at 
 home they insisted on including us in their hospi- 
 talities. Just lately, too, j\Ir. Van Buren had given 
 a dinner to his son. Smith, but this was a very 
 young people’s dinner, and to me the President’s 
 house was old familiar ground. 
 
 There had been so much said of this marriage 
 that it seemed as though all must be different. But 
 except the queerly disproportioned ages of part of 
 the company, it was like other great dinners. 
 Longer then than would be endured now — and 
 with great stateliness. Sitting facing the bride and 
 bridegroom I was directly under our manager’s eye 
 and acquitted myself so much to his liking that he 
 asked I might come frequently to spend a Saturday 
 with the bride. 
 
 This was not to be, however — the tremendous 
 sick-headache following all this upsetting of a sim- 
 ple life made the decision that I was to be returned 
 to that way of living after one more dinner, that 
 given by the President, Here again Bodisco pre- 
 
THE BODISCO WEDDING. 
 
 29 
 
 pared his tableau. He gave us our directions in 
 the dressing-room, and our little procession crossed 
 that windy hall into the drawing-room. Mr. Van 
 Buren had it, later, somewhat protected by the glass 
 screens that now extend across, but many a cold 
 was taken there after wraps were laid aside. 
 
 We were grouped either side of the bride, our 
 bright white dresses serving as margin and setting 
 to the central figure. This night her dress was of 
 pale green velvet, its long train having a border 
 of embroidery in gold thread not brighter than her 
 yellow hair, and pearls and emeralds were her 
 ornaments. 
 
 Mr. Van Buren had great tact and knew how to 
 make each one show to advantage. He was also 
 very witty, though he controlled this, knowing its 
 danger to a man in public life. But it was all there. 
 
 He had been Minister to England and the silver 
 gilt dessert service he got there he had brought to 
 the White House. In the speeches made against 
 him at the election in which he was defeated by 
 General Harrison, his opponents alwa3rs made a 
 contrast between the “ log-cabin life of the old sol- 
 
30 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 dier”and the “effeminate” life of Mr. Van Buren. 
 The most telling of these speakers was a Mr. Ogle, 
 who made a great point of the “ gold spoons.” He 
 had been one of Mr. Van Buren’s most frequent 
 guests. Mr. Van Buren was asked if Ogle was 
 right about those “ gold spoons.” “ He ought to 
 know,” was his answer, “he has often had them in 
 his mouth.” 
 
 With such a host, in such a house, the dinner and 
 the invited reception that followed had to be beau- 
 tiful and a success. That old mirror-plateau has 
 never reflected such an odd company — and it has 
 seen much. 
 
 “ Little pitchers have large ears.” We had heard, 
 and made afterwards our own comments on, a speech 
 made by a lady near us during the cake-cutting. 
 
 “ Now i/iis is a good match. The first since Mrs. 
 Calvert drove away from St. John’s Church in her 
 carriage and four — the Washington girls have been 
 marrying poor army and navy officers and turning 
 into dowdies instead of keeping their place in the 
 world and having a handsome house to receive 
 their friends in.” 
 
THE BODISCO WEDDING. 
 
 31 
 
 Some of those “ poor army and navy men ” have 
 since been of such large use to their country that 
 the girls who decided for “Jock o’ Hazledean” 
 rather think they got all. 
 
 But this marriage of Bodisco’s was a happy one 
 to him and evidently of contentment to her. Much 
 of the frothiness of his ways was dropped and he 
 came into a new condition of esteem as his good 
 domestic side proved itself. An occasional visit 
 to Russia, where she was very well received, their 
 children, the usual life of society in which she took 
 her part amiably and well, carried them over the 
 next ten or twelve years, when he died. 
 
 From the date of his marriage he had made all 
 her family his. Giving sound training to the young 
 ones, providing for all, and in every way gaining 
 for himself the respect of many who had thought it 
 a risky marriage. In his will, he hoped she would 
 marry again and be as happy as she had made 
 him. 
 
 She married an English officer and has lived 
 chiefly in India, and I am told preserves much of 
 her unusual beauty notwithstanding great stoutness. 
 
32 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MV TIME. 
 
 Bodisco alwa3-s kept a verj' kind feeling for me and 
 was greatly pleased with every success that came 
 to me — most, when I was '^restored to Washington 
 Society ” by being in the Senate. Official position 
 had come to mean a great deal to him — it was in 
 his mind the “ guinea’s stamp.” 
 
 Many of us who had made part of the marriage 
 were again gathered in the large hospitable house 
 for the funeral of its head. 
 
 Through misplaced family feeling their clergj-- 
 man had been asked to make “ an address ” wliich 
 proved narrow and one-sided, though well-meaning. 
 
 He deplored the “errors” of the creed in which 
 the departed had been trained, but “trusted his 
 closing years had surrounded him with such im- 
 proving influences that we might yet hope,” etc. 
 
 Near me was standing that clever, practised 
 writer and man of tact and society usage, ^Ir. Sea- 
 ton. We exchanged looks as this almost unkind 
 talk rolled on and on. 
 
 But when the clergr-man repeated : “ And if our 
 departed brother’s spirit could look down on us 
 now he would say ” — 
 
THE BODISCO WEDDING. 
 
 33 
 
 Mr. Seaton whispered — “ He would say, ‘ IVhat 
 a bad-manage-cereniony' ” 
 
 What might have been said was what we all 
 knew and felt, that there was a man who had filled 
 the law of kindness to his family, and who had 
 made himself the careful and wise head of the 
 whole family of his young wife — whose life of cer- 
 emonies and show had not changed the real good- 
 ness of a nature, which in this later light won many 
 friends for him. And many who had had their jest 
 at the marriage had now only a sincere prayer for 
 the good old Russian minister. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 A VIRGINIA WEDDING. 
 
 ' I ''HE rejoicings of the triumphant party were 
 yet in the air when their plans were ov’er- 
 thrown by the death of the President, General Har- 
 rison. His inauguration was followed, in just one 
 month, by his funeral. He was the first who had 
 died whilst President, and the state funeral was one 
 of much solemnity. And the leaders of the Whig 
 party were real mourners, for after twelve years’ ex- 
 clusion from power, suddenly, in the first moments 
 of restored power, they found themselves thrown 
 into, at best, uncertainties. It was hard on such 
 men as Clay and Webster, to whom added years 
 would take away much of energ}-, even of interest 
 in public life. “ It is only four years to wait,” 
 might be to them as Mrs. Livingston of Louisiana 
 had answered my mother once ; “ At my age four 
 
 34 
 
A VIRGINIA WEDDING. 
 
 35 
 
 years is too long to wait for vahn-jarce or joos- 
 teece.” 
 
 But it was no day of mourning for some of us 
 younger ones. Our grandmother had been with us 
 all winter — intensely interested in the inner work- 
 ings of national government. For her the war for 
 independence and the War of 1812 were near per- 
 sonal memories ; and her simple sincere patriotism, 
 and interest in all measures belonging with “the 
 welfare of my country,” made the whole winter de- 
 lightful. The inauguration had been an occasion 
 of profound interest ; now came this startling re- 
 minder of the common lot. When we were offered 
 a house on the Avenue from where she could see 
 comfortably all the procession, my unconscious 
 grandmother accepted with great pleasure ; little 
 guessing she was a marplot and an agent of des- 
 tiny. 
 
 Here let me remind you of a story in the Arabian 
 Nights of which I remember only the outline, and 
 its intention as a lesson in the folly of attempting 
 to resist “ what is written ” (in the Book of Destiny). 
 It is that of a Prince whose fate as foretold by the 
 
36 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 astrologers was to be bright beyond compare should 
 he survive his twenty-first birthday ; about which 
 time a deadly peril was to come to him. To avert 
 this the King has the Prince taken, as he nears 
 the dangerous age, to an island. His dwelling- 
 place there is further made safe by being under- 
 ground, with a concealed entrance, leading b)’ many 
 marble steps through richly-hung subterranean pas- 
 sages, lit by the usual silver, gold and alabaster 
 lamps filled with perfumed oil, to enchanting rooms 
 where everything you please ministered to his plea- 
 sures, and wise men watched over him. How his 
 health withstood want of sun and open air, and 
 what was done for ventilation and drainage, does 
 not enter into the story. But there the Prince re- 
 mains in safety and happiness until the fatal birth- 
 day, when he met with some trifling accident from 
 which he died ; as was written." 
 
 The Government had rented a house near the 
 foot of Capitol Hill for the making up of the large 
 maps of the geographical survey of the sources of 
 the Mississippi. A French geographer and savant, 
 Mr. Nicollet, had been the head of this survey, and 
 
A VIRGINIA WEDDING. 
 
 37 
 
 to him had been assigned an engineer officer who 
 knew French. Their three years’ work was being 
 made up here, and it was in one of these large rooms 
 we were to wait, and from its windows see the long 
 funeral procession as it approached up the Avenue 
 and ascended the Capitol Hill. 
 
 The working tables had been carried up to an- 
 other floor (lots of trouble that) and this best room 
 made charming by many flowers and plants in pots. 
 A cheerful woodfire made a good contrast to the 
 chill gray day, and there was a pretty tea-table with 
 cakes and ices and bonbons. It was for my grand- 
 mother’s special pleasure we were there, and only 
 a few of our friends had been added. These wise 
 elders were troubled that their young host should 
 have made such graceful preparations for them — 
 expensive to “ a poor army man ” — but this was 
 one of the unforeseen chances for meeting which 
 parental wisdom had decreed must be seldom, 
 and so who can blame the happy extravagance of 
 the lucky Lieutenant ? Outside in the raw cold of 
 early spring was the heavy tramp of a great crowd, 
 and the wailing of funeral marches; within, our 
 
38 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 friendly group excited and amused (and two en- 
 tirely content). A good army surgeon had given 
 “ sick-leave ” for the day to the young officer 
 who was but too happy to be of every service to 
 his guests. No servant was good enough to mini- 
 ster to them — himself brought in the logs and 
 kept up the blazing fire (regardless of his best uni- 
 form). The tea or the ices he brought to each 
 himself : how much freezing, how much star\’ing, 
 what unceasing dangers by night and by day he 
 was so soon to meet, and how interwoven his life 
 was to be with ours, we could not see then ; but, 
 as the Orientals put it, “ it was writie?!.’' 
 
 The next day all the geraniums and roses were 
 sent to my mother. This was growing dangerous. 
 Therefore, suddenly, a survey of the Des Moines 
 River was found necessary, and for that little work, 
 our young host was detached from his important 
 duty of finishing their Mississippi sur\'eys and 
 ordered to Iowa. 
 
 Soon, we also left Washington to go into Vir- 
 ginia for a marriage that was to assemble the fam- 
 ily connection. In the heart of the Blue Ridge 
 
A VIRGINIA WEDDING. 
 
 39 
 
 near the Natural Bridge, is the picturesque moun- 
 tain town of Lexington ; beautiful from its scenery 
 and refined by being a centre of education. Here 
 is the university endowed by Washington, known 
 of late as the “Washington and Lee University ; ” 
 the “ Anne Smith Academy,” founded and endowed 
 at the same early date by a lady of wealth, 
 where came the daughters of good families with 
 their waiting maids and riding horses; where they 
 learned a little Latin, and much Italian, including 
 the compact, clear Italian handwriting; and im- 
 possible French. This with much English history 
 and poetry, the care of their complexions and hands, 
 and a disproportionate amount of society, seemed 
 to constitute the course. From which they came 
 out none the worse to be admirable mothers and 
 managers of large households, and ready for all the 
 serious work of life. 
 
 There also was the State Military Institute, of 
 which for a long while Stonewall Jackson was head. 
 These, with the many buildings for residency of 
 Presidents, Professors, etc., etc., crowned the long 
 ridge of College Hill, back of which was the mas- 
 
40 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 sive height of the level-topped House Mountain. 
 Here the Blue Ridge encircles the hilly valley in 
 which lies the town. Country houses were on all 
 the detached hills. The most simple drive required 
 wheels to be locked and a “ baulking-horse ” was 
 counted on ; it was all lovely to look at, but dan- 
 gerous to drive about, and places w'ere too far apart 
 for walking. But there was much and very pleas- 
 ant society, for this centre of education had attracted 
 men of cultivated tastes. The original settlement 
 had been largely Scotch, which was a benefit in 
 various ways ; for learning, for upright, pugnacious 
 principle, for real hospitality — and for that good 
 cookery which Scotland owed to its friendly alli- 
 ance with France. 
 
 In colonial times the English government paid 
 but little money to the younger officers, giving them 
 instead “ militar}' grants of wild lands.” My grand- 
 father, “ the old colonel,” had in this way inherited 
 from his father, a lieutenant-colonel in a Scotch 
 regiment, not only the great estate near Lexington 
 where he was born and died, but “ wild lands ” in 
 the West, some of which he exchanged for bodies 
 
A VIRGINIA WEDDING. 
 
 41 
 
 of grazing lands near him in Virginia. One tract 
 so exchanged is the southern portion of the city of 
 Cincinnati. 
 
 We were many when the wedding guests gath- 
 ered. Travelling in. their own carriages with chil- 
 dren and nurses and maids, came aunts who were 
 to go on afterwards to their cottages at the White 
 Sulphur Springs. Some from Richmond, some 
 from Abingdon where the salt works were an item 
 of family properties ; a delicate girl and her watch- 
 ful anxious brother, represented our “ family Mecca ” 
 at Smithfield where their English habits were still 
 maintained ; where on the death of the head of the 
 family the widow at once moved into the Dower- 
 House, a separate but communicating complete es- 
 tablishment, leaving the chief hou.se to the elder 
 son. The brother now here was afterwards Sec- 
 retary of the Navy under Mr. Buchanan ; later not 
 only themselves, but noble old properties were given 
 by these families to their “ cause.” From his church 
 in Baltimore came the fiery, eloquent Robert Breck- 
 enridge ; himself a near kinsman, but still more 
 closely connected by marriage ; a man of sponta- 
 
42 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 neous wit and freshness. The aunt from Richmond 
 was his equal in mind, and justified her descent 
 from Patrick Henry, while my Uncle McDowell was 
 held to be the most graceful scholar in Virginia. 
 They were all very handsome also and attached 
 great value to looks. We young ones were put 
 through the ordeal of examination, comparison and 
 criticism at family meetings — quite as though we 
 were models and had no sensitiveness our elders 
 should respect. All the consideration then was from 
 the young to the old : ?ioiis avous change tout fela. 
 
 I was thought very like a favorite cousin w'hose 
 husband as well as herself died young, leaving two 
 orphan children. In this very healthy, verj' pros- 
 perous, very handsome connection, sorrow or death 
 seemed to need apology. There was clearly apol- 
 ogy, as well as tenderness, in the “ poor Eliza ” and 
 “ poor Charles.” I was used to these comments 
 and hardened to their invariable “ her nose is not 
 nearly so delicate as poor Eliza’s,” but they were 
 shared now by her son — a charming lad of eigh- 
 teen, in all the enjoyment and importance of his 
 first vacation from West Point. We singularly 
 
A VIRGINIA WEDDING. 
 
 43 
 
 alike, but we grew tired of being stood side by side 
 and freshly commented on by more cousins and 
 more friends who kept up perpetual visiting. 
 
 A young groomsman who had come with the 
 bridegroom, the cadet, myself, and a cousin about 
 twenty, the eldest son of the house, used to escape 
 when we could — “anywhere, anywhere out of that 
 world.” 
 
 Once a rainy day threw us on our invention. 
 The grown people had the library : a lovely blue- 
 eyed girl had captivated the best match in the fam- 
 ily who was just back from his four years’ “ grand 
 tour ” in Europe, and we were not wanted in the 
 drawing-room where she and our pale cousin Jane 
 had the piano and the repose they preferred. So 
 we made off to the great upper room which ex- 
 tended over the whole main building and rummaged 
 the many closets and chests there ; finding amuse- 
 ment in costuming ourselves in old uniforms and 
 gowns. The cadet mourned that his youth and 
 slimness made these veteran suits impossible, while 
 an older and larger cousin got himself up in blue 
 and buff. I ventured (knowing myself to be a fav* 
 
44 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 orite) to put on my beautiful aunt’s wedding dress, 
 which had been chosen by her brother, William 
 Preston of South Carolina, when he was in Paris 
 at the time Wellington held it for the allies. It 
 was of blonde over satin ; strict Empire in cut — the 
 waist up to the arms and not a gather in the close- 
 gored very short skirt except just behind where a 
 huge satin bow and wide ends fastened the narrow 
 belt. Our dignified elders found many memories 
 revived by the sight of the old costumes and dis- 
 covered more points of likeness between myself 
 and “ poor Eliza,” and her son had additional ten- 
 derness given him as they talked of his young 
 mother. My light-hearted young cousin had been 
 every one’s pet — he was not to know the other 
 side of life. 
 
 Although we were so many that at morning 
 prayers we would overflow from the library into the 
 hall, yet I remember only the usual quiet order and 
 and large completeness of living. Nothing betrayed 
 trouble or even preparation. All that went on un- 
 seen to the guests to whom was paid the compli- 
 ment that they gave only pleasure by their pres- 
 
A VIRGINIA WEDDING. 
 
 45 
 
 ence. A woman who would let escape any fact of 
 fatigue or disturbance would have been seriously 
 talked against, both for want of capacity and lack 
 of good breeding. 
 
 When my aunt made her morning visit to the 
 large rooms devoted to store-room and housekeep- 
 ing she remained longer than usual in consultation 
 with her right hand, “ aunt Melinda,” a grave cap- 
 able mulatto woman. All that was taken from the 
 many barrels and boxes was entered in a book, and 
 the provisioning of this family garrison planned 
 well ahead with the forethought and exactness of 
 a military establishment. It was really good house- 
 keeping. ■ There v/as a large working force under 
 well-drilled serv^ants, and in Virginia this manage- 
 ment of a household was as much a branch of edu- 
 cation as it had been in England in Addison’s time. 
 And there was all the old-time profusion and re- 
 lays of luxuries. It was not the custom to travel 
 away immediately after the ceremony. 
 
 The marriage took place in the bride’s own home 
 with only her own people and nearest friends pres- 
 ent, and in her own home she remained while family 
 
46 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 friends did honor to her in her new dignity at their 
 welcoming homes. It was quite a point that some- 
 thing made by the hands of near friends should 
 enter into the bride’s new fittings — these were mar- 
 vels of delicate needlework. I know of a Southern 
 girl, orphaned and impoverished by the war, who, 
 living in New York, received from Mobile on the 
 eve of her marriage a box containing everj’thing 
 she should wear on that occasion : fine linens and 
 cambrics and muslins and lace, all the gift and 
 handiwork of old servants — slaves — who had 
 their feeling that their young mistress must not be 
 married in “ paid-for ” sewing. And the girl had 
 the sweetness to wear the toilette so kindly sent 
 although good friends had provided the usual out- 
 fit. 
 
 Another customary attention was a delicate and 
 decorated “ bride-cake.” Until I was among Chi- 
 nese cooks on the Pacific Coast I never saw any- 
 thing to surpass these in patient, skilful ornamen- 
 tation. One came bedded in a great v.'reath of ivy 
 and geranium leaves, made of the candied rind of 
 watermelon, most artistically cut. This was from 
 
A VIRGINIA WEDDING. 
 
 47 
 
 a lady who to-day would be called an aesthete 
 (there is nothing new under the sun, only changes 
 of name) ; all her arrangements were most fanciful, 
 exquisite and dainty. 
 
 The whole countryside “ entertained ” the bride. 
 Evening parties or dinners, where numbers did 
 not seem to tell. All was dignified and orderly and 
 most hospitable. We must have been more than 
 thirty at one place — one of the oldest and most 
 stately of the neighborhood ; for the married daugh- 
 ters were visiting their home; — beautiful “dash- 
 ing ” women with the added brilliancy of a larger 
 outside life. The general tone of the neighbor- 
 hood was staid and scholarly, and being so largely 
 Scotch, presbyterianly serious. Great decorum 
 and reverence of manner prevailed in the one 
 church, which stood in the midst of its large grave- 
 yard. At one end of this were sheds and hitching 
 posts, and the horse-blocks on which pretty girls 
 lingered as they unpinned the plaid cloaks that 
 answered for ridmg-skirts, and shook out their fresh 
 dresses, while steady old horses were having lifted 
 down from them the children before and the boy 
 
48 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 behind who wedged in the mother on the saddle. 
 There were country carryalls, and fine carriages (of 
 any date) from London, and some few stylish mod- 
 ern equipages. All came in good time to settle 
 down before the bell ceased tolling and before “ the 
 minister ” appeared. 
 
 But often after that would come a dash and 
 clatter and the four-horse barouche of old Colonel 
 Bowyer would swing up to the side entrance, the 
 beautiful daughters come smiling in to their double 
 side pew the young men following in fair-top boots 
 and whip in hand, while their dogs crouched, close 
 as they dared, on the sunny doorstep. What healthily 
 beautiful women these were ! A high-necked dress 
 was not known until about 1840. All dresses were 
 cut low and supplemented by capes. This family 
 was just then wearing mourning and the dazzling 
 white of their throats and the tips of shoulders if 
 the black gauze cape slipped was something 
 to see. They had too much vitality and the newer 
 w'ays were too congenial for them to remain up to 
 the highest standard of dignity, but they had 
 enough, and their mother was its very model. 
 
A VIRGINIA WEDDING. 
 
 49 
 
 Theirs was a stately place with beautifully adorned 
 grounds. The long avenue opened on lawn and 
 gardens bordered with squared old box hedges, so 
 thick and high that a man on horseback passing 
 them could only be seen from the waist up. The 
 house was in the fashion of Arlington, with the 
 pillared portico and wings, where the great drawing 
 and dining-rooms were either side of the lofty spa- 
 cious hall. 
 
 The size of their great dining-room made us seem 
 an ordinary party though we were very many at the 
 dinner there. One of the married daughters no- 
 ticed fleeting expressions of pain on her mother’s 
 face, and at last sent her a message by one of the 
 servants to ask if she was not well, and should she 
 not take her place ? which was frowned down. 
 But though the flushes of color and twitches of 
 muscles returned at times, no one was to notice 
 through the whole beautiful and delicate dinner. 
 
 When the dessert came on a centre piece of en- 
 tirely white flowers had the topmost decoration 
 taken off to make way for a special bride-cake to 
 be cut by the bride before whom it was placed. Be- 
 
5 ° 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 fore putting on the dessert the upper cloth was re- 
 moved leaving another of entirely fresh damask ; 
 then followed many delightful sweet dishes ( the 
 cadet telegraphed us his satisfaction in these as he 
 improved the occasion). Finally all was removed, 
 showing the pride and care of the dining-room — 
 the polished dark mahogany table ; the twisted sil- 
 ver candlesticks, the exquisite old cut glass and fine 
 silver and crystal stands for fruits and flowers, were 
 beautifully reflected in its clear depths. 
 
 The old butler, very old and bent and a little 
 childish, had insisted on his right to place the cake 
 before the bride, although rheumatism — gout, too, 
 probably — hadweakned his hands. But he crossed 
 the large room thinking he was cariynng it on its 
 silver tray while two younger sen’ants respectfully 
 propped his feeble arms. There was a difficult 
 moment when the three reached over to the centre 
 of the table, but he did not see the kindly smiling 
 and was satisfied to have done for this bride what 
 had been his right and pleasure to do for her mother 
 and the mothers of most of us. This little cere- 
 mony was completed by his being given a glass of 
 
A VIRGINIA WEDDING. 
 
 SI 
 
 wine which he drank to the bride’s health, and 
 asked a blessing on her and her new home. 
 
 When coffee was served in the drawing-room we 
 learned that Mrs. Bowyer had had to “ retire.” The 
 daughter had followed up her observation, and 
 found that, “ rather than disturb the company ” that 
 social martyr of a mother had sat still through tor- 
 ture. A hornet had got caught under her cape and 
 had travelled about — stinging as it went ; searching 
 for an outlet, it turned down between the shoulders 
 where the angry thing fairly browsed about the 
 poor woman’s back. Fever came on and she was 
 really ill, but the force of etiquette and hospitality 
 combined made it an occasion to die at one’s post. 
 
 The bride had started for her new home “ prop- 
 erly, in her own travelling carriage,” the others had 
 dispersed to the Springs, and then our sweet un- 
 selfish grandmother let her failing condition be 
 known. She had never had any illness and hardly 
 understood her loss of strength and general faint- 
 ness. It was the ceasing to live, rather than dying. 
 But it increased rapidly and soon ended her life. 
 
 It constantly pleased her to feel she had not 
 
52 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 brought any shadow on the wedding assembly, that 
 she had been nearly as well as always, “ only tired.” 
 Quite conscious that it was rapidly closing she 
 liked to dwell on her long life so mercifully exempt 
 from illness, or sorrow, or cares. “ But I fear for 
 my descendants when I think how much has been 
 given me — there must come a change for some of 
 them.’’ Born in a happy and prosperous home, 
 married very early to her young husband and living 
 out his life on the rich estate where he was bom, 
 where her children were happily married and all 
 but one settled near her, knowing only contented 
 love and pride for three generations, she might well 
 feel change must come. 
 
 “ You will never know what war brings,” she 
 would say to us. “ My mother carried to her grave 
 a long cut on the forehead from the knife thrown 
 by an Indian ; an Indian in the British service — 
 King George's mark, she called it.” And there was 
 a story of English officers of the hated Colonel 
 Tarleton’s command riding up and demanding for- 
 age and food for themselves and the soldiers with 
 them ; of the rudeness of one officer who did not 
 
A VIRGINIA WEDDING. 
 
 55 
 
 understand the politeness with which they were 
 told it must take an hour to prepare dinner and in 
 the meantime would the gentlemen go to the rooms 
 where they could take off the dust ; of the excellent 
 dinner — of her mother’s having dressed herself in 
 her best damask gown and petticoat — of the rude 
 and angry expression of the bad officer when he 
 saw how very green the peas were (mint or lettuce 
 or something, I forget, was put in to add to their 
 green color). “ I believe you mean to poison us, 
 madam. That is the meaning of all your fine 
 airs ” — of how the lady silently sent for her young- 
 est child — “ my sister Madison ” — and taking the 
 little girl on her knee quietly fed her with the peas 
 — then : “You may feel safe now, gentlemen. Who- 
 ever eats at my table, invited or not invited, has 
 my best care. My husband, my young sons, my 
 brothers, are all in the rebel army and I pray for 
 their success and your defeat, but you will get no 
 harm from me.” 
 
 “No,” she would say. “you live as I have to en- 
 joy the peace and prosperity they suffered so much 
 to gain for us.” 
 
SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 S6 
 
 Is it not well we cannot foresee “ what is written ? ” 
 There in that once peaceful Lexington, General 
 Lee gave his last sigh — Stonewall Jackson rests in 
 its old churchyard — my cadet cousin was not to 
 know the heat and burden of the day. The Mexi- 
 can War gave active service to the army, and at 
 Cherubusco he fell fatally wounded ; his only 
 wish was to be kept alive to say farewell to the 
 uncle who had been to him father and friend and 
 military model. 
 
 The bravest are the tenderest 
 
 As with Nelson, a womanly-sweet nature welled 
 up at the last. 
 
 “ Kiss me, uncle Joe,” said the dying boy. 
 
 That uncle has seen many a battlefield since, and 
 knows the bitterness of life; but never a harder 
 moment came to General Joe Johnson than when 
 he saw the life go out from his lovable young 
 nephew, Preston Johnson. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 WASHINGTON IN PAST DAYS. 
 
 T he lovely autumn weather made a friendly 
 “ half-season ” for what was the resident 
 world of Washington. The President and Cabinet 
 lived there more steadily than now, and the Diplo- 
 matic Corps also. And there were then many 
 pleasant families who were entirely unofficial and 
 who came there as families are doing so much 
 now, because they liked the fixed order of society 
 and leisurely life of Washington. 
 
 We had grown up there and felt it even more 
 our home than St. Louis — you may have several 
 houses but only one ever feels home, and this had 
 grown to be that to us. Our house had been 
 bought by my father from a Boston gentleman who 
 had lived much in London, and who built it 
 with thick walls and spacious rooms, and beauti- 
 57 
 
58 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 fied the ground in the rear, where grass and trees 
 were framed in by high thick growths of iv}'^, 
 and scarlet-trumpet creeper which covered the 
 garden walls and stables. The winter was always 
 so crowded by ceremonious visits, dinners, and 
 such, that we absolutely needed this breathing 
 time of preparation, and that no time should be 
 lost from necessary winter-work of society all our 
 dresses were planned and each detail made quite 
 ready. We had too, long days of horseback and 
 driving, and visits to friends living on their country 
 places near by in Virginia and Maryland — Arling- 
 ton, now a city of the dead, was one of these 
 places. Then, also, we had the lu.xury of home 
 evenings, when friends and neighbors could come 
 in informally. 
 
 My father believed in working while he worked, 
 and resting completely when at rest. His library 
 on the floor above was his working-place. But 
 after we assembled in the drawing-room before 
 dinner, and until we separated for the night, it was 
 life in common to which even the youngest was 
 expected to contribute. No vexatious topic was 
 
WASHINGTON IN PAST DAYS. 
 
 59 
 
 to be introduced — this was the resting time. As 
 children, when we forgot this wholesome regula- 
 tion nothing was said at the time ; but the next 
 day we dined apart in the library and lost the priv- 
 ilege of making part of the family at table and 
 in the evening afterward. 
 
 We had each our “ settlement ” special to our- 
 selves for these home evenings. On one side of 
 the fire in the large drawing-room, my mother had 
 her table and candles with her knitting work and 
 books. Endless fine woollen little garments grew 
 under her beautiful hands without seeming to re- 
 quire attention. My father, on his side, had a 
 larger table with the book then in reading and 
 the evening mail. A tall “ astral ” lamp suited him 
 — this was in the dark days before gas — but the 
 shining silver candlesticks and snuffer-tray and 
 the tall spermaceti candles always kept their place 
 for my mother’s use. We four sisters adopted 
 the great square dining-table for our shaded lamp, 
 our work baskets and portfolios, and there our 
 little world revolved. 
 
 Music was a serious study among us. We had 
 
6o 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME, 
 
 the happiness of one noble contralto, and in 
 another sister such gift of expression on the piano 
 that it afterward made her a favorite guest of 
 Rossini when she lived in Paris. At his Tuesday 
 evenings he always had her play the Sonate Pathe- 
 tique and the “ Moonlight Sonata,” and declared 
 she was the only woman he had ever heard who 
 could play Beethoven’s music. 
 
 But in the evenings this would have interfered 
 with talking, and it was not the correct thing then 
 for the younger part of a family to direct the 
 house. If any one came in who loved music, and 
 asked for it, we were all glad enough to give it. 
 General Dix, then Senator from New York, was 
 our near neighbor, as was also the Prussian Minis- 
 ter Baron Van Gerolt ; both of these knew music 
 well and always wanted it — while Mr. Buchanan 
 and Mr. Sumner also near neighbors and intimate 
 friends, would have been greatly put out by the 
 “ interruption.” 
 
 General Dix had a house within a few doors of 
 us, next to that of Frank Key — The Star Span- 
 gled Banner — to which General DLx’s famous 
 
WASHINGTON IN PAST DAYS. 6 1 
 
 order, “ If any man attempts to haul down that 
 flag, shoot him on the spot,” belongs now as part. 
 Each of these had delightful families with whom 
 our friendships were for life. 
 
 Another unusual and charming family living 
 close by, were the Ellsworths, who were “ friends 
 indeed ” to Mr. Morse in the hard days when he 
 could not get his idea of the electric telegraph 
 launched. He was laughed at in Congress ; his 
 money gave out ; his health was going, he was 
 so worn out that his dead-white face and bril- 
 liant hollow eyes startled one. His first message, 
 “ See what God hath wrought!'' was to the young 
 daughter of these true friends ; he might have 
 added, “ And what mountains are moved by the 
 patient tender faith of women ! ” For these ladies 
 went among their friends whose husbands were in 
 Congress and made them understand, while they in 
 turn brought attention from those who could decide 
 on “ An expermtental line to Baltimore.” 
 
 Thirty miles — and now how it girdles the earth ! 
 
 The Panama Railroad — the overland “ emigrant 
 route ” — the surveys for railways to the Pacific — 
 
62 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 these and other measures then far in advance of 
 the public mind had their fireside growth among us, 
 and brought us delightful acquaintance with some 
 men of wide travel ; among them “ Central-Amer- 
 ica-Stevens ” as he was called from his latest 
 journey. My mother had greatly liked his ear- 
 lier books on Arabia and the Holy Land, and 
 when the Panama-business-talk was through he 
 would go from my father to my mother for their 
 pleasant talk. Coming to us, later, in his quick 
 boyish w'ay and demanding tea and much cake, 
 and telling us we must be very good to him for he 
 was to be sent to the Isthmus to die — as he did, 
 from too long stay there while superintending the 
 building of the Railroad. 
 
 Much of this talk and planning was done in 
 this less crow'ded time and we had the advan- 
 tage of hearing ; so our minds grew to great 
 ideas, and also to a comprehension of the weary 
 long work and sublime patience invoh'ed in their 
 carrying out. 
 
 As this was before sewing machines ( as well as 
 before telegraphs and gas) we had always some 
 
WASHINGTON IN PAST DAYS. 
 
 63 
 
 handwork that was taken up each evening — fine 
 little ruffies of linen cambric, “ edgings ” to cut out 
 the points and scallops from, or fine flannels to be 
 worked in scallops — things that went in aid to 
 the real sewing woman ( our human machine), and 
 gave us use for our hands as we listened. The 
 old mahogany furniture of the dining-room was 
 English and had been bought with the house ; the 
 dancing lights reflected in its dark polished sur- 
 faces from the wood-fire, the shaded lamp and the 
 glitter of the tea-equipage, the fragrance of the large 
 plants of rose-geranium, and the delicate bitter 
 of chrysanthemums, all blend in my memory with 
 this talk of the tropical work of the Panama Rail- 
 road. 
 
 In this settled order of our living, how could I 
 see that so soon after I should cross that deadly 
 Isthmus ? to be detained many weeks by illness in 
 Panama where Stevens — dying, as he had known 
 he must — came daily, as he said, “ to take my chill 
 with yotil’ 
 
 How reviving to us was even the memory of cool 
 autumn evenings ! Palms, and waving cocoa-trees, 
 
64 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 and endless summer-seas, are beautiful, but they 
 grow no tap-root in the affections such as our 
 changing seasons give. That “ social life ceases 
 above eighty and below thirty degrees ” is very 
 much of a truth, I think. 
 
 General Dix was an artist and musician, and open 
 to every good and beautiful impression. His 
 home-life was singularly attractive. Only their 
 intimates knew the charm of wit and fancy in Mrs. 
 Dix who was very reserved always. I found her 
 rooms so filled with beautiful flowers one day ( in 
 New York and since the war) that she answered 
 my look — “No, it is not to be a party, h\iX yester- 
 day was our fiftieth anniversatyf — our golden wed- 
 ding,” — and with her still handsome face lit up 
 with gentle fun, “ We have had our celebration and 
 the newspapers have not found it out ! ” 
 
 We each and all liked one another and were 
 really intimate in those old Washington days. One 
 evening I went in to tell Mrs. Dix, who had taken 
 much interest in the case, that a man I was greatly 
 interested for could not get his pension because he 
 had not been a regularly enlisted soldier when 
 
WASHINGTON IN PAST DAYS. 
 
 6S 
 
 wounded. The man, a Canadian Frenchman, had 
 lost the use of a leg from a gunshot wound while 
 on an expedition under General (then Lieutenant) 
 Fremont. 
 
 And before this could be quite cured another 
 accident completely disabled the other leg. fie 
 suis pas clereP said Alexis to me, “ il faut mourir de 
 faimP 
 
 General Dix had a visitor who did not make any 
 comment on our talk of the poor Canadian, but 
 when he left the General returned from the hall to 
 say that that gentleman was the Chairman of the 
 Committee on Pensions — Preston King of New 
 York ; that he had asked him to say to me that if 
 I would write out the man’s story, briefly, as I had 
 been telling it, he would get him a pension. And 
 in a few days it was all done. Because he was not 
 an enlisted man it was made a little larger than 
 the regulation pension, with back-pay from the date 
 of the wound — two years. 
 
 Lifted from despair, with some hundreds in hand 
 and a secured future, Alexis came to thank me, 
 swaying on his crutches, tears covering his dark 
 
66 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 thin face : “ I cannot kneel to you — I have no 
 more legs — but you are my Sainte Madonne." 
 
 This is not the only gracious use of power I have 
 met from Congress. The early friendships made 
 in my father’s house with so man ■ men of position 
 gave me the position to speak, and on several occa- 
 sions I have had the quickest kindest attention, 
 For the famine in the South after the war, when 
 a relief-ship to carry supplies was needed and at 
 once granted by both Houses. I had written to 
 one Senator and one Member of the House, and 
 within a few days we had the ship, and with it the 
 order for all the Freedman’s Bureau could supply; 
 and again, in a case of long-delayed justice to naval 
 officers who had resigned, but at the opening of the 
 war volunteered for service, without any conditions, 
 to find themselves unfairly placed afterward. This 
 case was most honorable to the chairman of the 
 committee * having charge of it, but it is too long to 
 put here. Enough that my appeal to his sense of 
 right brought up the Bill which had for seven years 
 been smothered in various committees ; by his ac- 
 
 ♦General N. P. Banks, 
 
WASHINGTON IN PAST DAYS. 
 
 67 
 
 tive work and the help ot a charming woman who 
 was in official power,* we immediately secured full 
 justice, back pay, and advanced positions to over 
 thirty officers. 
 
 Judge Black of Pennsylvania, who had a rough 
 wit but a kind nature, said once to me, “ Your 
 geese are all swans.” I told him he knew I could 
 discriminate and had my own sharp experience 
 also as guide. But there is so much told of what 
 is unlovely and of bad report that I for one prefer 
 to dwell only on what is good. In great trials of 
 our country — the war, the yellow fever scourge in 
 the South, great fires and wide spread calamities — 
 the prompt thorough sustained generosity and good 
 feeling of our people as a whole has been something 
 to make the heart glad and thankful. And Con- 
 gress only represents these people. 
 
 So I choose to be a poor artist and paint as 
 Queen Elizabeth ordered — leaving out the shadows. 
 
 ♦Mrs. George Robe.son. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A ROYAL VISITOR. 
 
 • 
 
 I T was during one of these resting seasons that 
 we had a royal visitor, the Prince de Joinvnlle, 
 who came to Washington in October of ’41 to make 
 his respects to the President as his frigate had 
 touched in at New York. As the son of the “ King 
 of the French,” he was especially welcomed ; and 
 his ship and himself had interested the public from 
 their duty of bringing home from St. Helena the 
 remains of the great Napoleon. 
 
 The President gave for him, not only the official 
 dinner of ceremony, but a ball also. It was said 
 there was Cabinet remonstrance against dancing 
 in the White House as a “ want of dignity,” but 
 Mr. Tyler rightly thought a dance would best please 
 a young navj' man and a Frenchman, and we had 
 
 therefore a charming and unusually brilliant ball. 
 68 
 
A ROYAL VISITOR. 
 
 69 
 
 All our army and navy officers were in uniform as 
 the Prince and his suite wore theirs, and, for the son 
 of a King, the Diplomatic Corps were in full court 
 dress. 
 
 Writing chiefly for girls I may be permitted to 
 tell that on that occasion I had the pleasure of 
 wearing my first real Paris dress — of fine muslin 
 and Valenciennes. A cousin from New Orleans 
 whose toilettes were prepared for a season at Sara- 
 toga and Newport, had been with us when her 
 father died; and as was the Southern fashion, she 
 gave her pretty things among her friends. 
 
 Mrs. Tyler was an invalid and saw only her old 
 friends ; but Mrs. Robert Tyler, the wife of the 
 eldest son, was every way fitted to be the lady of the 
 White House. From both her parents, especially 
 her witty and beautiful mother, she had society 
 qualifications and tact, while the President’s young- 
 est daughter was beautiful as well as gentle and 
 pleasant. 
 
 Mr. Webster as Secretary of State, was, next to 
 the President, the chief person. For fine appear- 
 ance, for complete fitness for that representative 
 
70 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 position, both Mrs. Webster and himself have never 
 been surpassed. 
 
 The Prince was tall and fine looking, and Miss 
 Tyler and himself opened the ball, while those of 
 us who knew French well were assigned to his 
 officers. 
 
 We had remained in the oval reception room 
 until the company was assembled, and then, the 
 President leading, the whole foreign party were 
 taken through all the drawing-rooms, ending by 
 our taking places for the Quadrille d'honneur in 
 the East Room ; that ceremony over, dancing be- 
 came general, and we were free to choose our 
 partners. 
 
 The Prince must have had pleasant memories of 
 his American visit for, later, he came back bring- 
 ing a young son, Pierre de Penthievre, to our Naval 
 Academy at Annapolis, where, I have heard both 
 foreign and home authorities on education say, the 
 course of training was uncommonly full, useful and 
 developing. 
 
 There the lad was promptly re-christened by the 
 midshipmen, Peter Ponteever, and became a favorite. 
 
A ROYAL VISITOR. 
 
 7 * 
 
 On one of their summer cruises they went to Lis- 
 bon, where his cousin, the King of Portugal, had 
 him out for a week’s visit ; but the little duke came 
 back before it was half over, liking best the friendly 
 equality of his cadet comrades. This consequence 
 of American education was, no doubt, one result his 
 father intended ; for that branch of the Orleans 
 family understand real education. The influence 
 of one woman has told for good on them for more 
 than a hundred years. When Madame de Genlis 
 took the post of instructress in the family of that 
 Duke of Orleans who voted for the execution of his 
 cousin, Louis the Sixteenth, a new era began for 
 them, and they have been the wiser and better all 
 through for the broader education she directed. 
 
 When Louis Philippe thought to please the 
 French, and rouse their feelings by having the 
 body of Napoleon brought to France to be laid in 
 the midst of his battle-worn veterans at the Hotel 
 des Invalides, he succeeded ; but in the way Shakes- 
 peare says the engineer may succeed with his own 
 petard. His “ act of magnanimity,” so far from 
 making him stronger, only supplied a fresh strength 
 
72 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 against him, and the French made another of those 
 radical changes of government of which they have 
 averaged one in every ten years for the century 
 we have been an “ Experiment in Government,” as 
 they used to say in Europe. 
 
 Ready-made phrases are handy for people who 
 do not do their own thinking, but a little examina- 
 tion will show these do not always fit. That phrase 
 of an “ experiment in government ” has a twin in 
 one on our foreign appointments ; that they make 
 us the “ laughing-stock of Europe.” Look into this 
 for yourselves and you will find among our repre- 
 sentatives, Franklin and Monroe, Clay and Adams, 
 and Buchanan, and the dignified King, of Georgia, 
 and Rush of honorable Philadelphia name, and 
 John Randolph and Washington Irving, and Ever- 
 ett and Motley, and many another less known. 
 Science, patriotism, genius and character, and keen 
 honor and devotion to their countr}' have done us 
 honor abroad. We know all about the exceptions 
 and that they are queer, and sometimes wrong, but 
 do foreign countries always send us their best? 
 
 A diplomatic post had really great importance 
 
A ROYAL VISITOR. 
 
 73 
 
 before steam and electricity brought the heads of 
 nations so near each other that no misunderstand- 
 ing could grow. Now, it is chiefly useful to prevent 
 misunderstandings and to keep up the sort of polite 
 interest which only comes from constant personal 
 intercourse. 
 
 Both France and Belgium were poorly repre- 
 sented at the time of this visit of the French Prince, 
 so that there was no general entertainment given by 
 either of their ministers. One, the French, was so 
 occupied in the care of his health that he thought 
 only of that — he had brought a physician as part 
 of his legation, and never went out without him, 
 not even to visit. As the King of Belgium was 
 brother-in-law to the Prince, some attention was 
 due from the Belgian minister ; but he was the 
 “ laughing stock ” of Washington from his stingi- 
 ness — not economy, but mean savings. His chief 
 end and aim was to save money. He accepted all 
 invitations to dinner, but when he had to invite 
 people the dinner would be all right, but he would 
 tell the price of different things, and mourn that of 
 all that food none would be properly saved or it 
 
74 
 
 SOUVENIRS OE MV TIME. 
 
 would last him a weekl He grieved over his col- 
 ored cook who would not take care of the small 
 bits of meat — “ she feeds chickens on good 
 pieces that would make croquettes!” Naturally 
 the woman had no interest in any savings. She 
 was a slave and her owner received her earnings; 
 why should she take care of two men’s interests ? 
 
 He may have had fine qualities, but I never 
 heard of them. He, as well as some others, looked 
 upon the United States as an inferior sort of 
 country where no restraint need be put upon their 
 real nature, and his ruling passion was the love of 
 money ; not “ for the glorious privilege of being 
 independent,” but for its own sake. 
 
 His Secretary' of Legation * was in complete con- 
 trast, and an honor to his country and of use to it, 
 and to ours also, by his intelligent comprehension 
 of our wonderful resources for emigration. His 
 family were of governing position, and he was to fit 
 himself for high trusts by knowledge of many men 
 in many lands. He only knew book-English when 
 he arrived, but as soon as his English should im- 
 prove enough he was to go and investigate for his 
 
 • Baron Von Der Straiten. 
 
A ROYAL VISirOR. 
 
 75 
 
 government the ways of living and resources of the 
 farming people in our Western States and Terri- 
 tories, with a view to future emigration from Bel- 
 gium. My father took much interest in aiding him 
 in this, and for himself he became one of our most 
 welcome intimates. 
 
 It pleased us all that he constantly spoke of his 
 mother who evidently was his friend and compan- 
 ion (he was in the early twenties). 
 
 Furnished with many letters of introduction, he 
 went for the summer and autumn on his journey 
 of observation through what was then the far West ; 
 Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, etc., etc. He had al- 
 ready become assured that plenty governed, but he 
 waited to report what he should actually see. 
 
 When he was back in the winter a new world 
 had been revealed to him — Our New World. 
 
 He had gone from surprise to surprise. He had 
 asked to stay in the family of a farmer that he might 
 see the harvesting and gain the English of farm- 
 ing uses. It was like being the guest of a king, he 
 said ; money he found would be an insult. He had 
 to make it a visit. 
 
76 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 It was in one of the free States where all worked, 
 “yet they talked politics,” he said; “the farmer’s 
 wife even. She also made excellent bread and of 
 so many kinds ! Of wheat and of maize, and many 
 fanciful cakes with sugar and eggs and spices, and 
 always buckets of milk in addition to great tins of 
 tea and coffee ! And three times a day meat ! 
 And not only beef, but game and poultr)' in pro- 
 fusion, and orchards of peaches and apples, while 
 potatoes and cabbages were of course and in end- 
 less profusion.” 
 
 “ I dared not write all this to my mother,” he 
 said. “ I did not at all write in detail to my gov- 
 ernment ; I reserved my facts for my return. But 
 I wrote my mother of my life on this farm, of its 
 prodigal abundance and that everywhere was the 
 same when a little time and industry had brought 
 out the return for labor. I did not venture to tell 
 her of the meat three times a day, but put it three 
 times a week. And she wrote me imploring I would 
 be careful and not let my youth and the pleasure of 
 novelty carry me into wild generalization — but 
 to be calm and exaggerate nothing. What shall I 
 
A ROYAL VISITOR. 
 
 77 
 
 say,” he laughed ; “ how can I make even my mother 
 believe about the bacon and cheese and bread al- 
 ways there for every one — and the sweetmeats and 
 honey! I could not believe you myself when you 
 told me of this ; how can they believe who know 
 how many of our people get meat on feast days 
 only ? ” 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 BARON VON GEROLT. 
 
 M uch of the soUcl faith in our country which 
 made Germany take our war bonds is 
 doubtless due to the long residence among us of 
 Baron von Gerolt. Humboldt, who was his friend, 
 had chosen him for minister to Mexico, where he 
 was for many years, coming from there to us ; also 
 he was honored by close relations with his King. 
 I think it was twenty-five years the Baron lived in 
 Washington — studying our countr}', its resources, 
 its representative men, and becoming from long con- 
 viction our fast friend. When so many reported to 
 their governments that the “ Union was completely 
 ended,” he knew it could not be so, and held fast to 
 the faith for which his own knowledge gave him 
 reason. He gave proof of this faith by investing 
 all his resources in our war bonds when they were 
 78 
 
BARON VON GEROLT. 
 
 79 
 
 first issued and were very low; and when he was 
 retired, after a lifetime of service, these bonds had 
 so risen in value that they made him a really wealthy 
 man. He too had a delightful family, his wife be- 
 ing a German lady of the best high-type of home 
 and society woman. Theirs was an elegant and 
 hospitable home, and their long residence enabled 
 them to form lasting friendships — one of the strong- 
 est and most valued of which was with Mr. Sumner. 
 So many of the foreign ministers of my time were 
 either not married or had married American or Eng- 
 lish women, that a genuine representative woman 
 of a foreign country had become unusual in Wash- 
 ington. My old friend Bodisco lived out his days 
 happily with his American wife and children, dying 
 and being buried in Georgetown. His successor 
 also married an American ; the wives of three suc- 
 cessive French ministers were one from Tennessee, 
 another from Washington, and the third from Bos- 
 ton. The Brazilian and Portuguese ministers were 
 married to English ladies, and the wife of the Span- 
 ish minister was Scotch ; and this last was a great 
 gain for the present royal family of Spain. She 
 
8o 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 was made Directress of the household of the eldest 
 daughter of Queen Isabella, and had a shaping 
 hand in the education of all the children — includ- 
 ing the present king of Spain. Mr. Fox, the Eng- 
 lish minister of my early days, cared for nothing 
 but cards — he slept by day and played all night. 
 Mr. Pakenham, who came after, was also unmarried ; 
 but he made his house worthy of his position and 
 it was the headquarters of refined pleasures in music 
 and tableaux and many occasions of elegant gaye- 
 ties. 
 
 Succeeding Mr. Pakenham came a fine and thor- 
 ough English legation. Coming over direct in a man- 
 of-war with the whole legation, and invited friends, 
 with servants and all household belongings com- 
 plete, only dropping anchor in the Potomac, Sir 
 Henry Bulwer represented in everyway his countr\^ 
 He was an invalid, but one of England’s most capable 
 diplomats. His nephew, a delightful lad of nine- 
 teen, was attached to the legation — this was the 
 young author of Lucille, and known everywhere since 
 as “ Owen Meredith ” ev'en better than as the son 
 of the Bulwer, or as Viceroy of India. 
 
BARON VON GEROLT, 
 
 8l 
 
 Lady Bulwer had a greater name still, for she 
 was niece to the Duke of Wellington. She had 
 grown up in Paris where her father, Lord Cowley, 
 was for many years the English embassador. Lady 
 Bulwer knew music well. She had delightful musi- 
 cal parties. It was a charming house where talent 
 embellished station and attracted the best in soci- 
 ety. At one of her Tuesdays I heard a New York 
 man telling her what they could show her when she 
 came to New York — “ and the dressing will aston- 
 ish you.” 
 
 Lady Bulwer had a specially languid manner 
 (only manner though). She looked up at him — then 
 in her slow clear voice : ‘■‘■1 am astonished already. 
 Your ladies here bewilder me by their many changes 
 of dresses. In Paris one has dresses for different 
 occasions, and one wears them while they are fresh. 
 But you have so many changes — ” and she sank 
 back as though wearied by their memory. 
 
 The accession of a new monarch is always made 
 known, officially, through the resident minister 
 representing his country, which is quite sufficient 
 on account of our great distance from Europe ; 
 
82 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 there, however, the more marked formality of a 
 special envoy is made. This is in the same spirit 
 that we make a personal as well as a written invi- 
 tation where we wish to show respect. 
 
 When the present King of Belgium succeeded to 
 his father (near the close of our war) he added this 
 courtesy of a Special Envoy to us also — which 
 was particularly well done in view of all the dis- 
 turbed relations created by the war. 
 
 This Envoy we had known when as a young 
 man he had been attached to the Belgian Lega- 
 tion in Washington. 
 
 On his return homewards through New York he 
 came to see me, glad, he said, to meet some one 
 of the old society of Washington ; he had been 
 saddened by finding the old pleasant friendly soci- 
 ety of Washington so completely dispersed by the 
 war, and he stayed long talking over those times. 
 He could not come back to dine with us that day, 
 being already engaged, but did so the ne.vt, as the 
 morning following he was to sail. 
 
 At dinner the ne.xt day, he was greatly inter- 
 ested in talking over the newer conditions of our 
 
BARON VON GEROLT. 
 
 83 
 
 country since he had known it. Then, the first 
 explorations to the Rocky Mountains were only 
 begun — now, Bierstadt, whom I had asked to 
 meet him, was just in from one of his sketching 
 tours in those mountains. We were pretty much 
 a party of travellers ; all at table had travelled 
 much in America as well as Europe, and two of 
 the ladies — both of them young, beautiful and 
 unusually agreeable women — had been with their 
 husbands in India. All were capable of compre- 
 hending not only the progressing growth of the 
 country but also its future development. 
 
 What most impressed the Baron was the reason- 
 ing, orderly manner with which our people were 
 accepting great changes. 
 
 A telegram was brought in which the General 
 read, then sent round to me ; I gave it to Baron 
 Beaulieu, telling him there was another change. 
 It was from a friend in Congress to say the vote 
 had just been taken on the Fifteenth Amendment 
 and it had passed. 
 
 There was wide difference of opinion, and feel- 
 ing, among those present as to the result of the 
 
84 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 measure ; but the Baron, who was at first speech- 
 less from the surprise of what he read, asked that 
 he might keep that despatch to carr)- back with 
 him and show to his King as part of the astonish- 
 ing quiet and swiftness with which radical changes 
 are made here. 
 
 I had been out the morning before when the 
 Baron came and found him waiting for me, as he 
 had been told where I had gone and must be at 
 home now very soon ; his time was so short he 
 would not risk a second failure to meet me and so 
 waited. After his steamer had sailed I received 
 a note he had left for me, saying how agreeable 
 had been the renewal of old acquaintance and the 
 whole visit to our house, and enclosing “ a little 
 offering” as he called it, but it was a generous 
 one, for the charitable institution (the Nursery 
 and Child’s Hospital) at which I had been the 
 morning he called. His wife, he said, was often 
 the almoner of her friend. Mile, de Rothschild, 
 and knew the good even small sums might do. 
 
 The repose of “ a place for ever}-thing, and 
 ever}’tliing in its place ” is felt in the fixed frame- 
 
BARON VON GEROLT. 
 
 8S 
 
 work of society in Washington where a long-estab- 
 lished usage governs and makes order. Else- 
 where local ideas give sometimes strange results 
 — the strangest being where money alone dictates. 
 But the national capital has as its society-head the 
 one elected to be the head of the whole country — 
 the Cabinet, the Supreme Court and Senate and 
 House, with the Diplomatic Corps and heads of 
 the Army and Navy make the fixed framework 
 which secures distinction of position. 
 
 Of course the addition of attractive personal 
 qualities and the advantages of wealth add to this, 
 but they cannot confer it, nor can the lack of them 
 lessen the official value of those not having them. 
 
 An introduction into society there by any one 
 in position opens the whole circle. Even where 
 such position is a thing of the past it has its old 
 rights, and a most agreeable feature — peculiar to 
 Washington society — is this recognition of past 
 or inherited social importance. 
 
 This unwritten law was framed not without 
 thought and trouble, but all had been settled long 
 before my time. There still lingered however 
 
86 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 stories of rebelling women — one, of the spirited 
 and charming Mrs. Livingstone of New Orleans. 
 Accustomed to the high distinction of her husband, 
 Edward Livingstone, she could not reconcile her- 
 self to the position of Attorney General being at 
 the foot of the Cabinet. 
 
 She did not feel like the Scotch noble — “ where 
 the MacGregor sits, there is the head of the table.” 
 
 ‘■‘'Madame la mmistre (TEtat” and Madame of 
 the National Treasury, “ Madatne de la Guerre^' and 
 Madame de la Marine^'’’ too, she admitted, repre- 
 sented interests important enough to precede her; 
 but “ to walk ifi to dinner behind Madame PozE- 
 OFFEESE ! — jamais ! ” 
 
 But so it stands ; and the Law which is master 
 of all the country still follows after all Depart- 
 ments, even the Post Office. 
 
 What is not fi.xed, but ought to be, is the secure 
 continuing in office of all officials connected with 
 the working of the Government. This is not the 
 place for so large and serious a subject. But 
 only those who have lived in Washington through 
 many changes of administration can realize the 
 
BARON VON GEROLT. 
 
 87 
 
 sad wrong of holding office only at the will of a 
 President. 
 
 My father’s efforts to remedy this — begun as 
 far back as 1825 — are among my many sources 
 of pride in his wise, unselfish, public life. 
 
 As it is now, with each change of administration 
 comes a panic as distressing as those which cause 
 such griefs and disheartenings in business com- 
 munities — and, during all the time, create a smoth- 
 ered atmosphere of fear and suppressed manliness 
 which is not American. 
 
 You boys who read these pages will think of 
 this, for soon you will be men, and then your intel- 
 ligent knowledge of your country’s business will 
 give value to your vote. It will certainly add 
 vastly to the sum of family happiness for men to 
 know that their good behavior and efficiency 
 secure permanence in Government employment. 
 
 And I, for one, hold that whoever can give 
 happiness enjoys a divine privilege. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 FAMILY LIFE OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 
 
 MONG my earliest memories of the White 
 
 House is the impression that I was to keep 
 still and not fidget, or show pain, even if General 
 Jackson twisted his fingers a little too tightly in 
 my curls ; he liked my father to bring me when 
 they had their talks, and would keep me by him, 
 his hand on my head — forgetting me of course in 
 the interest of discussion — so that sometimes, his 
 long, bony fingers took an unconscious grip that 
 would make me look at my father, but give no 
 other sign. He was sure to praise me afterward if 
 I did not wince, and would presently contrive my 
 being sent off to the nursery for a play with the 
 Donaldson children. 
 
 We would find the President in an upper room, 
 where the tall south windows sent in long breadths 
 
 88 
 
FAMILY LIFE OF THE WHITE HOUSE, 89 
 
 of sunshine ; but his big rocking-chair was always 
 drawn close to the large wood-fire. Wounds and 
 rheumatism went for much in the look of pain fixed 
 on his thin face, but the true instinct of a child felt 
 the sadness and loneliness that made him so gen- 
 tle, and so pleased to have a bright unconscious 
 affectionate little life near him. 
 
 I knew he was very sorry because his wife had 
 died ; after they reached Washington — just before 
 he was inaugurated, and I knew they had had a 
 long and happy life together. More than this I did 
 not know, for children were kept young then. 
 
 Theirs had been an unusually harmonious life. 
 Like many a woman “ with nothing remarkable in 
 her,” she had the enviable gift of making life sweet 
 and reposing to all about her — she was eminently 
 a “gentle ” woman. 
 
 She had lived always among people who knew 
 her and loved her and in the profound retirement 
 of Southern country life. Except the one episode 
 of a cruel husband, from whom she had been di- 
 vorced young, all her days had been peace and 
 honor. Into this seclusion and peace came the 
 
go 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 concentrated fire of one of the most savage of our 
 political campaigns, the most venomous part being 
 aimed at Mrs. Jackson herself. 
 
 My mother had her prejudices against divorce, 
 but at my father’s wish went with him to call on 
 Mrs. Jackson when the General and herself ar- 
 rived in Washington. The sight of the shrinking, 
 failing woman appealed at once to larger feelings, 
 and my mother went often to see Mrs. Jackson 
 during the brief remainder of her life. 
 
 She was glad to die, she said : the General would 
 miss her, but if she had lived she might be in the 
 way of his new life — “ she could not share it after 
 those cruel things said against her.” 
 
 It was Desdemona’s piteous “ Am I that thing ! ” 
 
 We women \\nll not feel General Jackson the 
 less a good man that in dying he answered his 
 clerg}-man — yes, that he was ready, that he asked 
 forgiveness as he forgave all — “ All e.xcept those 
 who slandered my Rachel to death.” 
 
 So this lonely, high-natured old man gathered 
 about him those his wife loved — her nephew and 
 his wife and their children. There were cliildren’s 
 
GENERAL JACKSON. 
 
 f 
 
FAMILY LIFE OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 
 
 93 
 
 voices in the White House ; birth and death were 
 there, for Mrs. Donaldson died during the second 
 term ; a refined Tennessee woman who made the 
 President’s house hospitable and homelike. 
 
 This was by no means so easy then as now. The 
 house was damply-cold, and the whole expense of 
 warming and lighting it came upon the President. 
 For some time back this has been otherwise pro- 
 vided for. Now but few expenses fall upon 
 the President. All the present well-ordered ser- 
 vice of the house, as well as its warming and light- 
 ing, the fine kitchen-gardens, etc., the forage and 
 stable service, are provided for with many added 
 things, which fully double the present salary of 
 fifty thousand dollars. But when it was only the 
 twenty-five thousand dollars with every possible 
 demand to be met from that, it was a heavy pull. 
 
 Mr. Van Buren had the glass screen put quite 
 across that windy entrance hall, and great wood 
 fires made a struggle against the chill of the house, 
 but it was so badly underdrained that in all long 
 rains the floors of kitchens and cellars were actu- 
 ally under water. 
 
94 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 No summer residence was then provided for the 
 President. They stayed on through heat and cold. 
 Mr. Fillmore, after the death of President Taylor, 
 was the fi^t to avoid the house where the marshes 
 between it and the river made malaria inevitable ; 
 he rented and lived in a pretty place on George- 
 town Heights, known as “ the English cottage.” 
 
 But with all drawbacks, those ladies of the White 
 House made it a succession of friendly dignified 
 and honorable memories for those who knew them 
 there. 
 
 There was of course the routine of formal din- 
 ners and the many informal ones to more intimate 
 friends. Mr. Van Buren especially gave channing 
 little dinners, always in the more homelike family 
 dining-room. The regular receptions, both day 
 and evening, were for ceremonious visits ; but on 
 any evening the family of the President was to be 
 found at home — with their needlework and books 
 and intimate friends — in short, living as other peo- 
 ple do. 
 
 I only write here of those up to ’55. I had a 
 long illness then and afterwards only went back 
 
FAMILY LIFE OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 95 
 
 to Washington to see my father from time to time 
 — not staying there again at any time over a few 
 days until in ’70. 
 
 President Jackson at first had suppers at the gen- 
 eral receptions, but this had to be given up. He 
 had them however for his invited receptions of a 
 thousand and more. It was his wish I should 
 come to one of these great supper parties, and I 
 have the beautiful recollection of the whole stately 
 house adorned and ready for the company — (for 
 I was taken early and sent home after a very short 
 stay) — the great wood fires in every room, the im- 
 mense number of wax-lights softly burning, the 
 stands of camelias and laurestina banked row 
 upon row, the glossy dark green leaves bringing 
 into full relief their lovely wax-like flowers ; after 
 going all through this silent waiting fairyland, we 
 were taken to the state dining-room where was the 
 gorgeous supper-table shaped like a horseshoe, 
 and covered with every good and glittering thing 
 French skill could devise, and at either end was a 
 monster salmon in waves of meat jelly. 
 
 And then I was sent home with a big supply of 
 
96 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 good things and flowers — willing to go, for the 
 coming of many people broke the charm of the 
 silent beautiful rooms. 
 
 In other places “ business is business ; ” but 
 apart from the morning hours at the Capitol and 
 the official work at the Departments, in Washing- 
 ton pleasure is business — but pleasure is made to 
 serve business too. 
 
 So many interests centre there with important 
 men having charge of them — eager naturally to get 
 through and return home to their regular affairs, 
 but from necessity obliged to wait for attention — 
 that the later part of the days and the evenings 
 are but the continuing of often serious work. 
 
 “ Come home with me and we will talk it over 
 at dinner,” is a common answer even now from 
 men in position whose mornings belong to official 
 duties. 
 
 In the more leisurely and more simply hospit- 
 able earlier time this was a matter of course, and 
 to have others comprehend equally, some few nec- 
 essary men would be asked to meet them in the 
 same informal manner. Then there were always 
 
FAMILY LIFE OF THE WHITE HOUSE, 97 
 
 passing through old friends or their children, or 
 strangers with introductions with only a day or so 
 to stay. Out of this has grown a more easy and 
 graceful habit of impromptu and small dinners 
 than I have met elsewhere. Now that its original 
 plan is carried out, Washington shews for what it is 
 — the drawing-room of the nation. In early spring 
 when everywhere the clear sun shines only on wide 
 clean streets with beautiful bordering avenues of 
 healthy trees, and honeysuckle and roses and many 
 sweet things garland the railings and houses, it is a 
 joy to go about in the fresh fragrance. 
 
 We did not have all that in the old day, but the 
 germ of all was there. Especially the ever-ready 
 courtesy and hospitality. 
 
 This was made easy in one direction by well- 
 ordered and undisturbed households. In our own 
 house although the servants were all freed, or 
 born free, there was no thought of change. It 
 was a comfort never to have strangers about one 
 at home. 
 
 And there have always been admirable French 
 cooks in Washington. The foreign ministers all 
 
98 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 brought them ; when they returned — if not sooner 
 — the cooks deserted and set up in business for 
 themselves. These not only went out to prepare 
 fine dinners, but took as pupils young slaves sent 
 by families to be instructed. In that way a work- 
 ing knowledge of good cookery of the best French 
 school became diffused among numbers of the col- 
 ored people — and for cookery they have natural 
 aptitude. Wormley, whose hotel in Washington 
 was famous and who has lately died leaving over 
 a million of property, owed his success to such 
 training, as well as to his business capacity which 
 turned it to profit. 
 
 Mr. Van Buren brought over from London, where 
 he had been our minister, a fine chef^ and his din- 
 ners were as good and delicate as possible ; but 
 his was a formal household — none of the large 
 hospitality of General Jackson who held it as “ the 
 People’s House ” and himself as their steward ; 
 and still less of the “open- house” of the Tyler 
 regime where there were many young people who 
 kept to their informal, cheery Virginia ways. 
 
 Mr. Tyler’s youngest daughter was a beautiful 
 
FAMILY LIFE OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 99 
 
 girl, and her sister-in-law, Mrs. Robert Tyler, was 
 unusually well qualified by birth and training for 
 her position as presiding over the White House. 
 
 Later, Mrs. Tyler having died, the President 
 married a young wife from New York. Her father, 
 Mr. Gardiner of Gardiner’s Island, was killed by 
 the explosion of a great gun on the Frinceton at an 
 entertainment given on board by Commodore 
 Stockton to all the official world of Washington. 
 Two members of the Cabinet were killed as well 
 as Mr. Gardiner, and many were seriously hurt by 
 the fragments of the gun when it burst — among 
 these was my father. The President had just 
 gone below with some ladies. 
 
 This tragedy led to his marriage. Miss Gardi- 
 ner was very handsome and has retained great 
 health and youthfulness of appearance. There 
 was a little laughing at her for driving four horses 
 (finer horses than those of the Russian minister), 
 and because she received seated — her large arm- 
 chair on a slightly raised platform in front of the 
 windows opening to the circular piazza looking on 
 the river. Also three feathers in her hair, and a 
 
lOO 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 long-trained purple velvet dress were much com- 
 mented on by the elders who had seen other Presi- 
 dents’ wives take their state more easily. 
 
 With all Presidents’ families up to the time, in- 
 cluding General Taylor’s administration when his 
 sweet and most ladylike daughter, Mrs. Bliss, re- 
 ceived for him, it was usual for the lady of the 
 White House to be at home as any of us would be 
 in our houses ; and whether, informally, in the 
 evenings, or on fixed formal occasions, you went 
 there to see the wife or daughter, as might be, of 
 the President, and to her you made your respects. 
 
 After the death of President Taylor I was away 
 for many years and I do not like the fashion I 
 found replacing this obviously correct form of re- 
 ception. The long line of ladies in evening dress 
 who “ assist ” now, take away the meaning and 
 unity of the idea of making one’s respects to the 
 family of the Chief Magistrate. 
 
 Mrs. Polk who followed the Tylers, was a very 
 proud, very handsome, very dignified woman who 
 neither needed “assistance” nor would she have 
 liked to share her duties of state. Erect, atten- 
 
T 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 
 ' . ^ 
 
THOMAS H. BENTON, 
 
FAMILY LIFE OF THE WHITE HOUSE. lOJ 
 
 live, quietly gracious, she really did her part well. 
 She was also an admirable housekeeper, and 
 brought order into the domestic managements, 
 which was a great deal to add to all her other du- 
 ties. It was a quiet house in her day, no young 
 people, and no children. Following her came 
 Mrs. Pierce — already broken in health and now 
 heart-broken, poor woman. Fate, that so often 
 fills the cup of triumph only to add a drop so bit- 
 ter that we fain would put it from us, took all the 
 life out of her life immediately after the election 
 of President Pierce ; their only child, a boy of 
 twelve, was killed — schockingly mutilated — in a 
 railroad accident, she beside him, ’seeing it, but 
 powerless to help, Fler woe-begone face with its 
 sunken dark eyes, and skin like yellowed ivory, 
 banished all animation in others. She tried but 
 constantly broke down in her efforts to lift, but her 
 life was over in fact from the time of that dreadful 
 shock. Mr. Pierce, too, felt their loss deeply, but 
 his was a more genial nature. He was a most ami- 
 able man whose friends remained always attached 
 to him. He often received alone, and many a 
 
104 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 pleasant gay circle gathered near the fireplace in 
 the oval room and kept him amused. 
 
 Years before when he had been in the Senate he 
 was much at our house and now he treated me as 
 the child of old friends ; although my father had 
 refused personal intercourse with him from some 
 political offense. Coming back as I did from a 
 long absence both in California and then in Europe, 
 Mr. Pierce propitiated my father by coming at 
 once to call on me. Of course my father received 
 him well in his own house and he made me go to 
 the President’s, “for,” he said, “it is Pierce’s head 
 that is wrong — his heart is always right.” 
 
 It was indeed as we had occasion soon to feel. 
 
 One day as I was with my cousin, Mrs. Preston 
 of Kentucky, at one of her receptions, we were as- 
 tonished by the apparition in the drawing-room 
 door of her French cook in white cap and apron. 
 He waved his hands towards the street, then gasped, 
 “ The house of Senator Benton burn ! ” At the 
 same moment a friend rushed in for me and we drove 
 rapidly to my father’s. 
 
 Thick smoke was filling the air, and a great 
 
FAMILY LIFE OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 105 
 
 crowd stood helpless. What little water was to 
 be had was frozen, and the house was doomed. 
 Both houses of Congress had instantly adjourned, 
 and they, and nearly all Washington, gathered in 
 sympathy around my father. He, with one thought 
 in mind, had reached there from the Capitol to find 
 it too late ; it was impossible to save his library or 
 the papers on his chief table — among them part of 
 the manuscripts of the second volume of his Thirty 
 Years in the Senate. My eldest sister, at the risk of 
 her life, tried to gather these, but fell suffocated 
 and would have been lost but for a young Irish 
 groom who ran into the burning room after her 
 and carried her into the air. A defective flue 
 had quietly undermined the room over the 
 library and its floor fell in on thousands of 
 books and papers, etc. ; the smoke was suffoca- 
 ting. First sending her little children into safety, 
 my sister had run down and turned off the gas at 
 the meter — then tried for the manuscript on the 
 library table. But for young Denis she would 
 have died there. Fler forethought prevented ex- 
 plosions and loss of life. 
 
Io6 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 But all was lost. Like a proud ship full freighted, 
 the dear hospitable noble home went down all stand- 
 ing. 
 
 My house was but a few doors from the old 
 home and there we were all gathered, more heart- 
 sore than can be told, when the President came in 
 
 — too moved to be able to speak at first — he could 
 only grasp my father’s hands and choke back his 
 emotion. He had known well what our home was 
 
 — what my mother had been in it — what a friend 
 she had been to him in one turning point in his 
 life. 
 
 He told my father he had been off riding when 
 the news met him, and he had hurried to him stop- 
 ping only at the White House to give the necessary 
 order — “and you will find everjthing ready for 
 you — the library and the bedroom next it, and 
 you must stay there until you rebuild your house.” 
 
 That moved my father from his stern endurance, 
 and the old kind relations returned not to be 
 shaken again. 
 
 I, from the South, had one feeling about the 
 Union. Mr. Pierce had a differing one. It 
 
FAMILY LIFE OF THE WHITE HOUSE. 107 
 
 chanced that I did not meet him again from about 
 the time of that fire, until in the height of our war. 
 I heard some one speaking hardly of him as he 
 left the railway carriage on its coming into a Bos- 
 ton depot — I had not seen him, and it was a chase 
 and a push to catch up with him in the crowded 
 station where, hand in hand, with a thousand home 
 memories crowding on me, I spoke with him for 
 the last time. It is simply impossible to give in 
 this brief way any fair picture of the family life of 
 the Presidents. But it has been such as Ameri- 
 cans can be pleased to feel was in keeping with 
 our national feeling of love and honor for home. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 MRS. MADISON AND MRS. HAMILTON. 
 
 T HAD the good fortune to be in Westminster 
 -I- Abbey and hear Dean Stanley illustrate the 
 Parable of the Talents from the use made of the 
 “ talents ” committed to their keeping by three dis- 
 tinguished men who had just died, and whose lives 
 and deaths connected them with the Abbey — the 
 Marquis of Westminster who had the talents of 
 great family and social power as well as very great 
 wealth, and whose right use of both is known ; Mr. 
 Peabody who also had the trust of great fortune 
 and whose care for the poor of London gained 
 him funeral honors in that historic church. Dean 
 Stanley made you see they had been faithful to 
 their trust. 
 
 His voice changed, however, and you felt how 
 
 personal was the loss he had met in the death of 
 loS 
 
MRS. MADISON AND MRS. HAMILTON, 109 
 
 the third — a clergyman, his brother-priest, and 
 sharer in the sacred offices of religion. His talent 
 had been a voice of such noble meaning and beauty 
 that, the Dean said, it uplifted the hearts of all 
 who had heard him officiating in the Abbey; there 
 was a suggestion that this rare voice would have 
 brought him wealth and fame, but he had chosen 
 to turn from the world and dedicate his powers to 
 God. And then, in his quiet way, the Dean told 
 of the great spiritual good this had led to. 
 
 But “I am nothing,” young people will say; “I 
 have no power, no way, to do great things.” Na- 
 turally, not much while you are but twigs, but you 
 can bend in a good or bad direction. See for 
 yourselves the effect of different lives around you, 
 and question yourself as to what use you are mak- 
 ing of such gifts as you have. Youth in itself is 
 a glorious gift and holds all possibilities. 
 
 Three women come to my mind as illustrations 
 of this parable ; one, as having kept hers “ wrapped 
 in a napkin.” Each of them I knew in her very 
 old age when time had put its stamp and verdict 
 on the result ; ea(;b had large talents entrusted 
 
I lO 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MV TIME. 
 
 to her, and long life and conspicuous position in 
 which to use them. 
 
 Mrs. Madison was one. As the wife of a Presi- 
 dent, and during the stirring war time of 1812, she 
 had a governing position. She had the great gift 
 of healthy beauty, and much clear common sense 
 as well as quick wit ; but her crowning talent was 
 her charm of manners. She had what the French 
 term courtoisie de coeur, as well as the courtesy of 
 form also. This, no selfish person can have. 
 I once hurt the feelings of a ver}' handsome, ad- 
 mired girl by saying no selfish person could have 
 thoroughly good manners ; she was selfish to the 
 bone and knew it, yet had so much good in her 
 that she was not comfortable even when she did 
 have her own way, but it ended in only feeling un- 
 comfortable — not in trying to be different. 
 
 The Empress -Josephine must have had much 
 the same manner as Mrs. Madison. So had 
 Madame Re'camier; I knew intimately well in 
 Paris one of her old French friends who was part 
 of her youth, as welT as of her later days, who gave 
 me a lovable instance of her prompt sympathy. 
 
MRS. MADISON AND MRS. HAMILTON. 
 
 Ill 
 
 I have heard many things, too long to tell here, 
 of Mrs. Madison’s way of receiving in the White 
 House. While she was talking with the more dis- 
 tinguished people her quick eye would mark some 
 shy young man, or nervous-looking woman, not 
 yet used to the society in which she was so natu- 
 rally at home ; after the first part of the reception 
 she always moved about the rooms as a lady would 
 in her own house, and in her own bright natural 
 way said something to any one, especially to these 
 shy and nervous people, which made them glow 
 with the pleased feeling that they were welcome 
 and made to be part of her reception. 
 
 Mrs. Bliss, the daughter of General Taylor, had 
 this same charming nature. With the directness 
 and singleness of her soldier-father she blended 
 a sweet, gentle gayety which those who knew her 
 brother, “ General Dick Taylor,” will feel was a 
 family gift. I was in the Senate from California 
 during her time, and often took to the Presidents 
 “ my constituents,” sometimes people of every 
 merit but unused to formal society, and it was 
 pretty to see how they lost their feeling of being 
 
112 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 on guard and became as natural, and therefore as 
 agreeable to Mrs. Bliss as to myself whom they 
 knew and felt at home with. 
 
 Mrs. Madison’s considerate happy manner out- 
 lasted time and change and many troubles, and 
 made her house in Washington a place where 
 strangers and residents went with pleasure — a 
 shabby house, and the tall handsome old lady in 
 shabby old gowns of velvet or brocade nowise al- 
 tered from the fashion of her days of power. But 
 she was Mrs. Madison. And in the Washington 
 of my younger day name and character outranked 
 appearances. No one questioned her wearing 
 these short-waisted, puff-sleeved, gored velvet 
 gowns, with a muslin neckerchief tucked into 
 the low waist of the gown, and a little India 
 scarf of lovely faded tones over it. A wide and 
 stiff quilling of net rose high around her throat 
 always — and, I fear me, a little rouge and powder 
 were also in use to cover Time’s footsteps ; the bad 
 taste of the day discouraged gray hair, and Mrs. 
 Madison’s dark row of curls was always surmounted 
 by a turban. And with all this she was handsome, 
 
MRS. MADISON AND MRS. HAMILTON. 
 
 ”3 
 
 majestic and simply dignified. And very agreea- 
 ble — with a memory and kind words for every 
 one. 
 
 She dined out often and was the chief person 
 always ; and on New Year’s day her rooms were 
 crowded, for every one who was any one went there 
 across from the President’s. Mrs. Madison owned 
 the house on the northeast corner of Lafayette 
 Square, and Mr. Madison had left her good coun- 
 try property also. But her first marriage gave 
 her a son who brought care and loss upon her ; 
 and at that time there was not, I think, any pen- 
 sion to the widows of Presidents. She had the 
 franking privilege, I know, but that did not carry 
 living e.xpenses free. 
 
 Mr. Madison had a fine estate in Virginia, but in 
 those days of difficult travel he could not go there 
 often, and so his absence caused losses, for the 
 Spanish proverb is true, that “ the master’s foot 
 makes the soil rich.” When he was about leaving 
 Washington he found himself needing five thou- 
 sand dollars more than he had to enable him to 
 discharge every obligation and go home without 
 
SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 II4 
 
 debts. The old salary of twenty-five thousand 
 dollars was at that time made to cover every pos- 
 sible expense of the President’s house ; not as now 
 when the public and private e.xpenses are provided 
 for separately while the salary is doubled. 
 
 The manner of getting this five thousand dollars 
 belongs to a by-gone day and also it belongs in my 
 family which brings it within my telling. A cousin 
 of the President had married my grandmother’s 
 sister (the same who as a little child had been 
 called in by her mother to reassure Gen. Tarleton’s 
 English officers by eating the green peas which 
 they thought were poisoned) and the connection be- 
 came one of friendship as well as by marriage. 
 Our Aunt Madison was left a widow at nineteen, 
 with two little girls ; rich, beautiful and most 
 charming, but she would never re-marr)^ Her 
 eldest brother was Frank Preston of Abingdon, 
 who had every good gift in life and shared them 
 in a large and splendid way. To him the Presi- 
 dent wrote of his need for this five thousand that 
 he might leave Washington without a debt, and 
 enclosed his note. And to him came the money 
 
MRS. MADISON AND MRS. HAMILTON. II5 
 
 immediately — for family pride, state pride, and the 
 universal feeling of mutual support among gentle- 
 men at that day, made any other answer simply 
 impossible. 
 
 Mrs. Madison’s moneyed troubles were telling 
 on her health, and Mr. Buchanan made it his 
 affair to have Congress buy some papers of Mr. 
 Madison’s. The bill lagged as usual, and he only 
 carried it by telling of the needs of the venerable 
 lady and asking that her eightieth birthday, now 
 at hand, should be marked by this act of relief ; 
 which was done. 
 
 Mr. Buchanan and some other friends were 
 named trustees to the sum to secure it from the 
 son, and when she died, not long after, the same 
 guardianship divided it fairly between the son she 
 loved in spite of his unworthiness, and her faithful 
 companion and niece. Miss Dolly Payne. 
 
 A better inheritance, given by nature, came to 
 a great-niece of Mrs. Madison — Adele Coutts — 
 who was fully the equal of her famous aunt in 
 beauty and sweetness of nature, while every charm 
 that polished training and associations can give, 
 
Il6 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 she has gathered. She would have graced the 
 White House had her first husband, Senator Doug- 
 less of Illinois, reached the Presidency. 
 
 Seeing her again but a few years ago, her fresh- 
 ness and added charm surprised me into asking 
 her how she had kept the clock back ? and suffered 
 no change only increase of beauty. “ Because I 
 am happy, I suppose,” she laughed with a lovely 
 blush. 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton, the widow of Alexander Hamil- 
 ton, was in absolute contrast to Mrs. Madison. I 
 know well a portrait of her taken in her early 
 married days, and her own refined self I knew very 
 well in her many visits to Washington quite toward 
 the close of her long, useful, but quiet life. 
 
 Her portrait is in the same room with one of 
 Hamilton. When Tallyrand was their guest he 
 asked for this likeness of Hamilton, and on his re- 
 turn to France had it copied and sending them 
 the copy, kept the original. After Hamilton’s sud- 
 den death, this original was returned to the young 
 widow by the Prince, with a letter so feeling that 
 you rub your eyes after reading the signature 
 
MRS. MADISON AND MRS. HAMILTON. 
 
 117 
 
 with which such different character is associated. 
 
 The letter and portrait are among many histor- 
 ical treasures belonging of right in this home of a 
 Hamilton. There is the portrait of Washington 
 which he had had painted as a gift to Hamilton. It 
 is put up on hinges and turns to any light wanted. 
 It was deeply interesting to turn its serene, repos- 
 ing countenance towards the quick dark young 
 face of Hamilton, and the quiet high-bred young 
 wife as yet untouched by sorrow. Her face is del- 
 icate but full of nerve and spirit ; its long oval is 
 made more long from the hair being brushed back 
 over a high cushion, and the slim throat and long- 
 pointed bodice add to this effect of slender length. 
 The eyes are very dark and hold the life and en- 
 ergy of the restrained face. While the high-cush- 
 ioned hair, the rich dress and conventional attitude 
 tell of the woman of society, there is something 
 deep and strong in the steady eyes and closed 
 mouth which show a character of her own. She 
 had not the beauty of her splendid mother — the 
 wife of General Philip Schuyler, who, rather than 
 let their crops be of use to the advancing English 
 
Il8 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 army (advancing on Saratoga f) herself led her peo- 
 ple in firing them. But the high resolute nature 
 was all there when the young widow found in her 
 own sorrow and her own orphaned children the 
 motive for a life which should lift neglect and sor- 
 row from thousands of children. Her “ talents ” 
 were many; illustrious names and a powerful fam- 
 ily, the tenderest sympathy of a whole nation, and 
 her own pitying loving nature blended with a rare 
 sense of justice — all these she dedicated to the 
 care of orphan children. 
 
 Her grief over her own children took the form 
 of protection of those who were poor and un- 
 friended as well as orphaned. To Mrs. Hamilton 
 is directly owing the first orphan asylum of New 
 York. On its fiftieth anniversary a memorial ser- 
 vice was held in the Church of the Epiphany (in 
 Washington where Mrs. Hamilton then was for 
 the winter) and the work and its greatly extended 
 good were told over. The seed had become a 
 tree with mighty branches. Mrs. Hamilton was 
 feeble and could not sit through the whole sendee, 
 but came only for a part — always, to the commu- 
 
MRS. MADISON AND MRS. HAMILTON. I19 
 
 nion service. . This Sunday she came in toward 
 the close. Our minds and hearts were filled with 
 the good ork of this gentle lady when she en- 
 tered — a very small, upright little figure in deep 
 black, never altered from the time her dark hair 
 was first framed in by the widow’s cap, until now 
 the hair was white as the cap. As she moved 
 slowly forward supported by her daughter, Mrs. 
 Holley, one common feeling made the congregation 
 rise, and remain standing until she was seated in 
 her pew at the front. Mrs. Hamilton, though 
 receiving marked attention, preferred quiet, and 
 returned but few visits. At our house one 
 day a very young girl asked her if the story of 
 “ Miss McCrea ” was true as told in the Parley’s 
 History. And she, in her kind way, told her the 
 story as she knew it at the time — “when I was 
 already a great girl,” she said (she was never that 
 in size). They knew “ poor Jane ” ; and her father 
 was so alarmed by the killing of Miss McCrea, 
 that her mother and herself were not allowed to 
 come to him — from Saratoga to Albany — until 
 he could send them a strong escort. 
 
120 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME, 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton retained her activity to great 
 age. When I first lived on the Hudson River, 
 quite near her son’s home, it was still remembered 
 how the old lady — past eighty — would leave the 
 train at a way station and climb two fences in her 
 short cut across meadows rather than go on to the 
 town where the carriage could meet her. It was 
 a delightfully historical house. Such an old, old 
 serving man opened the door and ushered you 
 into the square hall where the family tradition of 
 service to the country met your eye in a fine life- 
 size portrait by Staigg, of a great grandson — a 
 young officer in blue uniform, with his cap pushed 
 back, and showing the same dark eyes of controled 
 energy. 
 
 And the tradition of good works too goes on. 
 Louisa Lee Schuyler has been given a controlling 
 part in the State Charities and Reforms and, with 
 the aid of modem conviction on the necessity of 
 being your “brother’s keeper,” has wide scope in 
 carrj’ing out ideas begun so quietly long ago by 
 her noble great-grandmother. 
 
 And now for “ the talent hidden in the napkin.” 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE TALENT IN THE NAPKIN. 
 
 W HEN the Government built a broad macad- 
 amized highway to connect the Ohio river 
 and “ western ” travel with Washington, it was con- 
 sidered so fine a work that it was named “ The 
 National Road,” and the public men connected 
 with it made much reputation, and the contractors 
 great fortunes. 
 
 The wife of one of these used to come for the 
 winters to Washington, driving from her home near 
 Wheeling in her coach-and-four. After the death 
 of her husband she came less often and in dimin- 
 ished state, but always with conscious importance. 
 
 She had special interest in me, and always 
 repeated for me the story of her saving my 
 life : how I, as a three-year-old child, had (on 
 our way to St. Louis) been seized with such a 
 
 I2I 
 
122 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 violent attack of croup that my father had turned 
 off the highroad into the nearest house — which 
 was hers ; how she instantly ran with me to where 
 some boiling water was being used and gave me 
 the saving hot bath — and how our people rested 
 with her until it was again safe to take me on the 
 journey. From which came our established atten- 
 tions to Mrs. Crugar whenever she was in Wash- 
 ington. 
 
 Although she was not a congenial person she 
 had a very clear mind, w'as remarkably well-up in na- 
 tional matters, and understood the reasons for our 
 country’s development. She was otherwise w'ell- 
 read also; but singularly without any sympathies. 
 She had had no children, and though a ver}' old 
 woman w'hen I w'as first grown she was perfectly 
 healthy and hard and clear. 
 
 She had passed out of my mind until w^e were in 
 Wheeling (West Virginia) in the early days of the 
 war, w’here I had the surprise to learn she was still 
 living and as clear-headed as ever though quite a 
 hundred years old. 
 
 Her resolute living alone, with no one at all in 
 
THE TALENT IN THE NAPKIN. 
 
 123 
 
 her house — even all servants locked out at sunset 
 — had given ground to certain distant relations to 
 petition for a guardian to protect her and her prop- 
 erty. The old lady asked to come into open court 
 and prove her capacity. She came off with flying 
 colors. It was made sure she was not only dis- 
 tinct as regarded the past, but as her memory of 
 passing events was questioned she triumphantly 
 told the Judge of a business-scandal with which 
 his family name had lately been associated, and 
 was let to go her own way unmolested. 
 
 We were told it was a risk to make the visit, for 
 she was a few miles out of town, in a hilly country ; 
 but I was in a light carriage, and accompanied by 
 the General and a party of officers on horseback ; 
 men who knew how to look out and what to do if 
 attacked. 
 
 It was lovely May weather and everything in 
 beauty, but no work was going on, for all the men 
 were in one or the other army ; you can’t think how 
 sad it is to see war in possession of homesteads. 
 
 Coming out of the high, close hills, we crossed 
 a gay sparkling river and found ourselves in the 
 
124 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 meadows belonging to “ The Stone House.” All 
 roads and paths were lost in the unchecked growth 
 of many years and the long grasses smothered the 
 sounds of wheels and horses as we drove quite up 
 to the door. A long-closed door. The broad slabs 
 of stone making its once handsome steps had sunk 
 like old gravestones and lay awrj' upon each other. 
 
 It was a well-built house of dressed stone, veiy^ 
 large and solid, with the usual detached kitchen 
 and long row of “negro quarters.” From these 
 poured out a shining-faced, fat, smiling black crowd 
 — old and young — scary young ones holding on to 
 their mammies and peeping around at our group of 
 uniformed officers — “ Linkum’s sojers.” They 
 scattered so when first spoken to that I followed 
 up a woman with a heavy baby and made her com- 
 prehend we only wanted to see Mrs. Crugar. 
 
 “ Ole Mis’ ? ” 
 
 “ Yes. Go in and take this card. Tell her she 
 saved my life when I was a baby and had croup 
 mighty bad, and I want to see her.” 
 
 She was afraid to venture in but we made her, 
 and she ran back, radiant ; we were to come in. 
 
THE TALENT IN THE NAPKIN. 1 25 
 
 Going back to the front door we found “ Ole 
 Mis’ ” had had it unlocked for us and the slanting 
 sun sent its yellow light upon the thick, thick dust 
 of the broad long hall. 
 
 In a large library lined with books we found, 
 seated there, the old lady, who knew perfectly all 
 about me and understood why armed men rode 
 down her glen. She talked wonderfully of the con- 
 ditions that caused the war and of one inevitable 
 result ; but all with no interest or feeling, merely 
 knowledge. 
 
 She was carefully dressed in rich black satin 
 with a cap of beautiful old yellowed lace, with its 
 big bows of orange and red ribbons on top, and 
 broad strings of the same tied under her chin ; 
 the inevitable false hair, dark, was framed in with 
 rich lace quillings. Her age told in the skin of 
 face and hands which were like crimped parch- 
 ment, but the lips were firm, and the eyes, deep-set 
 in wrinkled lids, were still dark and keen. 
 
 She had in her hand a volume of the Spectator^ 
 which she said was writing she liked. Her old 
 books were the only kind she cared for. “ But I 
 
126 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MV TIME. 
 
 know all that’s going on,” she said ; “ I take a New 
 York daily paper (the Trihwie it was, as we saw by 
 the pile on the table beside her) and the Wheeling 
 paper. And when she wanted other information, “ I 
 send for my lawyer.” 
 
 She never left the house and let no one come 
 into it but for her few personal wants by day. 
 Broths, eggs and milk, made her food ; a bowl of 
 milk and some bread was beside her on a small 
 table — her regular supper she said, after which, 
 at six o’clock, she locked the door and remained 
 quite alone all night. 
 
 “ But,” I asked, “ suppose you are ill "i ” 
 
 Well, but I never am. Maybe you think I 
 might die here all alone ? So I might. But I have 
 been alive over a hundred years and my time must 
 come — and I might as well be alone then for no- 
 body can keep it off.” 
 
 She remembered her duties as hostess and said 
 it might please “ the young people ” to go up stairs ; 
 there was a ballroom there and they might dance 
 if they liked. “ It’s twenty-five years since I cared 
 to go up there,” she said. “ Sometimes I send the 
 
THE TALENT IN THE NAPKIN. 
 
 127 
 
 women up to clean but I don’t know if they do.” 
 
 (She looked after them with some interest then 
 said, disapprovingly, “ They are fine young men to 
 be throwing their lives away.”) 
 
 The young people found it so curious that they 
 made me go up. The ballroom was across the 
 whole front of the house, with many windows and 
 a handsome carved marble fireplace at each end 
 and deep closets either side of these fireplaces. 
 
 Like Queen Elizabeth, Mrs. Crugar would seem 
 to have kept all her fine clothes. The whole walls 
 were hung thick with dresses of silk and satin and 
 velvet, “pelisses” trimmed with fur, braided rid- 
 ing habits, and elaborately trimmed mantles of 
 queer rich damasked black silks ; while the clos- 
 ets had endless bonnets and caps and turbans — 
 those bonnets of tremendous size and fine leghorn 
 straw costing from fifty to a hundred dollars, and 
 their veils to the knee of fine old English lace ; 
 gold and silver India muslin and fine gold em- 
 broidered cashmere turbans. Such things made 
 a museum of fashions from about 1820 to 1840. 
 Then seclusion had set in. 
 
128 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 There were treasures of good lace in shawls and 
 lace veils of great length — lovely things for front 
 breadths. Some were in old English Honiton, a 
 charming refined lace ; large capes with long sash- 
 ends, in fine French needlework on muslin, and 
 frilled richly with yards upon yards of Mechlin or 
 spidery Brussels lace ; and there was a shawl and 
 some flounces of yellowed Spanish blonde which it 
 was distracting to see unused. Some India scarfs 
 were left — we fancied the shawls might have gone 
 to the negro quarters. 
 
 The air of the room was still and dead — only 
 light ever penetrated there. Adjoining was a bed- 
 room with all things in perfect order — to the eye. 
 The plump high feather bed and pillows had their 
 fine time-stained old linen, and on the toilet ta- 
 ble which had the usual dimity cover and hangings 
 was a large pincushion. One of the officers acci- 
 dently rested his hand on this when to his shock it 
 crumbled into flatness. 
 
 The world astir outside — civil war in full pro- 
 gress — here the silence of the grave before death. 
 
 It seemed inhuman to leave her so. She said 
 
THE TALENT IN THE NAPKIN. 1 29 
 
 we had best start, that we had four miles of hilly 
 road and the country not safe ; “ and it’s time for 
 me to get to bed.” But as we looked back through 
 the sunset at the silent house and pictured that 
 solitary old figure putting itself away for the night, 
 we asked ourselves if that life was worth living? 
 And, by way of answer, above the ringing trot of 
 the horses and clank of “ sabre and spur,” rose 
 cheerfully a round young voice singing out his fa- 
 vorite German war-song — 
 
 The bullets ring — 
 
 The riders shout 1 
 
 We ride where Death is lying. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 WESTWARD,” HOME, 
 
 HIS “National” Road was after all only a 
 
 broad macadamized turnpike from Wash- 
 ington to Wheeling where it met the Ohio and 
 connected with all river navigation, down to New 
 Orleans, and up to St. Louis and beyond; but to 
 us it was vastly more than a road, for it was full of 
 pleasures belonging to itself, and others that it led 
 
 to. 
 
 St. Louis was so far that although my father went 
 there every year the family could onl}' go out on 
 the alternate years when Congress adjourned in 
 March. Now, one need give no thought to the 
 two-days-ride in a Pullman buffet car. Then it 
 was a matter of two-weeks-time, and many other 
 considerations ; the stage of water in the Upper 
 Ohio being a deciding one. Also the return had 
 
WESTWARD,” HOME. 
 
 to be timed to avoid the keen cold of the Cumber- 
 land Mountains. So that the years we could only 
 leave Washington in June we went to Virginia to 
 my grandfather’s place near Lexington ; and 
 while the grown-up people went to the White Sul- 
 phur Springs, I had the most ideal happy country- 
 time alone with my grandmother. 
 
 Everything was so fixed and unchanging in that 
 Virginia life that our constant travelling — though 
 only at regular periods and between our homes in 
 Washington to St. Louis, and the old home in Vir- 
 ginia — was in some way held almost as a reproach 
 and matter for sympathy among the stay-at-home 
 friends and relations. “ They never did so.” What 
 people do not do themselves, whether from choice, 
 or because they have had no chance to try, often 
 seems to them a thing that is wrong to do. Hans 
 Andersen has a telling little story on this : “ Five 
 little peas lived in a pod ; the Pod was green and 
 so were they.” They went out to see the world and 
 came back disgusted. “ It was all different from 
 what they were used to — even the sky was blue, not 
 green like theirs in the pod.” 
 
132 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 We were well shaken out of our pod, I assure 
 you, by all the varied life we led. And our sky was 
 very blue and the sweet mountain winds deliciously 
 exhilarating as we bowled along this fine road 
 among the beds of blue mountains in the early 
 spring. In sheltered nooks the green of early 
 wheat and the pink of peach trees would make a 
 lovely little picture, but the road led mainly among 
 stern pine forests and upland wastes of stony 
 lands. Great inns — “taverns” was the homely 
 name — made the night stations, but solitude was 
 the governing feature. There was life enough in 
 our own little party. 
 
 My father would see that we had one of the best 
 “ reserved ” coaches, while the heavy baggage was 
 sent ahead. Our coach would be packed at our 
 door in Washington, with such things as children 
 might need for a week ; for we only travelled from 
 after breakfast until late afternoon ; it was not 
 changed, but we had fresh horses ever}' ten miles 
 as the mail stage had. It was most comfortable, 
 delightful “ posting.” Iviy father who loved horses 
 would often drive, and usually sat outside ; and if 
 
“westward,” home. 
 
 133 
 
 we were very good we earned the privilege of “ sit- 
 ting by the driver ” and seeing the four eager 
 horses dash away as the black stable-men jumped 
 back when they loosed their heads and cheered 
 them off ; that excitement over, came the talk of 
 “upsets” and robbers and snowstorms — the lit- 
 erature of the stage-coach period. 
 
 Once on the Ohio, the ‘■''Belle Riviere'' as its 
 French explorers and masters fondly named it, a 
 foreign atmosphere began to be felt. Life seemed 
 easier and more gay already, than in the strictly 
 English atmosphere of Virginia which also gov- 
 erned in Washington. 
 
 Already in Louisville, where we would stay over 
 for a brief visit to relations, the talk was of their 
 winter visits to New Orleans, and the Paris fash- 
 ions, and the theatres and Mardi-gras and other 
 festivities ; and the very names of the servants 
 were from what our black nurse with her Virginia 
 prejudices called “ that heathen talk ” {French). 
 That “ Mis’ Maria ” should tolerate such a 
 “ heathen ” name as Polydore for her butler greatly 
 offended “ aunt ” Sarah’s sense of right. 
 
134 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 They have found in Australia that by planting 
 common white clover on the border of the native 
 grasses surely and steadily the clover will “ eat out ” 
 even the deeprooted native grasses and substitute 
 its own little encroaching obstinate self ; and so 
 with English gravity and “ decorum.” It has con- 
 quered and eaten out ever)- trace of the French 
 life which still remained and flourished in my early 
 day and made of New Orleans and St. Louis places 
 as positively “ foreign ” then as any seaport and 
 provincial town in France can be to-day. 
 
 The older people would not forgive France for 
 giving them up to such antagonistic conditions, 
 and generally they refused even to learn English. 
 It was avrfully hard on them. They were French, 
 Catlrolic, and Royalists. By a scratch of the pen 
 they were made one with all they had so long 
 hated in the English, and to that was added our 
 republican wiping out of all social distinctions. 
 No wonder that in their ideas the tenn American 
 included all evils, all disturbances, and increasing 
 surprises of annoyance — including whole crops of 
 American sons-in-law and grandchildren. 
 
WESTWARD,” HOME. 
 
 135 
 
 Sallow-faced, tawny-haired, with laughing black 
 eyes, these young French- Americans were delight- 
 ful gay playmates, and a great change from our 
 English-fashioned young friends across the moun- 
 tains. Language, customs, prejudices, cookery — 
 all was as French here as the other was English. 
 
 Although St. Louis was not more than a petite 
 ville in numbers, yet it had great interests and had 
 a stirring life, much of which revolved about my 
 father, who was the connecting link and powerful 
 friendly intermediary between these interests and 
 the Government. 
 
 General Clarke, of Lewis-and-Clarke exploring 
 fame, was ending his days quietly in St. Louis 
 where he had charge of all Indian affairs for 
 that whole region ; a distinguished-looking white- 
 haired man who understood his trust and governed 
 kindly and wisely. 
 
 When Washington Irving was out there a war- 
 dance was held in the large council yard that he 
 might see real Indians at their real life. I was 
 very young, and the whole horrible thing, as they 
 grew excited, threw me into a panic. A tall strong 
 
136 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 kind-faced young officer, married to a favorite 
 cousin of my mother’s, carried me off and com- 
 forted me. He too is of the past, and it was his 
 kind thought for his soldiers that cost his life. Had 
 he kept his surgeon near himself. General Albert 
 Sidney Johnston would not have bled to death from 
 the wound he received at Shiloh. 
 
 St. Louis was on the border of an immense and 
 almost unexplored Indian countiy*. The caravans 
 of merchandise going through it to Santa Fe ran 
 all the risks you ever read of among Bedouins on 
 the desert ; the hunters and trappers, as well as the 
 merchants, started off into the unknown with only 
 the one certainty — that danger was there ; and 
 when they came back — if they did — it was as 
 from underworld. Jefferson Barracks below St. 
 Louis was a large and important militaiy post 
 which was kept busy enough. It ended much hard 
 Indian warfare when they at last captured Black 
 Hawk. I saw him when he was a prisoner at the 
 Garrison — a real Indian and real old warrior, cap- 
 tive but not subdued. 
 
 The governing religion was of course Catholic 
 
“westward,” home. 137 
 
 as this had been so lately a French possession 
 and its chief people were the French settlers who 
 were also the chief traders in furs. Priests and 
 Sisters of Charity in their special black dress 
 were everywhere in the streets, so were the army 
 officers in service-worn uniforms, and the French 
 peasant women wore, as in France, their thick 
 white caps, sabots and full red petticoats with big 
 blue or yellow handkerchiefs crossed over the white 
 bodices ; and with the Indians painted and blank- 
 eted gliding along in files towards the enclosure 
 around General Clarke’s quarters one would have 
 been puzzled to say whose country it was now. On 
 the levee negro boat-hands sang wild chants as 
 they “ loaded-uja ” ; but already keen-featured, 
 sallow men were going quietly but alertly in and 
 out of warehouses, and council yard and fur trad- 
 ing houses — “ white clover” which ate its way into 
 possession of the pear-orchards and made them 
 town lots, and built square ugly meeting-houses 
 near the cathedral, and married the French girls, 
 and generally changed the face of St. Louis 
 “ French ” nature. 
 
SOUVENIRS OF MV TIME. 
 
 >3S 
 
 The houses were built in the Creole way ; a court- 
 yard surrounded by a four- sided house with broad gal- 
 leries all round, which sat peacefully in the midst 
 of trees and gardens and orchards on the gentle 
 slope looking to the wide muddy torrent of the 
 Mississippi and the flat green plain beyond of 
 “the Illinois.” There was only one “main” 
 street — ver}' village-like and not over a mile long. 
 The dwelling-houses were placed just where they 
 preferred without regard to any future plan. The 
 Bishop’s garden and the Cathedral (where was the 
 appalling picture of St. Bartholomew) were on a 
 handsome scale, but bordered by little alleys of 
 roughly-paved short streets. From these, by a 
 garden gate in a high wall, you could go in to a 
 great garden which was part lawn and part orchard, 
 and well oil from the street would be the large 
 quiet house with polished inlaid floors and hand- 
 some, old mahogany furniture. They lived a most 
 comfortable and unceremonious life among them- 
 selves and were friendly and hospitable to those 
 they felt to be friends, but, apart from the chosen 
 few, had open antipathy to “ dose American." 
 
WESTWARD,” HOME. 
 
 139 
 
 As in France, the young people in marrying did 
 not go from home but had a part of the large house 
 assigned them, and three generations under one 
 roof seemed to blend smoothly in the family whole. 
 There are some charming stories by a daughter 
 of Guizot, Madame de Witt, and by Madame 
 Charles Reybaud (who writes also of family life) 
 which gave peaceful pictures cf this way of 
 living, not known to English peoples. 
 
 Growing up in its midst, I felt at home in all 
 French domestic ideas vdien I lived in France ; 
 and Hamerton is right in his praise of many of its 
 good aspects. 
 
 My father they knew to be their comprehending 
 and earnest friend ; Tami cies Franfais was their 
 name for him, and his personal relations with his 
 many clients in both New Orleans and St. Louis 
 were warm and true on both sides. 
 
 They had been badly treated in the matter of 
 land titles ; it is the habit of our Government to 
 disregard its treaties with helpless peoples, as we 
 saw repeated in California, 
 
 Quite in the beginning of our war Prince Napo- 
 
140 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 leon came out to St. Louis. He was deeply in- 
 terested in our military movements, more espe- 
 cially those to be carried through this Western 
 country. He could not be comforted for the loss 
 to France of this noble territorj'. It was very in- 
 teresting to see him on this ground. His remark- 
 able likeness to the great Napoleon gave a curious 
 historical effect to his talk. He had but the one 
 day to give to St Louis and was to visit the troops, 
 their camps and barracks and hospitals — all a 
 soldier comprehends as essential to successful 
 work. The first visit of course was made by the 
 General who had sent to ask when he would re- 
 ceive him, sending also his Chief of Staff to let 
 the Prince know what there was to be seen in mil- 
 itary preparations, etc. The General’s brief visit 
 made, the Prince returned it within the hour, 
 when he found a large mounted escort waiting 
 him at Headquarters, to go ever3nvhere with him. 
 Not an empty form, for the strength of the coun- 
 try there was against our side. But the Prince 
 forgot his brief time and the waiting guard, for af- 
 ter the first politenesses he squared himself round 
 
“westward,” home. 141 
 
 to the General and began with what was on his 
 heart : “ Comment mon oncle at'il pu se defaire d'un 
 tel E7npire ? ” * and became so engrossed in this sub- 
 ject that he forgot all else and it was some time 
 before he broke off. 
 
 Except in height, the likeness to his uncle, when 
 Emperor, was exact, and it seemed almost as 
 though the old Napoleon were rebuking himself 
 as he realized the empire given away. 
 
 If you will take the map of our country and look 
 up what the French held in the time of Bonaparte, 
 you will understand something of the feeling with 
 which the nephew now looked on this magnificent 
 heritage lost to France. 
 
 * How could my uncle have deprived himself of such an Empire ? 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 SAINT LOUIS. 
 
 C OMING back to Saint I.ouis always in spring- 
 time, even after the mild winters of Wash- 
 ington the contrast was charming. The Potomac 
 was a wide and beautifully blue river, but it did 
 nothing, and was nothing more than a feature in 
 the landscape, while here the tawny swift Missis- 
 sippi was stirring with busy life, and the little city 
 itself, was animated from its thronged river-bank 
 out through to the Indian camps on the rolling 
 prairie back of the town. 
 
 And it was such an embowered fragrant place 
 in that season ; the thickets of wild plum and the 
 wild crab-apples which covered the prairie em- 
 balmed the air, and everywhere was the honey- 
 scent of the locust. What the elm is to some New 
 England towns the locust was to Saint Louis ; the 
 
 142 
 
SAINT LOUIS. 
 
 143 
 
 narrow streets were bordered by them and they 
 were repeated everywhere. My father had an 
 affection for this tree and had planted a great 
 many about his house when he first settled there 
 — long before he was married. In my young day 
 these were fine large trees. A line of them made 
 a delicate green screen to the wide galleries which 
 ran the length of the house, on both stories, and 
 their long clusters of vanilla-scented blooms made 
 part of our home-memories. Years after, in Cali- 
 fornia, this delicate intangible link made a curious 
 adventure for me 'wnth a person no one ever con- 
 nected before with any good or gentle idea. It is 
 a severe pull on my natural tendency to digress not 
 to tell it now, but I will “ in its place,” for it shows 
 how loyally my father was remembered by old 
 Missourians. 
 
 Not only did the blossoming town seem en fete, 
 but everybody seemed light and gay, and my father, 
 freed from the official and exacting life of Wash- 
 ington, reverted to his cheerful out-door life. 
 The long gallery of the parlor-floor was his place 
 when at home, even if light rains were falling. He 
 
144 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME, 
 
 never breathed in-door air when he could be, head 
 uncovered, in a bath of sunshine. His “ settee ” 
 and a table, and “ a colony of chairs ” for others, 
 made his favorite settlement, where the early light 
 breakfast of coffee and bread and fruit was taken 
 • — by any number who might chance to come, I 
 7iever heard the word ‘‘^trouble" applied to house- 
 hold arrangements. For all we knew, everything 
 grew ready to be served. 
 
 The day begins early in warm climates, and from 
 early morning on, there was a coming and going of 
 varied but all welcome friends. There came gov- 
 erning citizens to talk of political affairs. Much 
 had to be only jjersonal information in those days 
 before railways and telegrajDhs, and -when the plans 
 of an administration were only talked over confi- 
 dentially with its friends. The father of Mrs. 
 Grant was one of my father’s old friends and polit- 
 ical allies of that time. General Grant honored 
 himself by the honor and thoughtful attention he 
 always gave to this venerable man who was a con- 
 spicuous figure in the Presidential receptions. Af- 
 ter I had made my respects to the President and 
 
SAINT LOUIS. 
 
 H5 
 
 Mrs. Grant, one or the other would be sure to say, 
 “Now step back here and talk to Mr. Dent” — 
 who always kept me sitting by him on his sofa, talk- 
 ing of my father and telling of the great contests 
 they had gone through together ; and when his 
 memory failed calling me only “ Mrs. Benton,” 
 but always lighting up with pleased remembrances. 
 
 There, too, came officers of the army. My father 
 was their comprehending friend. Himself an old 
 officer, and for twenty years Chairman of the Sen- 
 ate Military Committee, he was their sure and in- 
 telligent friend. With both knowledge and good 
 will, such a position can be made of the utmost 
 advantage to the service, as well as of personal ad- 
 vantage to officers. The certainty of sympathy 
 and proper official aid never failed those who came 
 to him. He was practically the Secretary of War 
 in all those years, for he was a fixture while a 
 Secretary is only a political accident, and in the 
 War and Navy Departments usually quite ignorant 
 of the personal as well as of the special require- 
 ments of service. Through such ignorance much 
 injustice can be done, but in all my long knowl- 
 
146 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 edge of Washington, I have known of but one 
 Secretary who found actual pleasure in giving pain 
 to officers and in thwarting all personal feelings, 
 even family feelings. 
 
 The French neighbors enjoyed coming for their 
 chat, and invariably brought some fine fruit or 
 flower for Madame, who fully appreciated both 
 the kindly feeling and the fine skilful cultivation. 
 
 There too came many priests who were soldiers 
 in their missionary work, and had as stirring ad- 
 ventures to relate as the trappers and hunters who 
 knew they were always welcome to my father. 
 
 And often, gliding past into my mother’s rooms, 
 would come the good Sister Elizabeth on active 
 duty for her hospital — going away with a basket 
 of useful things and many a solid piece of money 
 from those on the galler}’, with a “permettez via 
 sceur ” and a warm “ Bon jour, via saur ” from 
 every one. 
 
 Two friends of my father’s were specially inter- 
 esting to me. One a Spanish officer and gmtieman, 
 in the fullest meaning, who had seiwed under Well- 
 ington in Spain ; the other who was already a cap- 
 
SAINT LOUIS. 
 
 147 
 
 tain in the French army when Waterloo broke it 
 up. Col. Gamier was much the elder. He had 
 accepted his exile and its resulting poverty and 
 sufferings with silent dignity. My father had a 
 good knowledge of Spanish, but he always tried to 
 add improvement to all his knowledge, and Col. 
 Garniet and himself had a Spanish talking-lesson 
 daily. He taught us our Spanish also. My father 
 thought we ought to know the language of our 
 near neighbor, Mexico, with whom closer relations 
 must come. I was a great favorite with Col. Gar- 
 nier. Some fancied resemblance to a little sister, 
 won for me his kindest voice and the name of 
 “ Rosita.” Usually he took the early coffee with 
 my father, and if Judge Lawless (once Captain 
 Lawless) joined them as he often did, then their 
 talk was sure to fall on the Peninsular war. A sign 
 would send me in for the maps and the box of pins 
 — beeswax heads for the Spanish troops, red wax 
 for the English, and for the French, black. 
 
 Never was that discussion ended. Not only day 
 after day, but summer after summer, did those three 
 move those pins that put the troops in differing 
 
148 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 positions, and proved “ what might have been ; ” 
 but never did either of the three convince the other. 
 For hours they would be at it ; generally the heat 
 of discussion would be stopped by my mother’s 
 sending out an iced watermelon or a great basket 
 of fruit which was a signal they understood. Her 
 feeling was English — without discussion. My fa- 
 ther’s mother used to say to us, “Your mother is 
 English ; and she has the English genius for home 
 comfort.” 
 
 This grandmother was one of our returning 
 pleasures in going back to Saint Louis where she had 
 lived chiefly after my father’s going there. She was 
 more English than my mother in nearness to the 
 mother- countrv', but she had a singularly large un- 
 prejudiced view of things, and had outlived every 
 personal interest except in my father and a few 
 of her grandchildren. Both her father and hus- 
 band were English — both scholarly men and mis- 
 fits in a new country'. My Grandfather Benton’s 
 library in Greek, Latin, French, Spanish and Eng- 
 lish, had been his joy while he lived and made the 
 atmosphere in which my father grew up — guided 
 
SAINT LOUIS. 
 
 149 
 
 by his mother and his father’s close friend, a cler- 
 gyman, like himself an Oxford man, who put my 
 father at his Greek Testament when he was but 
 eight; at which age my grandfather’s death left 
 him the eldest son in a family of seven children. 
 
 My father has told me of the awe and singular 
 feeling of loss of youth that fell on him when, after 
 his father’s death and a long illness which came 
 on his mother, he was taken in to see her. 
 
 She was about thirty; a very tall slender woman 
 with blue eyes that never lost their steady clear- 
 ness. And, as all the Hart family, she had splendid 
 long, thick, waving, auburn-brown hair. In her 
 six weeks’ illness this had changed to a silvery 
 white — which, with her white and thinned face, 
 so alarmed my father that he ran into a grove near 
 by when he came out, and “ had to war with him- 
 self to accept that shadow as his mother.” Nearly 
 all her children died young ; of rapid consumption, 
 as their father had died ; and the silent grief with 
 which my grandmother bore her eighty-three years 
 of life invested her with a dignity none intruded 
 on. She had her wing in my father’s house, and 
 
‘ 5 ° 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MV TIME. 
 
 her own old servants who knew her ways. A fall 
 on the ice and a badly-set leg crippled her and 
 caused keen suffering from rheumatisms for the 
 last years of her life, but her powerful clear in- 
 quiring mind made books a great solace. 
 
 * Our Virginia grandmother, with her unbroken 
 domestic life, her active health and child’s heart 
 for simple pleasures, was just the opposite to my 
 Grandmother Benton, who could not tolerate our 
 sewing. “ it is not good for your chest,” she would 
 say ; and “ you should never waste your time, do- 
 ing what an uneducated person can do better 
 for you.” 
 
 One of her few pleasures was to have her hair 
 brushed. This remained thick and long ; so long 
 that the thick plait reached nearly to the knee. 
 When coiled around her head it filled the crown of 
 the “ mob-cap,” as the widow’s cap of that day was 
 called, leaving only space for the band of black 
 crape back of the narrow crimped ruffles. It was a 
 pleasure to her and a privilege to me to let down and 
 brush and smooth out this beautiful hair, and to 
 hear her talk. Her e.xtensive reading made all 
 
SAINT LOUIS. 
 
 151 
 
 countries familiar to her. She made on me, even 
 as a young child, the effect of being above other 
 people. And though she died when I was but thir- 
 teen I have kept the realization of a lofty and 
 great soul. I know that my father and his near- 
 est friends very often referred questions to her and 
 deferred to her calm wisdom and unprejudiced per- 
 ceptions. 
 
 In Washington all our lessons wer'e had at home 
 but my father did the important part of appointing 
 studies and preparing us for our teachers, making 
 broad and lucid what they might have left as “par- 
 rot-ing,” as he expressed it. Here in Saint Louis 
 we were let to go to school ; chiefly for the practice 
 in French among other children. 
 
 It makes me smile to look back at that word 
 “ school ” which had not the first idea of studies, 
 of punctuality, or discipline attached to it as I 
 knew it. The going there each morning was as 
 good as playing truant. Nei<er could it happen 
 that children of any position left the house alone, 
 or even together. We were big girls of eight anl 
 ten and every one knew us, and the distance was 
 
152 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 only a short mile between houses and grounds of 
 friends ; but to go without a maid was never 
 dreamed of. We should have greatly preferred 
 our French nurse, Madeleine, but she was not suf- 
 ficiently important for such duty. Our mother’s 
 maid, “ aunt ” Sara, was. She had been trained 
 from her youth up for her post — as was the South- 
 ern custom — and understood “manners.” Erect, 
 silent, holding a hand of each, she drilled us in 
 manners as we went along. When we passed the 
 small house of M’ame Desiree where she in very 
 negligee loose gown patted her muslins on the 
 sunny gallery, we had to stop if she spoke to us. 
 
 M’ame Desiree was the clear-starcher and fine- 
 muslin genius of Saint Louis ; too fat now, but still 
 a most handsome quadroon who had a gay word 
 for every passer-by. M’ame Saraah was a crony of 
 hers, and when she would give us the good day and 
 praise our neatness and good condition (as all due 
 to M’ame Saraah !) we had to wait and listen po- 
 litely : “You can’t hurry her, because she is a poor 
 working woman and it would hurt her feelings ” — 
 aunt Sara had never heard the words, but her con- 
 
SAINT LOUIS. 
 
 IS3 
 
 viction was that “ Time was made for slaves,” and 
 not for little young ladies. 
 
 Then the garden doors of many pleasant enclos- 
 ures would be open and, the various Madame Au- 
 gustes or Madame Caddys* would be out in the 
 fresh of the morning and the ladies themselves — 
 also in most easy negligee — going about their 
 grounds. If they saw us we would be called in and 
 cette bonne Sara asked after Madame and praised 
 for her petites. And with deliberation (time no 
 object), some pretty fruit would be chosen for us 
 and we would recommence our walk to stop again 
 and again ; for, “ Madame Auguste is a lady and 
 you can’t hurry her ” — in fact, there was no hurry 
 anywhere. 
 
 When we did reach the school we were consigned 
 to Madame Savary who did not teach, but who 
 looked after us; a small vivacious Swiss-French- 
 woman with a mania for making preserves and do- 
 ing fine sewing. Monsieur Savary was capable of 
 far more than was required of him. I think he 
 
 ♦ The younger sons were usually called Cadet as the descriptive addition 
 to the Pierre or Auguste or what not : the Americans got this into “ Cad- 
 dy,” and “ Mr, Caddy ” and “ Madame Caddy ” hardened into use from 
 repetition. 
 
154 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 had put away his pride and resigned himself to 
 what he could, not what he would, do. He was a 
 spare tall man with Hat black hair and gold spec- 
 tacles and always wore a short-waisted very long 
 and full-skirted frock coat of gray, with collar and 
 cuffs of black velvet, a sort of uniform for teach- 
 ers wliich you often see in old-fashioned French 
 illustrations. He was quiet, gentle and forbearing, 
 and had need to be so as there were about thirty 
 girls, from six to sixteen — of course not a fraction 
 of a boy in a French school — and not one with 
 any intentions of study or habit of discipline ; 
 good-natured enough, but trying. They may 
 have learned something. We were there only for 
 easy handling of familiar French ; and except some 
 spelling, and reading aloud in Telcviachus, I do 
 not recall anything of lessons. But I won honors 
 in whipping ruffles and hemming handkerchiefs for 
 Madame Savary, and what was really important 
 was when we, the younger ones, were permitted to 
 help her make preserves. If a quantity of straw- 
 berries or currants were sent to her all hands 
 turned in to prepare them. For the object my 
 
SAINT LOUIS. 
 
 iSS 
 
 father had in view, it was more useful than reading 
 from a book and vastly better for health than sitting 
 still on a bench ; for we adjourned, we young ones 
 I mean, to the inevitable gallery, or the garden 
 which was on the bluff overlooking the river. By 
 one o’clock aunt Sara had come for us to go home 
 and as this was our dinner hour we made no de- 
 lays. 
 
 In French schools Thursday is the holiday. Sat- 
 urday and Sunday, they think, make too much 
 holiday together. But to us Americans the Sun- 
 day was not a holiday in their sense, where after 
 mass all their children were taken around among 
 their elder relations and it was a family fete-day. 
 
 We did not go on Saturdays to school. That 
 day our mother had us get our Sunday-school les- 
 sons with her — telling us many interesting things 
 and making them, as all our home lessons were, 
 a real pleasure and improvement. Our Sunday 
 dresses were decided on and each thing reviewed 
 and put in order that no delay might come. All 
 our dolls and toys and weekday story-books were 
 put away until Monday ; and then we had as wild 
 
SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 *56 
 
 a play as big grounds and good health and early 
 youth could give. In this our French nurse Mad- 
 eleine was a great factor ; she was so gay and 
 knew such beautiful songs and danced such queer 
 dances in her pretty carved sabots that we doted 
 on her. 
 
 Her family had come away from France, from near 
 Bordeaux, because of the cholera. French people 
 do not like to leave their country, the women 
 especially, and these were well-to-do farming peo- 
 ple. But the horror of cholera was on them and 
 they came to New Orleans. There they found the 
 climate would not let them work in the fields and 
 they would have to buy slaves. So they came on 
 up the river to the free State of Illinois, and 
 bought a fine farm just across from Saint Louis. 
 There, as the old man said, his own large family, 
 girls and boys — could all work and his and their 
 delight in the rich earth and easy ploughing was 
 great. He had great pride in his vegatables and 
 melons, and my father was capable of doing away 
 with indefinite melons — both the great red water- 
 melons and the delicate little cantelopes which the 
 
SAINT LOUIS. 
 
 IS7 
 
 French cultivate so well. Whenever La Mere had 
 a specially fine melon she brought it to my father ; 
 and always we heard over again, and sorrowed 
 with her afresh for the parting from their farm in 
 France. One sister was in serv'ice with us, and 
 another, Anneite, was nurse in the family of my 
 father’s niece. These young ones were satisfied 
 with the change ; more than satisfied when they ex- 
 changed field and farm labor for the ease of life as 
 nurses and the pleasure of wearing their Sunday 
 clothes every day. 
 
 Sometimes, in a summer’s day }'ou feel, before 
 you see why, a chill in the air. Something has 
 changed ; and though the day looks the same its 
 sweetness is gone. So, in the summer I was 
 about eight, this bright careless Saint Louis life 
 seemed to chill over. At first we were only told we 
 were not to go to school. Then, we were to play 
 only with each other in our own grounds and no 
 more little friends visited us or we them. The 
 friends who came to my father on the long gallery 
 were as many as ever, but they and he himself no 
 longer had any pleasant leisure, but were quick 
 
SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 158 
 
 and busy in coming and going, and all looked 
 grave. The tears were all the time on Madeleine’s 
 face and constantly she was on her knees telling 
 her beads and praying and sobbing. We saw 
 many, many funerals passing. Our house was on 
 a sloping hill, and we saw to all sides of the 
 square. Then, son'>, drays with several coffins 
 piled on jolted fast along the rough street, or a 
 wagon-load of empty coffins woi Id cross another 
 street. Madeleine would run in from the gallery 
 hiding her eyes ; “ Ah, Mon Dieu, it is all funerals 
 on every side — C esi k chokra:’ 
 
 It was the cholera ; among a people excitable 
 and ignorant of its treatment, who gave up to it as a 
 fatality if they could not fly from it. 
 
 In this condition of universal alarm, when 
 nearly all who could, fled from the town, even 
 clergymen deserting their churches, my father 
 thought it right for him to stay and give the en- 
 couragement and example of his presence. With 
 his courage and sense of duty this was easy, but it 
 must have been hard to him to risk my mother 
 and all of us children. The Catholic clerg)’ were 
 
SAINT LOUIS. 
 
 IS9 
 
 true to their post ; and among the Protestant 
 clerg 3 men who remained was a young man who 
 became loved and honored there, the Rev. Mr. 
 Potts. He became very intimate with my parents 
 during this cholera time, and later, married a 
 neice of my father’s. 
 
 1 was too young to know details, but I know 
 how the Peninsular war was laid aside for good 
 work from both officers among the sufferers. All 
 were busy, and all needed, for a panic had set in 
 and nothing is so cruel as fear. Our poor gentle Mr, 
 Savary died — alone. Gay M’ame Desiree nursed 
 others like a hero but was herself a victim. Our 
 Madeleine became almost entirely blind — nervous 
 paralysis of the eyelid from the terrified shrinking of 
 the eye from constant passing coffins. Other- 
 wise the disease did not touch one of our family 
 and spared our nearest friends. Our house was a 
 “ diet-kitchen ; ” good soups, preparations of rice, 
 and well-filtered and purified water, it became the 
 occupation of the house to keep ready. 
 
 All the water was brought in large barrels from 
 the river and poured bucket by bucket; into great 
 
l6o SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 jars of red earthenware, some of them five feet high. 
 These jars had their own large cool room paved 
 with glazed red brick and level with the street. 
 The jars of drinking water and for cooking were 
 clarified of the mud of the river by alum and 
 blanched almonds, and then filtered. So much was 
 needed now that even we children were useful in 
 this sort of work. In that cool dark room the 
 melons used to be kept, but there were no melons 
 or fruit now — we ate only rice and mutton and 
 such simple things. 
 
 The sad summer ended as all things must end, 
 bad or good. Tout passe. When all seemed safe, 
 suddenly my mother was taken down with chol- 
 era, and the nurse who had become blinded by 
 one shock recovered her sight from this other. It 
 was a bad illness, but with that one brush of the 
 dark angel’s wing our home stood as before. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 SAINT LOUIS {continued). 
 
 I T so chanced that my marriage connected me 
 still more closely with Saint Louis and all the 
 interests of its neighboring countries because of 
 their connection with the explorations of Mr, 
 Fremont. 
 
 I would go with him to the Delaware Indian 
 country on the frontier and stay until the expedi- 
 tion was ready to start; sometimes returning to 
 Washington, and sometimes remaining in Saint 
 Louis. The frontier of then is now Kansas, and 
 its Indians and wolves and unbroken green 
 stretches of prairie are only a memory ; and the 
 present conditions of quick travel and quicker in- 
 formation must almost prevent your having a clear 
 idea of the uncertainties of those journeys. They 
 were very wearing ; and being so well understood 
 
 i6i 
 
i 62 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 by the people of that country I was taken into their 
 most friendly sympathy when month was added to 
 month, and another year of silence began without 
 any news from the party. 
 
 The old whaling days of Nantucket have these 
 experiences as legends among them, where absence 
 and silence lasted for years, but that was the sea. 
 Here, on land, was then the same unbroken 
 silence with its fears and anxieties, and its useless 
 hopes. At one time, in Saint Louis, for eight 
 months we watched every day, and each night 
 made preparation for the sudden arrival of Mr. 
 Frdmont. It was fully time for his return, but we 
 could not hear of him in advance. As fast as 
 horses, and then the river boats, could come he 
 would come — there was no other way to hear. So 
 through the winter, through the spring, the lamp 
 burned on until the sun rose, 
 
 Burned vain through the night, 
 
 as for Lochiel ; and the pretty little supper-table 
 was undone each morning to be set afresh for the 
 next night — for eight months 1 
 
SAINT LOUIS. 
 
 163 
 
 Toward the last a rumor came through Indian 
 sources that the party had had a time of desperate 
 suffering from snows and starvation ; though this 
 was known and discussed by every one it was 
 kindly kept from me, but I felt there was some- 
 thing under the added expressions of protecting 
 tender friendliness. 
 
 Things do not happen as we arrange for them, 
 but as they arrange themselves, and the arrival 
 was oddly different from our plans of welcome. 
 
 Early one summer morning we were roused by 
 a message from my elder cousin to ask if Mr. Fre- 
 mont really had arrived ? (I was just then with 
 another of my cousins.) The messenger said 
 Gabriel (the coachman) had said so ; that he 
 insisted he ha'd been waked by a lot of gravel 
 thrown into his room through the open window ; 
 that in the moonlight he saw the Captain “in his 
 uniform and thin as a shadow,” who asked him if 
 everybody was well, and could he let him into the 
 house without making a noise ? That first he took 
 it for a ghost, but he made sure it tvas the Cap- 
 tain, and he. answered I was at Mis’ Anne’s — that 
 
164 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 Mr. Potts (my cousin’s husband) was very sick. 
 
 “And then the Captain went off, quick, down 
 town.” 
 
 Poor Gabriel occasionally drank, so he was held 
 guilty of that this time, as there was nothing at 
 Mis’ Anne’s to support his storj'. But it put us 
 all astir, for there seemed some foundation. My 
 nurse promptly assumed the ghost theory and 
 mourned accordingly when — enter ghost! — in 
 the life, but not in the flesh, for he was awfully 
 worn. 
 
 Gabriel was a proud man now that he was justi- 
 fied. Mr. Fremont had waked him as he insisted, 
 and had hurried off from the stable toward Mrs. 
 Potts’ house, the parsonage adjoining the Presby- 
 terian church. There, he could only enter by 
 ringing, and that would rouse the family. Mr. 
 Potts had hemorrhage of the lungs, and it would 
 be a risk to him to be suddenly waked. Day was 
 near breaking, so he thought he would walk about 
 until some servant should be stirring. 
 
 The only green spot with trees was the open 
 ground in front of Barnum’s hotel, and there he 
 
SAINT LOUIS. 
 
 sat on a bench watching for the slow stars to grow 
 pale. One of the hotel people seeing the uniform 
 came out and hospitably offered a room, when he 
 recognized Mr. Fremont, who explained his wait- 
 ing there. 
 
 Every one knew each other yet, though Saint 
 Louis was now a large city. Mr. Potts was greatly 
 loved and this care for his rest was understood. 
 Mr. Fre'mont could not refuse the offered room 
 and bed pressed on him — the first bed he had 
 seen in eighteen months. He had no longer any 
 responsibilities, or anxieties ; he knew we were all 
 well ; it was dark still, and so it fell that sleep 
 came ’on him — the exquisite sleep of body and 
 mind at rest — and this gave time for Gabriel’s 
 ghost story to travel from house to house, for the 
 sun was well up before a break came to that deep 
 wholesome sleep. And once awake he met such 
 a welcome all along his way that we had become 
 completely puzzled about him. The parsonage 
 was thronged with welcoming friends, and we left 
 for Washington with the most hearty good wishes 
 for both of us. 
 
i66 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 After this, and with all my happy memories of 
 Saint Louis, think how hard it was to go back 
 there to the feeling that met us in ’6i — in the 
 beginning of the war. 
 
 Everything was changed. There was no life on 
 the river ; the many steamboats were laid up at 
 their wharves, their fires out, the singing, cheery 
 crews gone — they, empty, swaying idly with the 
 current. As we drove through the deserted streets 
 we saw only closed shutters to warehouses and 
 business places ; the wheels and the horses’ hoofs 
 echoed loud and harsh as when one drives through 
 the silent streets late in the night. 
 
 It was a hostile city and showed itself as such. 
 
 One gentle touch from the past softened this, 
 hly cousin herself was absent, and her family was 
 in France, but she had written to her man-of-busi- 
 ness to meet us and take us to her beautiful house 
 where we had always felt at home. More than 
 ever it seemed home now ; the old butler, “ uncle ” 
 Vincent, slow and gray, met and welcomed us, and 
 from the wall smiled down in lasting youth and 
 sweetness the young cousin who had known but 
 
SAINT LOUIS. 
 
 167 
 
 seventeen happy and beloved years. Into that 
 upper parlor where the closer family life had left 
 its impress many troubled men came and found 
 moments of rest. My cousin insisted we should 
 use the house as we needed and it became the 
 Headquarters of the Western Department. Stand- 
 ing in its own grounds with three streets border- 
 ing them, it was convenient for the review of the 
 regiments which came pouring in from neighbor- 
 ing States. This is not the place to begin to tell 
 of that mighty time. I only speak of the bit of 
 home surviving the storm of war and giving us 
 this ark with some household gods still left in it. 
 There came the good Dorothea Dix, “ given of 
 Heaven ” surely, for the help of the insane and 
 prisoners, and now of the sick and wounded. And 
 there came, every evening, after the army left, the 
 good Admiral Foote, whose heart was sore that 
 the work on the gunboats was stopped and precious 
 time being given to the enemy to fortify. And 
 there came General Sherman while waiting orders 
 — out of favor because he had said not sixty nor 
 ninety thousand men, nor two hundred thousand 
 
i68 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 could end the war. And there General Grant was 
 given his first command — and many and many a 
 link of historical interest connects with that stately 
 house which was now all that was left me of past 
 days. 
 
 Though the old kind feeling crept out in side 
 ways. Fine old linen, bottles of good wine, would 
 be sent to me, without names, but with a line to 
 say they were for the sick in hospital ; and one 
 said, “ Not sent to the wife of the Yankee General, 
 but to the daughter of Mrs. Benton who always 
 gave to all needing help.” 
 
 Of all wars none can approach a civil war for 
 distressing complications. I went there in July 
 with brown hair, and came away in November 
 gray. 
 
 A later memory is of a beautiful day of honors 
 and good-will and a revival of old friendly feelings 
 which came comfortingly, and remains the govern- 
 ing impression. 
 
 In the summer of ’68 I was invited to come to 
 Saint Louis and unveil a statue of my father. It 
 was a bronze, cast in Munich, and on the pedestal 
 
SAINT LOUIS. 
 
 169 
 
 were his words which time had made into a proph- 
 ecy, though for many years they had the usual fate 
 of ideas in advance of the public. I had seen per- 
 sons smile significantly to each other, some even 
 touch their foreheads with a gesture to intimate 
 that much thinking on this subject had warped his 
 mind — it is so much easier to imagine one’s self 
 superior than to be really so. “ Men said he was 
 mad, now they asked had he a God ? ” 
 
 For on this pedestal, where the bronze hand of 
 the statue points west^ are the words : 
 
 “There is the East.” 
 
 “There lies the road to India.” 
 
 From his long intimacy with the old explorer of 
 the Oregon and the instructive talks with not only 
 General Clarke but many and many a fur-trader and 
 trapper and “ mountain-man ” — from the mission- 
 ary priests — from all sources my father gathered 
 in and pondered on all he gathered of this great 
 vague Western land of ours with its one only diffi- 
 cult harbor at the mouth of the Columbia. 
 
 He remembered that in the War of 1812 Com* 
 
170 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 modore Porter, the father of our Admiral Porter, 
 for want of an American port had to destroy about 
 eighty ships taken by him in the Pacific. Many 
 were whalers, and their loss told on London itself. 
 It was said of Commodore Porter in Parliament, 
 that “ he had caused the lights of London to burn 
 dim for a year” — but think of the prize money 
 he lost ! 
 
 It became my father’s fixed idea, with a growth 
 proportioned to the greatness of the subject, that 
 this great West must be opened to emigration, and, 
 when possible, a good harbor secured on the Pacific. 
 You may say the good harbor, for there is but the 
 one — that of San Francisco. 
 
 Was it not a good fortune that I should make 
 the connecting link between my father's thought, 
 and that thought made action by Mr. Fre'mont — 
 between the thought that shaped and planned, and 
 the plan made living by action expanded as cir- 
 cumstances gave opportunity ! 
 
 Nothing would have been more easy than to have 
 Mr. Fremont kept on duty in Washington; but he 
 had been already some years on the sur\-eys of the 
 
SAINT LOUIS. 
 
 I71 
 
 Upper Mississippi and had known the inspiration 
 and largeness of the great prairies, and the stories 
 of the Rocky Mountains aud the unknown land 
 beyond were already to him, as to my father, of the 
 deepest interest. So the two minds and wills be- 
 came one, and step by step their work was accom- 
 plished. 
 
 To me, the Westward history of our country has 
 been not alone its public phase, but the fireside 
 talking and planning the weighing of obstacles, 
 and wise foresight of opposition — all rightly esti- 
 mated, but none suffered to outbalance the one aim : 
 the opening up of our Western country to the Pacific 
 coast, and the acquiring more of that coast. Louis- 
 iana, Florida, Texas, all had been acquired in my 
 father’s earlier day ; he knew the opposition each 
 had met, and did not intend to have it roused in 
 advance to interfere with what he knew then, and 
 what our whole country to-day knows, was a crown- 
 ing advantage to our national strength — the hold- 
 ing the best port on the North Pacific. When there 
 rose a cloud of war between us and Mexico the 
 opportunity came. And it resulted in our taking 
 
172 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 California. With his compelling will, and his politi- 
 cal strength in Washington, and his certainty of 
 long and complete understanding and faithful co- 
 operation and the using of every favoring chance 
 by Mr. Fremont, my father could act with apparent 
 suddenness — but officially it was only giving the 
 expected signal. And he knew who he had to 
 rely on. 
 
 How it would have gratified my father could he 
 have seen that splendid May-day fete in his honor. 
 
 Often I feel what a mistake it is to let our great 
 men go uncheered by the vitalizing force of affec- 
 tionate esteem in which so many have really been 
 held. As a people we are growing more natural 
 and direct in such expressions, but to reserve them 
 for funeral honors can bring no comfort or 
 strength then to the strong brain that labored for 
 them. 
 
 The large Park was filled with a holiday crowd — 
 over forty thousand, I was told. The children of the 
 public schools, dressed in white, and, boys as well 
 as girls, carrying large bunches of roses — my 
 father’s favorite flower, were grouped, many thou- 
 
SAINT LOUIS. 
 
 173 
 
 sands of them, around the base of the slight rise on 
 which the statue had been placed ; toward the 
 valley below, the trees and shrubbery had been 
 chared, leaving an open view of the line of the 
 Pacific Railway. 
 
 By a strange chance all the family were dis- 
 persed — some in California, some in Europe. 
 Only Mr. Fremont and myself could he present. 
 And I took with me as part of the old home one 
 person, my grandfather’s faithful body-servant 
 Ralph. My parents gave him his freedom after 
 my grandfather’s death, but after trying various 
 things he came back to his own family and lived 
 with us “ on wages ” as long as any of the elders 
 remained. Then he settled in Saint Louis and was 
 now a trusted man in a bank there. 
 
 My grandfather at a race in Richmond bought the 
 winning horse, jockey and all — in the sad fashion of 
 that day; the little jockey, Ralph, was from the 
 Brandon estate of the Harrison’s and called himself 
 always Ralph Harrison of Brandon. Did not the 
 statue mark wonderful progress in our country ? not 
 only the completed ownership and occupation of a 
 
174 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 new empire on that Pacific coast, but there, and 
 everywhere in all our country — free labor. 
 
 As the veil fell away from the statue, its bronze 
 gilded with the warm sunshine, the children threw 
 their roses at its base ; at the same moment the out 
 going train to San Francisco halted and saluted 
 with whistles and flags ; and when the speaker of 
 the day dwelt on the public schools, and home- 
 stead laws, which had been cherished measures 
 of my father’s, who felt for all children, women and 
 helpless people, all knew he deserved the words of 
 praise given him. 
 
 He could not hear these ; but he had seen suc- 
 cess come to his hope of a country bathed by both 
 oceans — from his own home and hearth had gone 
 forth the one who carried his ideas to fullest 
 execution. And after many perils and long absences 
 and doubts and fears all had ended like a fair}' 
 tale in everything his heart could wish ; for wealth 
 and leisure came with the new countr}', and we 
 were back with him — back, even to a seat in the 
 Senate beside him for the one we had often feared 
 would return no more. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 NEW ORLEANS PANAMA. 
 
 N ew ORLEANS was, as it called itself in old 
 days, “ a little Paris in America.” They held 
 fast to every French usage and prejudice ; and, as 
 the wealthy planters sent their sons to France and 
 put their daughters in convents for their education, 
 their ideas were so shaped that the younger genera- 
 tion remained as completely foreigners in thought 
 and feeling as their fathers and grandfathers, who 
 never ceased their resentment and regret at having 
 been deprived of their French nationality. 
 
 Added to this came much worry regarding their 
 titles to their lands. It is not an honorable chapter 
 in American history that records our dealings with 
 weaker peoples. The Louisiana purchase brought 
 upon its old settlers much of the same bad faith 
 and injustice I have seen imposed upon the original 
 
 *75 
 
176 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 holders of lands in California ; notwithstanding the 
 treaty so carefully made to protect them. 
 
 My father was the friend as well as the lawyer 
 of many of these French landholders, and when 
 the troubling law-matters brought them to the 
 Supreme Court in Washington they were naturally 
 much at our house where they could find their 
 own language even among us children. One, Mon- 
 sieur Canonge, insisted my sister and myself should 
 come to a great dinner he gave my father on one 
 of our visits to New Orleans. I was but twelve ; 
 but I am always pleased I was let to go, for it 
 remains as the most delicately splendid feast I ever 
 saw, though climate necessarily gave some of its 
 most charming features. 
 
 The house was built on three sides around a court 
 of fresh green with fountain and flowers, the fourth 
 side being open to a lovely garden with all its 
 tropical beauty brought to perfection by French 
 gardening of the old stately school. 
 
 The first part of the dinner was taken in a noble 
 room with all the silver and splendors of a great 
 house ; but for the dessert we went into another 
 
NEW ORLEANS PANAMA. 177 
 
 room, large and lofty and opening wide upon the 
 garden, where the moonlight was making fairy 
 effects on the feathery foliage and changed the spray 
 of the fountains to showering diamond dust. The 
 table was covered with flowers, and all its service 
 was crystal and gold ; the Venetian glass chandelier, 
 with its many wax lights reflected in the prismatic 
 glass, was so wreathed and hung with flowers as to 
 make a subdued charming light on the table which 
 had on it only fruits and ices and fragrant wines. In 
 a wide circle were young slaves in white, each with a 
 great long-handled fan of peacock’s feathers which 
 they waved gently — fanning the air in the same 
 way as the punkah-wallahs” of India. Large 
 mirrors lined the room and repeated this lovely pict- 
 ure of softly brilliant light on flowers and waving 
 peacock plumes, and made an endless vista of the 
 garden and fountains whose fragrant freshness 
 gave both animation and repose. 
 
 Among these planters wealth had been inherited 
 and was easily maintained in lavish increase. They 
 had no need to take thought for to-morrow — their 
 future as well as their past seemed equally secure. 
 

 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 At home in Virginia we had some few peacocks, 
 but the effect of a warm climate gave so much more 
 brilliancy and size to these plumes that my mother 
 spoke of it admiringly ; to her dismay, Madame 
 Canonge sent to her the ne.xt day several of these 
 great fans ; it was dangerous to praise anything, it 
 was sent to you at once. 
 
 Every morning one and another sent to my 
 mother such quantities of dowers and fruits that it 
 became embarrassing how to dispose of them. 
 
 One family we knew decided it would be for the 
 future good of their sons to be “ brought up as 
 Americans ; ” so they sent them to Baltimore, to 
 the Catholic College there. With them was sent 
 their nurse! A fine-looking middle-aged French 
 quadroon w’ho could not understand why boys of 
 ten and twelve could not keep their nurse at a col- 
 lege. She came to us at Washington, weeping and 
 angiy, to ask my father’s intercession with the 
 Reverend Fathers; for, “ Hov/ can the children 
 dress themselves ? who will do their hair? and their 
 nails?” she said. 
 
 Poor souls — they had no idea of the broken 
 
NEW ORLEANS — PANAMA. 
 
 179 
 
 fingers and other base-ball damages, or the rough, 
 rough training English and American boys undergo. 
 
 Before these boys were half-way through life all 
 this established wealth had vanished — its very 
 foundation gone. No softness or luxury for them 
 now. Yet such boys as these, and thousands 
 more from homes as tender if not so splendid, 
 proved themselves of noble endurance under every 
 trial of war ; and now under the bitter ordeal of 
 lost fortunes they are rebuilding the South. 
 
 We are too close to the greatest period in our 
 nation’s history to take it in just proportion — the 
 details are as yet the most conspicuous. 
 
 But it was an epic poem in action, and brought 
 out character as only such rare epochs can ; while 
 it leaves us, as one result, the most honorable 
 pride in all our people. 
 
 When it became too warm in town for our poor 
 little invalid we would go across Lake Pontchar- 
 train to Madisonville, a summer settlement on the 
 deep, narrow Chifuncte River; its dark waters 
 overhung and darkened still more by the great 
 boughs of the live oaks. Just back of this lay 
 
l8o SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 the pine barrens ; all loose deep sand so thickly 
 overgrown with tall pine-trees that the sun only 
 flickers through their lofty green heads. 
 
 They show you the road cut through these for 
 Jackson’s artillery to come up to him for the battle 
 of New Orleans. 
 
 Around the houses by the river were beautiful 
 gardens, but the plague of mosquitoes was everj-- 
 where — day and night. The bird cages, even the 
 chicken coops, had their mosquito nettings, and 
 children played under portable tents of netting. 
 This was supposed to be a resort for fresh air and 
 reviving breezes from the Gulf; but after such 
 warmed air as that the luxury of luxuries is a real 
 sea wind that you feel blowing through and through 
 you with clean sweet freshness and giving an 
 energy impossible in “dose climate.” 
 
 How I longed for such life-giving winds when I 
 was detained nearly two months in Panama on my 
 first voyage to California “in ’49,” for I too was an 
 Argonaut. The steamer which had gone up to San 
 Francisco, the first that entered that harbor, could 
 not return for they could not get a crew; what 
 
NEW ORLEANS — PANAMA, l8l 
 
 man would be a fireman on a voyage to the tropics 
 when his two hands could gather gold in that love- 
 liest climate of California ? But what was good 
 for the fireman was bad for us ; each steamer on 
 the Atlantic side brought its crowd for whom there 
 was no transportation away from this unwholesome 
 fever-land. Thousands were banked up in Panama 
 watching for “ a sail ” like shipwrecked people. Any 
 sailing vessel, unfit or fit, was eagerly taken by the 
 waiting men ; and badly manned and fitted out 
 they took their risks of the sea rather than bear 
 the ills they were suffering from the deadly climate. 
 My stay there would have been most dreary but 
 for that cordon of personal kindness and mutual 
 help, of which there is so much that it counter- 
 balances the selfish indifference of which there is 
 so much too. 
 
 General Herran, the Minister from New Granada, 
 was among our friends in Washington who had 
 great interest in my voyage, which was then truly 
 formidable. His family connection was large and 
 important, and to some living in Panama he gave 
 me letters of introduction ; writing to them also of 
 
i 82 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 my home in a way that made them take me Into 
 theirs, and their family intimacy. One lady, a 
 widow, simply insisted on my coming to her and 
 being one of her children — the “hotel” she said 
 was impossible for me ; and a few days of it made 
 me sure one need be blind and deaf to stay there. 
 As the unforeseen delay stretched on from week to 
 week I had increasing reason to be grateful to 
 Madame Arce for making me part of her home. 
 
 How pleased she was that I knew Spanish, and 
 how it pleased my father to read my letters show- 
 ing how his forethought had equipped me for the 
 battle of life — that terrible ordeal from which no 
 human love can protect the most cherished child. 
 
 My Saint Louis and New Orleans ways of living 
 made this Spanish life familiar in many aspects. 
 Here too were the houses built around a court, but 
 larger, and having large gardens where palms and 
 waving feathery-leaved cocoa-nut trees shaded the 
 great tank which made the water supply of each 
 house. There w'as no living on a ground floor. In 
 hot latitudes health obliges you to live high above 
 the ground ; w'here, lifted high, we had a glorious 
 
NEW ORLEANS PANAMA. 183 
 
 picture of sea and sky of intense cloudless blue, 
 against which the tropical green of the cocoas and 
 palms and the rich pink of the oleander-trees made 
 a feast of warm color. Their lives needed large 
 houses for they concentrated on home. They only 
 left the house for early mass, for very early, or very 
 late visits among themselves, or a walk on the ram- 
 parts in the brief cool moments before the sun went 
 down ; in the sudden way of the tropics which 
 makes you appreciate the Ancient Mariner’s 
 
 Down went the sun, 
 
 Up rose the moon, 
 
 for sun and moon have no gradual steps at nine 
 degrees above the equator. 
 
 But there is “ no rush ” among the people. 
 “ The land of manana ” extends over this Spanish- 
 speaking people also. Among the refined and edu- 
 cated families I knew, this relaxing atmosphere had 
 only made gentleness and a sweet simple courtesy 
 the habit and rule of life. With children and 
 servants also there was the same softened amiable 
 manner. Narcissa and Candelaria (both colored). 
 
184 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 one old and gray, the other vivid in her youth, 
 were my special attendants — their trailing velvety 
 voices, their noiseless movements reposed me as 
 did the placid gentle lives of the ladies around 
 me. With all their soft ways however the duty of 
 head-of-the-family was well carried out ; and it was 
 sweet to see the grown sons of Madame Arce com- 
 ing to her in consultation on business, kissing her 
 hand when they left, while she, laying a thin hand on 
 the rich black hair, with an upward look to the 
 shrine of the Madonna, had no doubts or questions 
 to mar her practice and faith in a mother’s love; 
 and her orphan grandsons as well as her sons gave 
 her the respect and love she so well desem-ed. 
 
 “ The rainy season came on, and with my home- 
 sickness, and the painful news that came to me of 
 the sufferings of Mr. Fre'mont’s party, I became ill, 
 the fever going to the lungs. Now I felt the value 
 and comforting of this tender domestic life. Had 
 I been her daughter, Madame Arce could not have 
 given me more thorough care. Good old withered 
 Narcissa would mourn over me that I was “so far 
 from my own country ’’ — ay pobrecita ! tan Igodesus 
 
NEW ORLEANS — PANAMA. 185 
 
 pais — and be pleased to tears when I enjoyed the 
 refreshing preparations of fruit she made so well. 
 When I was out of danger all the connection 
 showed me their kind feeling. They had made 
 special prayers for me at the Cathedral and one 
 had vowed to supply the hospital with limes for 
 the rainy season if I recovered. How all this 
 touched my home people ! Coming back through 
 Panama a year after, I carried their offering to the 
 hospital. 
 
 But this was only a rest by the wayside. 
 
 Into the quiet of a night there came the signal 
 gun of a steamer. The silence of the town gave 
 way to wild excitement as the imprisoned Ameri- 
 cans rushed to the ramparts while the native 
 Indians, always on the alert for excitement, crowded 
 the streets dancing and singing and shouting, “ el 
 Vapor!" And when another gun announced a 
 second steamer, it was Bedlam let loose. From our 
 high balcony we saw big men crying and embracing 
 one another with excited joy — it was the being 
 taken off a desert island for them. One ship was 
 from around the Horn, the Panama^ the other, the 
 
i86 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 California, had managed to get a crew to bring her 
 down. She had no trouble about willing men to 
 take her up again ! 
 
 The captain of the Panama, and a naval officer of 
 our friends came at once to tell me I was to go up 
 on the Pana7na which could continue her voyage, 
 and so came the parting with these friends, but I 
 saw them again whenever I crossed the Isthmus. 
 
 If when looking back to Saint Louis I feel its 
 fresh life, cheerful movement and ample outlook 
 in refreshing contrast to the metes and bounds and 
 endeavors to repeat past phases of life of the East, 
 how can I tell all that name, “ California,” repre- 
 sents ? If our East has a life of yesterday, and the 
 West of to-day, then here to-morrow had come. It 
 was discounted anyway, and made good too. What 
 a dream of daring young energy' — of possibility — 
 of certainties — of burdens dropped and visions 
 realized ! A man is half-way through life at thirty- 
 five ; then he rela.xes and rests, all the more if great 
 success has come to him easily. He may fall back 
 to the need for exertion, but the courage and im- 
 petus of great days remain to him. 
 
NEW ORLEANS — PANAMA. 
 
 187 
 
 California has of late been resting from her 
 glorious youth. Now, soberer middle-age has 
 come ; but all that made her splendor is there — 
 sure — and giving its returns for steady care. 
 
 To me it was the Land of Promise and glad- 
 ness. Getting to San Francisco in the windy 
 weather of June, a bad cough was added to the 
 hurt to the lungs left by my Panama illness, and 
 I was taken to the softer air of Monterey. I met 
 there a young officer, thin to gauntness, and not 
 considered more likely to live than myself. To 
 that exquisite pine and sea air we each owe new 
 life. As it chanced, we did not meet again until 
 the end of our late war when General Sherman and 
 myself, talking over those Monterey days, thought 
 we had been of some use for people given up as 
 “ consumptive.” 
 
 I had gone up the coast fearing the news I might 
 meet of Mr. Fremont’s winter journey overland. Its 
 cruel sufferings when he was midway, I learned at 
 Panama, but kept on my way refusing to give up 
 even in my own mind to the doubts almost every 
 one had of his getting through. 
 
i88 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 At the first California port, San Diego, we met 
 the news that he had arrived and hurried on to San 
 Francisco. I think every man on the ship came to 
 tell me and say a choking word of joy for me. 
 
 Then, and through all that voyage, when for the 
 first time in my sheltered life I was alone to meet 
 whatever befell me, I felt the comforting power of 
 that manly friendliness our American men give to 
 any women meeting the blows of fate ; both my 
 names were household words to many and gave 
 an additional feeling of kindness towards me. 
 
 When Mr. Fremont was chosen Senator it sent me 
 back to my old home — so that California brought 
 me health after illness, and wealth and honors. 
 There was my home. There was my future. When 
 the death of my parents left me no divided feelings 
 I no longer looked back ; as every' woman from 
 Lot’s wife through, must when parting from home. 
 “ The household gods are slow to consecrate a new 
 hearth.” Our war made a break and brought us 
 back to this side of the country, and since then a 
 singular and prolonged injustice on the part of our 
 Government has kept my California home from me. 
 

 * » . 
 
I 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 CALIFORNIA. 
 
 TT is presumption to put that comprehensive 
 name to this fragmentary brief paper, when 
 the space given me would not answer for a mere 
 index of the many delightful pictures memory 
 brings up ; episodes illustrating character under 
 new and trying conditions, with results chiefly 
 good — even under the test of sudden and great 
 success. 
 
 My geese are not all swans as good Judge Black 
 once growled at me ; but I detest what is unlovely 
 and of bad repute, and such things find no inten- 
 tional remembering from me. 
 
 Even in ’49 when we were pretty much in the 
 conditions of shipwrecked people where each one 
 becomes a law to himself, the element of good 
 decidedly prevailed. And California does not owe 
 1S9 
 
igo 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 her beautiful harvests of grain and wine and fruits 
 to fitful use of energies. To be sure the climate 
 makes unbroken energetic health. A young 
 friend, who had grown up in the interior, said 
 very fairly when in Washington : “ It is very easy 
 to kept Lent here on shad and terrapin, but on 
 salt-fish it is a penance.” Winters below zero with 
 pneumonia attached, and ninety degrees and sun- 
 strokes for summer, allow no such vitality as is the 
 rule in “that fair land of flowers.” Exertion is a 
 penance half the time here. 
 
 I wish I could tell you of my lovely camping- 
 out travel for months ; of my visits by the way to 
 the ranches of the native Californians and their 
 genuine hospitality and their good housekeeping ; 
 their immense families — fourteen, twenty, even 
 twenty-six children, among whom sickness was un- 
 known, and the wonderful grandmothers — all 
 were proofs of the fine climate. One of these 
 grandmothers, a Madame Castro, over eighty when 
 I saw her, remains to me a type of this patriarchal 
 and contented people as they were until we brought 
 among them our American unrest and turmoil. 
 
CALIFORNIA. 
 
 I9I 
 
 She wished to thank me in person for “ Don 
 Flemon’s ” protection of all women daring the 
 military movements in taking the country; she 
 was old, so she sent me word, but would come to 
 see me in Monterey if sure of finding me there. 
 
 I had the only carriage in the country — built 
 in New Jersey for me and shipped out months 
 before, so that I found my transportation ready. 
 
 The trouble of finding any animals that would 
 submit to harness would make a story to charm 
 boys. They had to give up and let me have mules 
 however, for it made me wild with fright too, to 
 carry on the experiments with bucking, rearing, 
 backing horses, screaming and sweating with ter- 
 ror. 
 
 It was my Pullman car, for in it I could sleep by 
 night, and go comfortably wherever wheels could 
 go. The California women travelled but little and 
 that on horseback, or in the slow heavy creaking 
 carreta, a low wagon-body without a spring, with 
 solid wood wheels, and drawn by oxen. I would 
 not let the old lady be jolted in that way for me 
 and went willingly enough to her. 
 
ig2 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 The want of undergrowth, the beautiful grasses 
 and wild flowers and the fine trees made all the 
 coast-countr)" look like parks, and the framing of 
 landscape for the family picture was good w’hen 
 we reached the group waiting us in front of the 
 long low house. 
 
 There was fashion, even here. It was “de 
 modo ” to wear on fine occasions a full petticoat 
 of scarlet broadcloth with points of green silk, 
 
 N. 
 
 stitched beautifully point upward, as a border 
 around the bottom. Over this a gown of the dull- 
 toned damasked Chinese satin. Madame Castro 
 wore the obligatory English scarlet cloth petticoat 
 and her gown of olive satin was pulled through 
 the pocket holes either side, making a good wat- 
 teau effect. A small crape shawl of many soft 
 colors was crossed over the breast and the ends 
 trimly tucked back. Sunburned and naturally 
 dark, she had still much of the rich color of the 
 young women near her. Her brilliant black eyes 
 were large and steady, and the thick white hair 
 made a puff as it was turned back from the face 
 and coiled in a large plait at the neck. Children, 
 
CALIFORNIA. 
 
 193 
 
 grandchildren and great-grandchildren were around 
 her, assembled to do me honor — coming forward, 
 as she named each, with smiles that showed their 
 beautiful white teeth — as fine almost in the ven- 
 erable mother of all as in the Murillo girls. Her 
 dignity of welcome, and the good she invoked for 
 me in return for the care they had had from Mr. 
 Fremont was sincere and impressive. And so 
 beautifully free from self-consciousness ! 
 
 She, and all the native people, were erect and of 
 free firm movement. You could see that neither 
 in mind or body had they known depressing influ- 
 ences. 
 
 I do not like to remember how we changed all 
 that. A carefully drawn treaty had guarded their 
 rights, but this proved of no avail. 
 
 They could not answer the searchers of titles as 
 that fine old English Earl answered King John 
 “ Lackland ” ’s commission to search, and confiscate 
 to the crown all titles not seeming to them sound ; 
 flinging his big sword on the table among their parch- 
 ments, “ There is my Title. By their good swords 
 mine ancestors won these lands and by my sword 
 
194 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME, 
 
 I will hold them ; ” for these were only a peace- 
 ful people, with herds and flocks and fruits and 
 vines. 
 
 The men lived much on horseback and had 
 excitement and pleasure in theirs and their neigh- 
 bors’ cattle interests. Dancing and abundant but 
 temperate feasting brought together the families, 
 and though I saw this only in its dying phase, it 
 was even then “ enjoyment ” — not as a phrase but 
 as a fact. 
 
 The roomy long one-stor}^ houses with shaded 
 courtyard and large high-walled garden made the 
 boundary of the women’s lives. Here they over- 
 looked diligently their Indian ser\-ant girls — bap- 
 tized and “Christians” — who were good at fine 
 sewing and in cooking food which was savor)' and 
 wholesome. We could turn into any rancho and 
 find this same contented orderly abundant home 
 living; whatever they had was offered without 
 explanations or efforts at varying. 
 
 No end of fancy needlework decorated their 
 wearing and house-linen. They were amused that 
 I should admire it so much ; like their good cook- 
 
CALIFORNIA. 
 
 195 
 
 ery it was the survival of Spanish convent-train- 
 ing, coining down to them in household tradition 
 and therefore only matter-of-course. 
 
 All that is only a memory to them as to me. It 
 was so strangely peaceful and contented I like to 
 tell of it. 
 
 It would take a volume to record what I have 
 seen of the amazing transformations made by our 
 own people. The whole California chapter is one 
 of the most interesting in the world’s history — 
 so rapid, yet so useful and so far-reaching that I 
 can recall no parallel. One would have to go very 
 much out of the beaten paths now to find anything 
 peculiar or characteristic ; the Bret Harte models, 
 like the buffalo, disappeared before the railways, 
 for peculiarities, like feuds, “cannot withstand so- 
 cial intercourse.” 
 
 The heat, which becomes intense in these inland 
 valleys, had made me ill and I came down, rather 
 suddenly, from our mining place in the mountains 
 to San Francisco and sea-air, getting a start of 
 twelve miles by leaving home in the late afternoon 
 and resting for the night at Murray’s — a comfort- 
 
196 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 able inn on the Merced river. The good bridge 
 there, and Osborne’s ferry on the Touolumne, and 
 their two good inns, decided the route. Having 
 our own travelling resources we chose our own 
 hours. We had a pair of horses which made the 
 eighty miles in two days, getting through in time 
 for the afternoon boat from Stockton, where they 
 rested until the return. In cool weather they had 
 several times made it in one day, but that was 
 necessity, and the man who always drove them 
 knew how to spare a horse and was fond of these 
 two. “ Coachman ” I cannot call him. He was a 
 spare, wiry Tennessee Indian with enough colored 
 blood to have been a slave ; he had freed himself 
 — sharply, I fancy. 
 
 For years he had been the most noted hunter, 
 of grizzly bear especially, in all those mountains ; 
 a silent solitary man, who chose to stay with us. 
 He loved money, but money alone could not buy 
 his services. He was a “ lucky ” (persevering) 
 miner and had lived to himself ; but he had a 
 thorough alleigance to Mr. Fremont, and when we 
 went up there, gave to my youngest boy, a child 
 
CALIFORNIA. 
 
 197 
 
 of three years, all the unused tenderness of an 
 embittered nature. 
 
 He was a character ; known and feared — no 
 man ever “fooled-round ” Isaac, and as he was 
 absolutely sober and not quarrelsome (though 
 swift and deadly in retaliation), he made all the 
 guard I needed. 
 
 Soon after we left Murray’s in the cool gray 
 morning, we met a “ prairie schooner ” with its 
 twelve-in-hand mule team, and halted for Isaac 
 to ask about the water in the Touolumne, a moun- 
 tain river with sudden rises that scared me when 
 the current made the open ferry-boat sway danger- 
 ously off from the rope. 
 
 They warned us we could not rest there the 
 afternoon and night as was our custom. Mrs. 
 Osborne herself had left because of diphtheria 
 there, “ bad.” That meant no rest for the horses. 
 
 Isaac never talked or exclaimed, but he knew 
 how to act. 
 
 As carefully as possible he worked the faithful 
 horses, but the heat and deep hot dust were hard 
 on them. And if they gave out there was not a 
 
SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 198 
 
 house or tree or water for stretches of ten and 
 twenty miles. 
 
 Isaac was alarmed too for me, and grieved for 
 the little boy, who was as patient and reasonable 
 as he was miserable. I did almost give out, but 
 when you must you not only must but you do. 
 One of the horses began to suffer ; they could 
 not know, poor things, why we hurried past the 
 big barns and the cool shade of the noble oaks at 
 Osborne’s. When night fell still a long pull to 
 Stockton, and Prince’s back was a limp straight 
 line with hanging head and stumbling feet. 
 
 Suddenly Isaac turned to me ; “ Now, don’t you 
 say nothing — I’m going to take you thar, to the 
 Ten-mile House. Prince can’t go any further.” 
 
 This Ten-mile House we always gave a wide 
 berth to in our journeyings — you could drive 
 where you pleased on those flat treeless plains, and 
 we were best pleased not to pass through that 
 place; a “wagon-stand ” with its corral and barns 
 and smithy on one side of the road, and on the 
 other a tavern, whose owner was a sinner as 
 well as a publican if report was true ; and the 
 
CALIFORNIA. 
 
 199 
 
 nearness to Stockton made it a roughish resort. 
 
 This was about as bad as the diphtheria at 
 Osborne’s ; but having recognized what must be 
 done Isaac admitted no weak side-issues. 
 
 The moon was up and curious wagoners came 
 forward — incredulous — as they recognized the 
 carriage. A brief explanation from Isaac made 
 them into active helpers about the horses, while 
 Isaac leading, I and the child followed him up the 
 path of the enclosure to the porch of the tavern 
 where sat an enormously large old man who 
 roared at us as we neared — asking. Who was it ?> 
 What did we want that time o’ night } 
 
 Recognizing Isaac, he moderated, but broke 
 out afresh at my name — he wanted no (very 
 blank) black republicans coming into Ais house — 
 he wouldn’t have any fine madam there anyhow. 
 
 The given-out horse — the child — the sick 
 woman — “No! no I no!” 
 
 “ Go round the other side of the porch,” directed 
 Isaac, “ where you can’t hear him. He can’t come 
 after you — he can’t git about without help — and 
 nobody’s going to help him /4A 
 
200 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 There was a little two-pronged oil-lamp flaring 
 away in the window behind him, and by its light 
 I saw Isaac’s thin features, all twitching with pas- 
 sion. But he controlled himself, and said only that 
 he must see what could be done for the horse, and 
 could I just wait on the porch ? 
 
 “ Well, but don’t you be long about it ! I won’t 
 have ’em here ! ” 
 
 “ C’esf Croqiie — mitaine mammanl" (the nursery- 
 French for ogres and terrible creatures). The 
 little man had eyed it all as a show, and until now 
 had not spoken. 
 
 I told him we must both keep very still, and we 
 moved off as far as the porch permitted ; to be 
 met by a trembling haggard woman with such a 
 very young baby, who was listening in fear and 
 begged me with tears to get away. 
 
 Another roar : 
 
 “See! Here — You! You can set in the par- 
 lor — come out o’ that fog.” 
 
 Venturing near enough to thank him, I asked 
 to stay outside. The young locust trees were in 
 bloom, and filling the night air with a dear remem- 
 
CALIFORNIA. 
 
 201 
 
 bered home fragrance — “ Let me stay by the 
 locust trees. They reminded me of home and 
 my father,” I said, nearly crying ; I was so tired 
 and it was all so unexpected and miserable. 
 
 “ Where’s your home ? Who’s your father ? 
 What’s his name ? ” 
 
 I answered : “ Saint Louis ” — “ and Senator 
 Benton.” 
 
 “ What ! Senator Benton ? Tom Benton ? ” 
 
 And being satisfied of this, with a roar louder 
 than any yet, he cried out for one and another 
 until several men were about him ; all was changed 
 now — he could not enough shew his good will. 
 His outcry had brought Isaac from the sick horse, 
 and to him and to all he commanded attention to 
 me ; “ You, Ike, you go round to the kitchen — • 
 there’s a woman thar, a pore-good-for-nothing- 
 sickly-thing with more children ’an she can handle 
 and she’s got another — I had to take the lot 
 along with her husband and now he can’t cook, 
 he’s down with the chills. Have that woman up, 
 Ike, and make her wait on the madam. 
 
 “ Tom Benton’s daughter ! Lord ! how I did 
 
202 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME, 
 
 fight for him them Bank times in Mizoury,” etc., 
 etc., etc., — “ and there’s young chickens and eggs 
 — git the lady a supper,” 
 
 While to another was given the order for 
 “ wine,” and lo ! bottles of various kinds (for 
 me ! a water-drinker by training and preference). 
 
 He meant it so well that, with the aid of my 
 handkerchief, I managed to empty a glass of an 
 explosive compound he named “champagne” 
 without risking any of it within my mouth. I do 
 not wonder that the loud cries, the queer surround- 
 ings, his big bloated form made the child think 
 him an “ ogre ; ” but he was now intent on hospi- 
 tality and intermingled his broken recollections of 
 my father, and election work, with sudden vocifer- 
 ations for more attentions to me. He had himself 
 brought along in his great chair to the end of the 
 porch where the locust blossoms looked like a 
 snowfall in the moonlight. “Them locusses, 1 
 planted ’em to remind me of old Mizourj',” and 
 before long he was talking to me almost gently ; 
 he thought he had dropsy, and found a sort of 
 comfort when I reminded him of Gleneral Jack- 
 
CALIFORNIA. 
 
 203 
 
 son’s long sufferings and death from the same 
 disease. “ That’s so ! I know that’s true ! Well, 
 well, what’s good enough for Andy Jackson’s good 
 enough for me.” 
 
 He had not heard of my father’s death. He 
 could not realize so much will and strength and 
 accumulated power, gone. 
 
 “ What am I ? ” he kept saying. “ I’m nothin’ 
 to nobody. Nobody minds me now I can’t git 
 round — they pretend they don’t hear me call and 
 I git mad. Well — I am glad to have Tom Ben- 
 ton’s daughter in my house before I die.” 
 
 He was in pain though, and had to be carried 
 off, telling me to stay as long as I had a mind to 
 — “ jist you take all you want. Rest that horse,” 
 etc., etc., etc. 
 
 But very, very early that horse was on duty, and 
 we crept into Stockton where a hot bath and a 
 good sleep left no trace of our misadventures. 
 Only to the poor “ ogre ” as to myself, a memory 
 of the good influences of the locust blossoms. 
 
 On the boat I found the Golden Era, the literary 
 paper of that coast, and in it a bit of description 
 
204 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 I felt to be so faithful to the sort of man I had 
 just seen, where the germ of good survived the 
 wrong uses of a life, that it thoroughly interested 
 me. I knew the editor, and, again seeing more 
 such writing in his paper, asked who his contribu- 
 tor was. 
 
 “ My compositor, a young man of not tv'enty- 
 three.” 
 
 I had to insist this very shy young man should 
 come to see me ; but soon he settled into a regu- 
 lar visit on Sunday, his only time of leisure, and 
 for more than a year dined with us that day, bring- 
 ing his manuscripts ; astonished by the effect of 
 some, at times huffed by less flattering opinion on 
 others, but growing rapidly into larger perceptions 
 as he saw much of various people to whom I 
 made him known. Chief of these was dear Starr 
 King. It was an education in every good to know 
 him. 
 
 But a man cannot live on praise as a humming- 
 bird does on honey-dew. I was coming away 
 when the war began, and our youth, “to fortune 
 and to fame unknown,” was starting to Oregon to 
 
CALIFORNIA. 
 
 205 
 
 become joint editor of a newspaper, when Mr. 
 Beale came out as Surveyor General. He gave at 
 my asking an appointment with a good salary to 
 the unknown genius, and he gave him also his own 
 valuable friendship ; when he was leaving Cali- 
 fornia Captain Rand who was United States Mar- 
 shal of the State, repeated the kindness ; and on his 
 giving up office a friend of Starr King’s who was 
 superintendent of the mint there took up the chain 
 of good will and again a good salary secured lei- 
 sure and a quiet mind to the young writer. 
 
 He wrote me about this time : “ If I were to be 
 cast away on a desert island, I should expect a 
 savage to come forward with a three-cornered note 
 from you to tell me that, at your request, I had 
 been appointed governor of the island at a salary 
 of two thousand four hundred dollars.” 
 
 By this time, however, he was well-known in 
 California. I could not prevail on Mr. James T. 
 Fields to introduce him on this side through the 
 Atlmitic, but his own “ Heathen Chinee ” soon 
 after introduced him to the reading world where 
 Bret Harte needs no outside help. 
 

SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 " {Foreign Series.) 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A queen’s “ DRAWING ROOM.” 
 
 M y first visit to the old world was in thorough 
 contrast to the strange and rough journeys 
 into the newest part of our country ; even its acci- 
 dents turned to unexpected pleasures for us. 
 
 To avoid the winter crossing from New York, 
 we had taken passage direct to England by the 
 West India mail line. This made some days’ delay 
 in Panama, but we congratulated ourselves on not 
 being in the rush of our late fellow travellers who 
 had to catch their steamer at Chagres before the 
 following night. It was a most fatiguing journey 
 before the railroad; on mules half the way, then 
 in open canoes down the Chagres river. The hot 
 sun was dangerous, the night damp equally so ; 
 and the alert robbers, who had every advantage 
 
 among defiles and woods they knew well, made 
 209 
 
210 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 another danger for any small party. We were to 
 go over with the English mails and treasure from 
 the South Pacific — we should have good mules 
 and reliable Indians and leisurely travel. Mean- 
 time we would see our kind Panama friends. 
 With this programme we settled to a “ shore break- 
 fast ” at the French restaurant, where we were 
 amusing ourselves with the characteristic self-con- 
 fidence of its chef, who only answered to all our 
 questions and preferences : 
 
 “ Soyez tranquilles ; Je, suis la, vous aurez un bon 
 d^jeiiner." 
 
 But we did not get his good breakfast. 
 
 Mr. Frdmont’s man came in hurriedly: “Col- 
 onel, there’s a bad report our steamer is burned.” 
 
 We quickly learned this was true ; the Amazon 
 had been burned in the Bay of Biscay. 
 
 Here was a rush for us now ; we were off im- 
 mediately with such poor mules as were left, carrying 
 ourselves and our baggage, and such provisions as 
 the lamenting Frenchman had ready. 
 
 My baby, a boy not a year old, was carried off 
 on an Indian’s back in a hammock improvised 
 
A queen’s “ DRAWING ROOM.' 
 
 2II 
 
 from a tablecloth, with a provision of chicken 
 bones and crackers and a canteen of water. That 
 Indian travelled faster than our lean little mules, 
 and to my fright disappeared after we entered the 
 hills ; but when we got off our miserable mules at 
 Gorgona there was my baby, happy, and quite at 
 home with a group of native women. The good 
 creatures had refreshed him with a bath, and made 
 me comprehend they would have dressed him but 
 he would not let them put on his clothes again. 
 
 With the earliest light we were in the canoe hur- 
 rying down the river as fast as possible, but it was 
 nightfall before we reached Chagres. There was 
 no need to ask anything; the answer was there in 
 a man with a lantern ( and a grin ) on the muddy 
 bank : 
 
 “ Did you calculate to take a New York steam- 
 er?” A faint “Yes” from us. “Well, the last 
 one went out at four o’clock.” 
 
 This meant waiting ten days ! ten days in a 
 place so unhealthy that if any person slept on shore 
 they forfeited their life insurance. 
 
 We took a day to rest and decide about returning 
 
212 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 to Panama. That second night one of the English- 
 men who came over with us, died. A healthy man, 
 who went to sleep well, and was buried at sunrise. 
 
 You can fancy our relief when we saw, that 
 morning, a trail of brown smoke on the horizon — 
 lovely coal smoke — and soon a large steamer 
 came to anchor. 
 
 Mr. George Law was visiting the ports of his 
 steamer line, and took us off with him ; and this 
 ended all rough chances and brought us back to 
 settled order and comfort in all things. Although 
 we had to cross the Atlantic from New York in 
 March, after our care to avoid it, that proved good 
 for us. Short as our stay on the Isthmus had 
 been we were all touched with its fever, and the 
 bracing cold was its best remedy. And never have 
 I known such charming comfort at sea as on that 
 rolling old Africa. As there was no other lady on 
 board. Captain Harrison put the lady’s parlor en- 
 tirely at our service. It was the library also, and 
 had an open fireplace, and the wind being right 
 for a fire we had that luxury all the way over. 
 Our table was served there and altogether, with 
 
A queen’s “ DRAWING ROOM. 
 
 213 
 
 the cheerful fire, the books, and the children, it 
 was like a fine yacht. 
 
 Everything else “ rolled on velvet.” At Liverpool 
 we were met by a friend who took charge of every- 
 thing, and we had only to let ourselves enjoy the 
 pleasure and repose of all we found prepared for us. 
 
 The Marchioness of Wellesley, who was one 
 of the three beautiful Miss Catons of Maryland 
 — sisters who married great names in England — 
 had been kind enough to take trouble that my 
 rooms at the Clarendon should please me. She 
 knew of our coming through a mutual friend, and 
 my Virginia family was known to her. One room 
 of the suite I found so bright and fresh with its 
 new chintz and flowers and wood fire, that it added 
 to my pleasure in it to know I owed this to her 
 suggestion. She said the heavy dark hangings 
 would seem gloomy after the brightness of America, 
 and herself chose the chintz for slip covers for the 
 curtains and furniture — asking first if I were dark 
 or fair, that a becoming color should prevail. 
 
 We were fortunate in having home friends in 
 the American minister and Mrs. Abbott Lawrence 
 
214 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 who had been at both my homes in Virginia and 
 Washington. They made our stay delightful from 
 the first day. A young friend, who was much in 
 Paris with her sister, took charge of the important 
 matter of my dress ; two years of California at that 
 date put one out of civilization as to dress. A few 
 visits to the authorities of the toilette, just to be 
 inspected and fitted, and I was quickly arrayed 
 like the lilies of the field and with no more trouble 
 on my part. All my pretty things grew without 
 thought from me while I dined and breakfasted 
 with people it was a pleasure to know, and drove in 
 the Park with some one who told me who was 
 who. 
 
 Much seemed familiar to me from the English 
 atmosphere of my earlier days as well as from 
 books. My experienced friends would not allow 
 of any sight-seeing, not even a look into West- 
 minster Abbey. They were wise to keep me from 
 fatigue, for “ people pass away while monuments 
 remain.” ( It was reserved for the Parisians to 
 contradict this when they destroyed their grandest 
 historical monuments.) 
 
A queen’s “ DRAWING ROOM.” 
 
 2^5 
 
 I did meet many persons, now gone, of honored 
 and distinguished names. 
 
 My first evening was at the town residence of the 
 Dukes of Northumberland, Sion House, now taken 
 down and the space built over in modern houses. 
 Its grounds sloped to the Thames and the ex- 
 tent and magnificence of the building were pos- 
 sible only to hereditary and entailed rank and 
 wealth. 
 
 At the entrance of the first of many noble rooms 
 stood the duchess, young and slender, but not 
 beautiful, as she should have been for such beau- 
 tiful surroundings. I am afraid it is only in fairy 
 tales that everything comes out all right. Just by 
 the duchess was a familiar face, that of Lady Bul- 
 wer, whom I had known well when Sir Henry was 
 minister to the United States. Mrs. Lawrence had 
 already introduced me, but Lady Bulwer said some 
 nice things of me to the duchess which made the 
 difference between a merely formal introduction 
 and one that was kind and personal. Lady Bulwer 
 also took me about the rooms, making occasional 
 introductions and more often pointing out, and 
 
2i6 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 telling me about persons, in the way only women 
 of society know of each other. 
 
 Moving about by himself, silent and abstracted, 
 was a very elderly man, never tall and now bent by- 
 age. “That is my uncle, the Duke of Wellington,” 
 she said. Going to him and taking his hand she 
 spoke my name distinctly — it was but a few months 
 before his death and he was failing — he bowed 
 mechanically, and then, as a slow wave of memory 
 brought back some meaning to it, “ I know that 
 name,” he said, and put out his hand to me. 
 
 Modern training does not permit any expression 
 of feeling, but before I slept that night I wrote 
 this to my father ; of all I could tell him he would 
 care most to know that the hand that had proved 
 the hand of fate to Napoleon, had touched mine. 
 
 It was the Duke’s habit to dine on his birthday 
 with Miss Burdett-Coutts, he naming the persons 
 to be invited. He did us the honor to include us 
 this year, but a death in my immediate family pre- 
 vented my going, and shortly after his own death 
 occurred. 
 
 That was a bad habit I had of writing home when 
 
A queen’s “ DRAWING ROOM.” 
 
 217 
 
 I should be sleeping, for I needed all there was of 
 me for each day’s engagements, as my list for one 
 day will show : 
 
 “ To be presented to the Queen. Then, from 
 the drawing-room to the Duchess of Bedford for 
 four o’clock tea. 
 
 “To dine with Mr. and Mrs. Bates (the great 
 banker), and after that the evening at Sir Roder- 
 ick Murchison’s.” 
 
 He was President of the Royal Geographical 
 Society and had invited its members to meet Mr. 
 Fremont at his house. 
 
 Mrs. Lawrence had rehearsed me in all the eti- 
 quette of the ceremonial, and was satisfied with 
 the ease and depth of my courtesy ; the result of 
 much early drill and my mother’s fastidious aver- 
 sion to seeing a lady “ bow like a man, or duck 
 like a servant.” And my court dress was also 
 approved of. Here every properly constituted 
 girl will ask, “ What was it ? ” Because I was 
 thinned and almost pale from constant travel — 
 four crossings of the Isthmus in as many years 
 — I had to abandon my favorite color, violet, and 
 
2i8 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 avoid blues or greens. The brides and debu- 
 tantes had the right to white ; yellow was impos- 
 sible, for California was then only connected with 
 its first idea of gold mines and I could not go, 
 like Miss Kilmansegg, “ clad in a robe of aurifer- 
 ous hue.” 
 
 The result was what to-day would be named “a 
 symphony in roses ; ” we did not have the name, 
 but the gown was “ perfectly sweet.” The petti- 
 coat of palest pink satin, with its tremendously 
 long train of the same shade of moire (then a new 
 thing). Quantities of rich blonde lace bordered 
 the train and softened the petticoat, and French 
 skill had placed, everywhere, nestling among the 
 lace, roses in all shades from red to white, as 
 lovely and nearly as natural as those in my bou- 
 quet. The regulation three long plumes of earlier 
 days had come now to shorter ostrich tips, worn 
 high and joining the lace lapels which fell over 
 the back of the neck. With some pearls, the 
 whole was harmoniously rich and had successfully 
 avoided being “ shiny.” 
 
 Writing for young people I may remind them 
 
A queen’s “drawing room.” 219 
 
 the Queen only uses the old Palace of St. James 
 for state receptions, her town residence being at 
 Buckingham Palace. Mrs. Lawrence went early 
 that I might see the Queen drive up, and secured 
 a good place for me in one of the deep windows 
 of the great room next the Throne-room where the 
 ladies of the diplomatic corps and many great 
 ladies were assembled. 
 
 A lovely woman of middle age came to this 
 window and was turning away after a look in the 
 direction the Queen should appear when with a 
 sweet smile, and the very sweetest of voices, she 
 said to me, “ If you stand here ” (where she had 
 been) “ you will get the best look — Her Majesty is 
 punctual and will soon be here now.” 
 
 Then, as I thanked her, she turned again and 
 remained by me, and when I had a look of sur- 
 prise at the Queen’s horses, she asked smiling, 
 “ What is it ? ” I told her that I had not known 
 horses of that color could be so honored. 
 
 “ Only for state-occasions,” she said. “ It was 
 always so.” 
 
 “ Because,” I asked, “ of the Spanish ideas that 
 
220 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 governed England so long?” To which she 
 agreed that it well might be, but she had never 
 heard it questioned. 
 
 They were cream-colored with long silvery 
 manes and tails — we know such chiefly as circus 
 horses. You who are fresh in your histories will 
 remember that queen of Spain, an Isabella, but 
 not our Columbus-Isabella, who made a vow dur- 
 ing a siege not to change her linen until the siege 
 ended. It lasted three years. All her court had 
 to follow her example and the deep tan-yellow to 
 which their linen had changed was adopted as the 
 royal color ; known as “Couleur Isabelle.” 
 
 I liked this as an evidence of the unchanging 
 usage so precious to the English mind — “ it has 
 been, therefore it is, and must continue to be ; ” 
 that is the Chinese-wall of English conservatives, 
 and the barrier to larger, more modern thought. 
 
 This sweet-voiced woman was Lady Clarendon. 
 “ Of course you found her charming,” Mrs. Law- 
 rence said ; “ when Lord Clarendon was made 
 Viceroy to Ireland her sweet nature and manner 
 were counted on to help his work there.” 
 
A queen’s “ DRAWING ROOM.” 
 
 221 
 
 There was so much to see I could not take in 
 all, but I had seen the agitation of the diplomatic 
 ladies who had gathered in little whispering groups 
 and were evidently offended. A young and most 
 lovely woman was as evidently the offending one. 
 She stood apart and, though she could not avoid 
 being conscious of the feeling surrounding her, 
 bore it beautifully. She was exquisitely dressed 
 in pink and silver brocade with row after row of 
 wonderful pearls covering her alabaster-white neck 
 — her fairness was remarkable — and with her 
 golden hair and blue eyes she was absolutely 
 beautiful. 
 
 Just as marked was their courtesy and attention 
 to another lady who was also somewhat apart — 
 these were evidently the chief figures in the drama. 
 
 This lady was handsome but not young; her 
 train was of gold brocade embroidered with great 
 bunches of flowers in their natural colors ; the 
 head-dress I recognized as Russian — the high 
 velvet coronet covered with precious stones and 
 the long veil of gold lace. She was the wife of the 
 Russian Minister; the longest resident at that 
 
222 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 court and therefore having right to the first place. 
 Only an ambassadress could outrank her. And 
 only an Empire sends ambassadors, and these only 
 on unusual occasions. 
 
 But the husband of the lovely little pink and sil- 
 ver lady who was wearing the famous pearls of the 
 Empress Josephine, had just been raised from 
 minister to full ambassador; expressly that his 
 country, France, might take the first place at this 
 the Queen’s first Drawing Room of the season. 
 
 Count Walewski was not only cousin to Louis 
 Napoleon, but he was the exact portrait of the old 
 Emperor. This was while France was just begin- 
 ning to lift from the revolution of 1848 which had 
 overthrown monarchy and, as yet, Louis Napoleon 
 was only President. This forcing on all the repre- 
 sentatives of European monarchies to recognize 
 him as their full equal, even to making his minister 
 take precedence of them all, was a serious matter. 
 And the first brunt of their resentment was being 
 met by the Countess Walewski. Though so very 
 fair she was Italian, of the noble old house of 
 Colonna, and she did not flinch. 
 
A queen’s “ DRAWING ROOM.” 
 
 223 
 
 But the doors of the Throne-room opened, and 
 all things gave way to the ceremony of the day. 
 
 First of all, passed in the Ambassadress of 
 France. 
 
 After her ! Russia. 
 
 America came fourth. 
 
 After Mrs. Lawrence had made her courtesy, she 
 presented me. I knew I must not look openly at 
 the Queen, only notice her bend of the head in 
 return for my low courtesy ; then I was to make 
 another, less low, as I passed before Prince Albert ; 
 and to the Queen’s mother, and her cousin the 
 Princess Mary, the courtesy was again to be 
 slightly less deep. “ Remember this,” I had been 
 cautioned, “ Her Majesty is very tenacious of all 
 marks of deference due to Prince Albert.” 
 
 I remembered ; Mrs. Lawrence gave me a look 
 of approval as I took my place by her in the line 
 of diplomatic ladies where I was to remain ; and 
 now there was nothing to interfere with my enjoy- 
 ment as a looker-on. For two hours I watched 
 that beautiful procession of English noblewomen 
 as they made their obeisance, kissed the Queen’s 
 
224 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 hand, and then backed out from the royal presence. 
 You could not turn the back to the Queen nor 
 could you speak. It was all a splendid dumb-show, 
 It added much to the impression to have no sound ; 
 and as those stately figures glided along one after 
 the other advancing, courtesying, and backing, in 
 the unbroken silence the effect became dream-like. 
 
 In the open space between our line of ladies and 
 the picture-covered wall, softly pacing up and down 
 was the Duke of Wellington ; perhaps he should 
 not have moved but he was not only privileged but 
 no longer fully himself. Immediately back of 
 Madame Walewski was a full-length portrait of 
 George IV. If “ those lips had language ” they 
 would have asked the Duke, “ How came these 
 Bonapartes here ? You defeated and overthrew 
 him at Waterloo, and I imprisoned him on St. 
 Helena.” But the mere shadow of that mighty 
 name proved enough to govern France again for 
 almost twenty j^ears. 
 
 At dinner that evening at the Bates, I came on 
 another page of French histor}^ ; the family of 
 Louis Phillippe had taken refuge in their house 
 
A queen’s “ DRAWING ROOM.”' 225 
 
 when they escaped to London and it was deeply 
 interesting to hear of that time from Mrs, Bates. 
 
 Mrs. Lawrence occasionally directed my atten- 
 tion to some special person — a look, a touch of 
 her bouquet, or a name spoken low and, as school- 
 girls know how, without moving the lips. 
 
 “ The Duchess of Bedford,” she murmured. 
 
 I had seen the Queen bend forward in friendly 
 greeting to the little old lady whose look and even 
 whose dress expressed weariness of such things, and 
 yet a yielding to obligation. You could read her 
 indifference in the old skimp train of purple velvet 
 “ freshened up ” by beautiful old lace — but the 
 lace was just basted on flat, and her hair was not 
 dressed, but screwed up on top of her head. But 
 around the scanty twist of gray hair was a ducal 
 coronet with enormous diamonds, and the three 
 heron feathers for her three Dukedoms. A com- 
 fortable high-necked and long-sleeved under-waist 
 of white silk protected her arms and neck — it looked 
 queer projecting from the short-sleeved and low- 
 cut body of the purple dress, but over it were fas- 
 tened several splendid necklaces — diamond, stones 
 
226 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 of color, pearls, without grace or arrangement ; 
 you could see they were only put on because she 
 had them and it was the thing to do, but she had 
 no interest in them or her appearance. This 
 greatly pleased me, it was in its way so English; 
 so disdainful of appearances, so tenacious of fact. 
 
 The Queen made a beautiful picture. Standing 
 above the level gave her an effect of height which 
 was added to by an artistic arrangement of the 
 royal robes. The velvet and gold hangings of the 
 throne made a rich red background for her dress 
 of white satin and lace. Her immensely long vel- 
 vet train of royal-red lined with white satin was so 
 disposed as to fall in large straight folds to the 
 step below her where its rich mass was added to 
 the length of the figure. The broad blue ribbon 
 of the Garter crossed her breast, and diamonds 
 covered her neck and arms, and gave out their 
 light from the crown on her small and graceful head. 
 
 The Queen’s countenance and manner showed 
 she entered fully into each presentation. She 
 would move forward toward women of advanced 
 age — as the Duchess of Bedford — and her pleas- 
 
A queen’s “ DRAWING ROOM.” 
 
 227 
 
 ure in the swan-like white-robed brides was evident ; 
 while her eyes followed kindly a blushing embar- 
 rassed girl too overawed to remember all her 
 courtesys. 
 
 Prince Albert, tall and much handsomer than a 
 man need be, dressed in some white and gold uni- 
 form made the completed and truly royal picture. 
 I saw them both, to even better advantage, some 
 evenings later. Each time the Queen made the 
 same impression of womanly goodness combined 
 with a look of power — a simple and unconscious 
 manner, but that of unquestioned habitual author- 
 ity. This was softened by her air of content — 
 there is no beautifier like happiness and the Queen 
 was seeing her best days ; her marriage was excep- 
 tionally happy and her children were in the sweet 
 baby-time ; she had become accustomed to the 
 cares of governing, and England was at peace. 
 The CrimeanWar and the Indian mutiny were near, 
 but no shadow was on this time. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 QUEEN MARIE-AMELIE. 
 
 W E had a most reposing dinner that evening at 
 Mr. Bates for, as Mrs. Bates kindly thought, 
 I was tired from the long ceremonial of the Draw- 
 ing Room. Two diplomats of distinction,who were 
 also great travellers, had wished to meet Mr. Fre- 
 mont quietly and talk travel, so we were but six at 
 table. 
 
 When it is a large dinner, you meet, practically, 
 but the one person assigned to you — this may 
 prove a pleasure, but sometimes that one person 
 may be stupid enough. 
 
 This time the conversation was in common, and 
 charming from the wide experience and high posi- 
 tion of some present, and the harmony of tastes in 
 all. The table had a shaded light as for a home 
 dinner, and in the space of a big English dining- 
 228 
 
Queen marie-amelie. 
 
 229 
 
 room the wax lights on the distant buffets did not 
 tell on this quieting effect. I think I was at every 
 variety of dinner in London : the heavy old-fash- 
 ioned four hours of time and thirty guests ; the 
 completely fashionable, of many people but over in 
 the hour and a half to which modern ideas have 
 mercifully reduced the sitting; dinners, where the 
 ladies “ withdrew to the drawing room leaving the 
 gentlemen over their wine,” a solemn proceeding 
 familiar to me in Virginia ; and the later usage also 
 familiar to me in Washington of all leaving the 
 table together ; delightful meetings with specially 
 agreeable men, travellers, officers and pleasant peo- 
 ple generally at “ bachelor quarters ” because I 
 could not go to a club dinner ; but none pleased 
 me so entirely as the subdued luxury of this little 
 dinner of six, where everything was subordinated 
 to the idea of repose and friendly intimacy. No 
 tall candlesticks and vases and heavy silver things 
 to block one’s sight of the opposite person, but a 
 large bowl of exquisite roses covered the centre of 
 the table and let us all see and hear in comfort. 
 But each appointment was an art-study ; the salt 
 
230 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 cellar by me quite charmed me — a silver statuette 
 by Froment-Meurice, eight or ten inches high, of 
 Venus rising from the sea. The foam on the waves 
 was real salt, just enough to excuse its being called 
 a salt cellar, but the beautiful figure of chased silver 
 with its burnished silver masses of wetted hair was 
 a thing of beauty. Another was a Neptune reining 
 in his fiery half-horses; these had to have more 
 salt as they had lashed the waves to more foam 
 than could the gentle Venus — “Born of the sea 
 to show air and water are necessary to make 
 beauty,” some one sa3's. 
 
 Inevitably they spoke first of the event of the 
 morning. This assertion of imperial power by 
 France, still in name a Republic with a President, 
 was discussed calmly but with full comprehension 
 by men who had taken their part in other political 
 upheavals — and in their downfalls. 
 
 Mrs. Bates told me that after dinner she would 
 show me her souvenirs of the stay made at her 
 house by the Queen of France (the wife of Louis 
 Phillippe), when she escaped to England from the 
 Revolution of 1848. 
 
QUEEN MARI E-AM ELIE. 
 
 231 
 
 In a small boudoir at the end of the suite of 
 large drawing rooms was a deep arm-chair in the 
 chimney corner with a white satin ribbon tied from 
 arm to arm, and fastened to its high back the in- 
 scription that there sat Queen Marie-Amelie dur- 
 ing the days of dreadful suspense while she waited 
 to know the fate of the king, of her sons, of her 
 very dear orphan grandsons the Count de Paris 
 and the Due de Chartres who you know came over 
 and served in our war. Only some of her daugh- 
 ters and daughters-in-law escaped with her — they 
 too, anxious and most unhappy. 
 
 Imagine this poor mother’s anguish. She was a 
 good and a proud woman, and brought to the 
 French throne a family life of affection, of per- 
 sonal example and insistance on an honorable at- 
 mosphere, never known in France before her time. 
 She was of the house of Savoy which is simple, 
 direct, brave, and true to its duty. Her grandson, 
 the King of Belgium, shows the good of this blood 
 in his sensible uses of power to develop commerce ; 
 and another near relative, the fine young King 
 Humbert, showed himself as brave as his father 
 
232 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 Victor Emanuel, in his conduct during the cholera 
 in Italy. When the mob was howling about the 
 Tuileries and sacking the palace, it was hard to 
 get the queen away. “ We will be murdered — we 
 must fly,” said Louis Phillippe. 
 
 “Where else should a king die than in defend- 
 ing his throne ? ” she said. 
 
 Then they were rushed off, not to know for days 
 what had become of each other. 
 
 The Bates family were out of town and there were 
 only some servants in the house. The little Duch- 
 ess of Montpensier, hardly fifteen, sister to Queen 
 Isabella of Spain and, like her brought up pur- 
 posely in childish ignorance, could not feel the 
 vastness of their misfortune. The royal ladies had 
 of course only the clothes in which they escaped 
 and, needing pocket handkerchiefs, gave one of the 
 servants money to get them some and the woman 
 told Mrs. Bates, the little Duchess slipped some 
 money into her hand asking her to bring her also 
 some chocolate bonbons — which naturally made 
 the woman pity still more the unconscious young 
 thing who had no idea of all she had lost. 
 
QUEEN MARIE-AMELIE. 
 
 233 
 
 There was an album of the Queen’s letters, which 
 was not shown, and photographs and portraits ; 
 and when we came out of that pretty room I felt 
 we had left a tomb. 
 
 After the shocking sudden death of the Duke of 
 Orleans his mother had adopted as her own charge 
 those whom her son had pensioned. Now, with 
 diminished resources she carried out that son’s 
 wishes. An officer had been killed in Algiers in 
 defending the Duke. The Queen gathered up this 
 family again in England where the daughter (who 
 herself told me this but a few years since) grew 
 to be reader and singer to the Queen, and by 
 her was suitably endowed when she married. The 
 husband, an Italian sculptor, had vague dreams of 
 great fortune in California. They came there, 
 soon lost their capital in bad investments, “and 
 at twenty I was alone in a mining camp with my 
 baby while my husband was searching for employ- 
 ment in San Francisco.” 
 
 One evening in almost despair she was singing her 
 child to sleep with one of the grand Latin Hymns 
 of the Catholic Church when one and another man 
 
234 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 drew near, listening. To show she was not alarmed 
 she sang to the end. Then one advancing told her 
 they knew her husband was out of luck, but there 
 was something for the baby until he came — a gen- 
 erous “ something.” With her delicate honor she 
 could not take this without return and said so ; 
 the way opened when they told her if she would 
 sing for them sometimes “it would be square.” 
 After that all went well for her. Her miner friends 
 arranged for her to give neighborhood concerts that 
 gathered in money. And since then as a teacher 
 of music and singing she has long had independ- 
 ence. And the husband had also congenial and 
 profitable art-work, so that California was good to 
 them and they have kept it their home. She has 
 kept also the high mark of the lofty and gentle 
 training which fitted her by both example and edu- 
 cation to meet reverses with dignity and courage. 
 
 At the house of Sir Roderick Murchison we 
 came into another world. Here were men who 
 had been to the uttermost parts of the earth, to 
 whom privations and dangers in the pursuit of sci- 
 
QUEEN MARIE-AMELIE. 
 
 235 
 
 ence and knowledge were so familiar, so matter-of- 
 course that they thought no more of them than the 
 good soldier does of his battle scars. And there 
 were also men of letters and distinction in art — 
 a clear-eyed manly set of men who bore the fine 
 impress of an animating purpose. 
 
 Coming together as they did to meet Mr. Fre- 
 mont, there was naturally a more demonstrative 
 outspoken manner than is usual ; but when an 
 Englishman of sense and good manners does not 
 feel the need for reserve he is as open as a boy. 
 We had a delightful evening leading to many pleas- 
 ant things, and some acquaintances which have 
 never dropped. 
 
 The expedition Lady Franklin was sending to 
 search for her husband was about ready to start 
 and we were asked by some of its officers to go the 
 next day to Woolwich and visit their ships. 
 
 How doomed they seemed ! Everything was so 
 prepared for danger and loss. In the small cabin 
 of the captain where a few books and some few pict- 
 ures were to make his companions in the years 
 of lonely absence from home and the busy life of 
 
236 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 the world, we had the great pleasure to find he 
 had included the reports of Mr. Fre'mont’s explora- 
 tions, and his engraved portrait. Under which on 
 my card I wrote : 
 
 “ Footprints ” . . . “ that another, 
 
 A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, 
 
 Seeing, may take heart again.” 
 
 From the small strong little Arctic ship we were 
 taken over one of the largest men-of-war just ready 
 to be launched. She looked immense, high on the 
 dock ; but the most interesting part of her, to me, 
 was the diamond-shaped bit of wood inserted in her 
 upper deck with its brass rim bearing an inscrip- 
 tion to tell it was a piece of one of Nelson’s old 
 ships on which he had commanded, and for which 
 the new one was named. 
 
 Years after when I was in Copenhagen we were 
 taken out to the sea-forts on the islands that de- 
 fend the city and where part of their defence is 
 made by the ships sunk by Nelson in the “Battle 
 of the Baltic ” to block the channel ; and a Danish 
 friend gave me a rare old engraving of that naval 
 
QUEEN MARIE-AMELIE. 
 
 237 
 
 engagement because of my pronounced admira- 
 tion for Nelson. Through my Virginia side I was 
 up in my Southey and Campbell and all they said 
 of Nelson found echo in me which took life when 
 I saw his old ships and the scenes of his battles — 
 not from seeing his Trafalgar monument though 
 Landseer did model the lions. Monuments rarely 
 are satisfactory, especially where they go into alle- 
 gory. When Landseer was left to himself no one 
 could better express the feelings of deer and dogs. 
 His dogs became at once household treasures. 
 He was among the men of brains I was glad to 
 meet at Sir Roderick Murchison’s and I was 
 fortunate in pleasing him enough to have quite 
 a dog-talk with him, from a criticism he found 
 good. 
 
 After so many people and places and exciting 
 thoughts it was a good change to have a passive 
 evening, dining at home and going early to the 
 theatre. 
 
 But the theatre, too, roused a lot of thinking, for 
 the acting was by the company of the Theatre 
 Francais and the Queen, who was to be there, had 
 
238 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 bespoken the play, PaiUiasse — the best character 
 of the old and famous Frederic Lemaitre. 
 
 I had taken my little girl that she might see the 
 Queen, and as our box was facing that of Her 
 Majesty we combined many satisfactions. There 
 can be no acting equal to that of this profession- 
 ally perfected company where no detail is consid- 
 ered trifling but each part filled with truthful exact- 
 ness, and an ease belonging with thorough train- 
 ing, and the feeling that it is their life-profession ; 
 for after a certain time a pension is given, and the 
 surplus receipts are divided among the members 
 of this company Every form of brain-work is bet- 
 ter rewarded in France than in any other country. 
 
 Early as we went the play had begun, and the 
 Queen was absorbed in watching its action. At 
 the moment it was only action, for the principal 
 figure was silent, though his countenance and move- 
 ments told the stor}- : a hard worked tired man 
 past middle age was tending a sick boy who lay 
 on a straw pallet on the floor of a poor cottage ; 
 while he was also making ready the evening meal 
 of the family — that soupe dii soir of the French poor 
 
QUEEN MARIE- AMELIE. 
 
 239 
 
 — cutting into the big bowl slices of bread from the 
 long tough-looking loaf on which the soup will be 
 poured when the rest come in. 
 
 His troubled grieved face — his gentle lifting of 
 the boy who moans as the change brings only fresh- 
 pain — this was the simple scene that was holding 
 in watchful sympathy the Queen of England. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE QUEEN AND THE PEASANT, 
 
 O understand the deep undercurrent of this 
 
 play, you must recall the fury of the long- 
 oppressed, ignorant French laboring people which 
 in their Revolution found vent, like the rage of 
 animals, in indiscriminate killing. While opposed 
 to them were the nobles, who were equally un- 
 reasoning in regard to the causes that led to all 
 this, and without pity or comprehension for the 
 griefs of the class opposed to them. This feeling 
 still controls in French politics. In the time 
 nearer the Revolution it was intense. “ Aristo- 
 crat,” to the French peasant, was the embodiment 
 of all evil ; “ le peuple,” the same to the aristocrat. 
 
 If you have read Dickens’ Tale of Two Cities, 
 you will remember how well he shows this. It is 
 better told in the good French writings on that 
 
 240 
 
THE QUEEN AND THE PEASANT. 
 
 241 
 
 time — the Memoirs of the Duchess de la Roche- 
 jacquelin for one. Written when she was eighty 
 and had passed through splendor and young hap- 
 piness to grief, want and ill-usage by peasant 
 farmers who would have killed her had they 
 guessed she was anything but a weakly farm-hand 
 herding their turkeys — on through wars, exile and 
 poverty back to peace and such happiness as comes 
 from relief from trials, this is a book to read that 
 you may understand by it feelings that shape a 
 nation. 
 
 It was a most aristocratic audience that looked 
 on at this poor peasant making ready the food he 
 has earned for his family. “ Pailliasse ” is the 
 popular name given the travelling juggler and 
 acrobat because of the straw mattress he uses in 
 his performance. This man, tall, strong and of 
 open fine face, begins to show the wear of time 
 and his hard life. It is fun for the country towns 
 where he exhibits, but all hard work to him. But 
 he has a sacred purpose that keeps him from 
 yielding to the wish for a little rest. His wife is 
 very young, very delicate, a little broken in cour- 
 
242 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 age and strength by early harsh treatment, and it 
 is the joy of his heart to keep her in comfort, to 
 give her what for their lot in life would be luxur)^ 
 He, already advanced in years, had married her 
 to protect her from the rough farmer to whom she 
 was a drudge — a parish waif without protection 
 from family or friends, and already her delicate 
 young frame was sinking under harsh treatment. 
 
 She is always in his thoughts ; he begins to talk 
 of her as he cuts up the carrots and herbs for the 
 soup and wonders where she and the little boy 
 are at that hour — “ walking in the fields. She 
 hates the streets and the noisy people, but loves 
 to gather flowers and walk alone.” Then she 
 comes in with a little fellow who runs to the other 
 boy on his pallet. “ Do not wake him,” says the 
 mother, he sleeps, he is tired, my poor little 
 one.” The father has to tell her that the boy 
 slipped and fell while standing on his shoulders 
 during the afternoon performance. She is a slen- 
 der, refined-looking and lovely young woman, list- 
 less in manner, but as she hears that the boy had 
 fallen and was hurt she springs up in horror, ciy- 
 
THE QUEEN AND THE PEASANT. 
 
 243 
 
 ing that she knew it must come — that her chil- 
 dren would be killed — “that horrible danger! 
 How often I have protested against it.” Then 
 like a woman possessed she cries out : “ I must 
 
 save them — I have no choice — I cannot see my 
 children killed ! ” 
 
 Poor Pailliasse — he knows he must let the 
 hysterical passion spend itself, but it was pitiful 
 to see him feeding and tending the little boys 
 with his sorrowful face turning in vain to the 
 mother, who seems beyond control. On this the 
 curtain falls. 
 
 Then the Queen became the first object. Prince 
 Albert and two ladies-in-waiting were the only 
 persons in the large box. We were directly oppo- 
 site, we also only four in our box, and the Queen 
 naturally looked again, seeing a little girl with 
 respectful, intent look fixed on herself. 
 
 The Queen’s countenance was very interesting. 
 The emotion of the scene had brought to the sur- 
 face more expression than English breeding toler- 
 ates for common use, and she was talking easily 
 with the others. Prince Albert looked a little 
 
244 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 bored, but the Queen was animated, and though 
 not handsome, as he was, yet more distinguished- 
 looking, and with that quiet air of majesty of 
 which he had none. Her dress was very simple, 
 a pale blue moire dinner dress with a lace scarf 
 over the bare shoulders and a pearl necklace 
 around the throat. 
 
 It was a great pleasure to the child to be so 
 near and observe to such advantage ‘‘ a real 
 Queen ” and find her so much like other ladies 
 even in dress ; and she knew the power and 
 grandeur of the Empire on which the sun never 
 sets. It was a good lesson to see this powerful 
 sovereign as interested as she herself was in the 
 family cares of a poor peasant. 
 
 The curtain goes up and again all is silence. In 
 foreign theatres it is considered rude and ill-bred 
 to make disturbing sounds, and when the Queen 
 was present it was also deference to her to be 
 silent. 
 
 This time the husband and wife are in deep 
 conference. He told her the child’s fall was his 
 fault; that while he was balancing him on his 
 
THE QUEEN AND THE PEASANT. 
 
 245 
 
 shoulders a fine carriage with four horses had 
 crossed the village common, and that the sight of 
 those aristocrats rolling at their ease while she, 
 weak and suffering, had to walk, drove the blood 
 to his head, and he threw out his clenched fist at 
 them and so lost the balance for the boy — “ they 
 bring only misfortune to us, those aristocrats,” he 
 said. Then she tells him those fine people had 
 come to look for her and bring riches to them ; 
 that she had not been walking in the field, but had 
 gone with one of them, their lawyer, to the inn, 
 where a very old, white-haired gentleman who was 
 sick wanted to see her. How he cried out at sight 
 of her — how he compared her face with a little 
 picture — “it was myself but with such beautiful 
 dress and hair.” And how they asked her to 
 take off her cap and the old gentleman wept as 
 her long light hair fell in waves about her and 
 called her his child and a name that was not hers. 
 And he said she must live with him always, for he 
 was her mother’s father — her mother who had 
 been killed. And then Monsieur le Notaire stopped 
 him, telling him he would be ill if he talked more 
 
246 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 and now must rest; and in the morning he, the 
 lawyer, would go and tell her the rest, “ then 
 bring her to stay with me and be a great lady and 
 rich.” And then the lawyer brought her home. 
 
 She dared not tell all. How the lawyer had 
 said that she, the child of a noble family whose 
 mother and father had been killed and their home 
 burned by their own peasants, could not bring a 
 peasant into her grandfather’s home. That it 
 would kill him. They had seen the poor fellow 
 exerting himself in his parti-colored clothes and 
 paint and found him impossible. They did not 
 feel that but for his tender care the little lost 
 aristocrat would have perished from want and 
 hard treatment — they did not consider peasants 
 had any “feelings,” or rights that nobles were 
 bound to respect ; and so the lawyer told her of 
 the good provision that would be made for her 
 husband, while she and her children w’ould be put 
 in their natural place and lifted out of all harms. 
 
 Although she refused flatly to hear to leaving 
 her husband, the thought had been planted like a 
 drop of poison, and when she found her boy hurt 
 
THE QUEEN AND THE PEASANT. 
 
 247 
 
 by the only way open to gain their bread, her poor 
 brain grew all heated and troubled as to what was 
 right for them. 
 
 What for their father now growing old ? Was 
 she selfish to think of her feelings ? But this she 
 keeps to herself, for she hopes to beg her grand- 
 father just to give them a little farm and some 
 money so they may rest. The lawyer is so kind — 
 surely he will take her part ; and she waits to see 
 him, only telling a part of the truth to Paillaisse. 
 
 He feels with sure instinct that he will not be 
 tolerated. But when the lawyer comes he goes 
 off that she may be free to decide. 
 
 The lawyer is patient and cunning. “ Of course 
 it is painful — at first — to be away from the good 
 man who has sheltered her, out he is already old 
 and failing and she should think of him and the 
 repose riches would bring him.” “ She is so often 
 suffering ? ” “ Ah, yes.” “ Already her husband 
 
 exerts himself beyond his strength to provide for 
 her helplessness ? ” “ Ah indeed yes ! ” “ And 
 
 he has to train the little boys to the same risky 
 business to take his place ? ” With tears, “ Yes.” 
 
248 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 “ Did not her husband marry her to protect her 
 when she was a forlorn little nobody, and now 
 that she knew she was a noble and could do every- 
 thing in return and make his old age all comfort 
 would she be less generous than Pailliasse had 
 been? Her grandfather is ill — he is in sus- 
 pense — will she disappoint him and condemn her 
 family to poverty growing greater as time goes 
 on ? ” And so he leaves her. 
 
 Poor tempest-tossed soul ! But she must decide 
 at once. Pailliasse comes in, and in a storm of 
 tears and grief she pours out her torment of inde- 
 cisions. 
 
 With the exaggeration of unselfishness which 
 belongs with great love, he tells her she must 
 leave him. But the children he will not give up 
 — they are his and shall grow up to earn their 
 bread as he and his people have done. She begs 
 for her children, and the mother’s feeling almost 
 melts him when — unfortunately — she goes on 
 to say it was not alone the danger, but already 
 the eldest shrinks from it as she does. “ Often I 
 have felt disgust as they crowded about you with 
 
THE QUEEN AND THE PEASANT. 
 
 249 
 
 their coarse loud laughs — there was something in 
 me that rose against this humiliating future for 
 him — I know now what it was — it was the blood 
 of my race that which revolted at this.” {C'etait 
 le sang de mon race qni se revoltait contre cette avenir 
 de Pailliasse.) 
 
 Here fell a dead silence. The woman is awed 
 into wonder as she gazes on her husband who 
 seems transformed by the rush of new perceptions 
 coming over him like an advancing wave, with 
 more and more cold dashes as he recognizes how 
 his wife had been thinking of him — he who had 
 been so proud of the strength and skill that en- 
 abled him to make her life easy. And that skill 
 had only “revolted” her. He does not speak, 
 but his eloquent countenance — the long look he 
 gives his strong arms as he stretches them out, 
 then lets them drop with a bitter smile — you 
 feel “ his occupation’s gone.” 
 
 At last his great manly affection for her domi- 
 nates all personal feelings and he seems transfig- 
 ured by the sacrifice of self as he turns with in- 
 finite gentleness to the frightened woman. 
 
250 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 “ You must go with your people. And take 
 your children. Perhaps some day their noble 
 blood may also be in revolt against the poor 
 Pailliasse.” 
 
 With a cry of shame and pain she springs to 
 his arms and refuses — refuses to go herself — 
 refuses to leave the man who was so good to her 
 when no one else was — “ My life is in yours ! I 
 will never leave you — Only keep me with you ! ” 
 
 Down goes the curtain. My small girl was 
 weeping against my arm. I was comforting her 
 and drying her eyes (and my own) when I saw 
 the Queen honestly pressing her handkerchief to 
 her wet eyes, with her face softened to loveliness 
 by sweet womanly emotion. Not far ahead lay 
 the great parting from her husband which has so 
 changed all her life. We Americans have to 
 thank Prince Albert for his care for our country 
 even when he knew his hours were numbered. 
 The Queen’s bias lay rather for the South in the 
 opening of our war. Prince Albert, while not 
 having perhaps the same personal sympathy as the 
 Queen, had a larger comprehension of the kinship 
 
THE QUEEN AND THE PEASANT. 
 
 251 
 
 of races and held it as a bond to be cherished 
 and strengthened. The Saxon and Protestant 
 peoples he felt should maintain each other. And 
 he asked of the Queen, with the binding wish of 
 the dying, that she would take no part against 
 the Northern States of America. And in doing 
 as he wished she went against some of her strong- 
 est advisors, and the greater part of the English 
 aristocracy. 
 
 Do you want to know the end of the play ? I 
 do not know it myself. My young one was so un- 
 nerved that we went home, and though I intended 
 reading the play there was no catching up any 
 dropped stitches in that swift-moving time. 
 
 I hope it went well. I hope the grandfather 
 gave them the means to keep happy in their own 
 way. The child lost sight of in the terrible disor- 
 ders of the Revolution had only known the hard 
 side of life and it would have been misery for her 
 to be made over into an idle fine lady, and the 
 peasant blood in the boys 7night have proved 
 worthy of their father and revolted at much in the 
 new conditions. 
 
252 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 But seeing the effect of that domestic picture 
 on the Queen gave me such an insight into her 
 own home-loving nature that by its light I have 
 read her journal and realized how sincere it was. 
 
 It is said that of the Queen’s ministers Palmer- 
 ston and Disraeli were the two who had most in- 
 fluence, and this because they never forgot that 
 she was a woman as well as a queen. 
 
 Soon afterwards, in Paris, while this dramatic 
 presentation of class-hatred was fresh in mind, 
 accident brought us in contact with the ugly real 
 thing — one of the kind of adventures one is will- 
 ing to have had — after they are well over — but 
 most repugnant, and full of bad chances while you 
 are going through with them. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 A MILITARY FETE DAY IN PARIS. 
 
 Ma belle Ville de Paris” 
 
 HIS fond term of Henry iv. for Paris was 
 
 perfectly appropriate to the beautiful city 
 as we first knew it in 1852. Although during the 
 allied occupation of 1814 Wellington had had its 
 boulevards shorn of their noble avenues of old 
 trees, and their great wooded Park the Bois 
 de Boulogne, was also despoiled, forty years of 
 Nature’s healing work and much care and money 
 made a beautiful new park. The English were 
 as cruel as they intended to be in destroying trees 
 which Time alone could create, but that inde- 
 structible love of beauty and grace which belongs 
 in French nature had restored and embellished 
 the many lovely gardens within Paris. 
 
 ?53 
 
254 ' SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 It is not the same now. It must always remain 
 superb and beautiful, but other cruelties have al- 
 tered and vulgarized its special features. The 
 frenzy for building and speculating in city prop- 
 erty which was the result of “improving” Paris 
 during the last Empire, abolished the many charm- 
 ing gardens surrounding the buildings on the 
 grand promenade of the Champs Elysde. These 
 lit up that noble avenue as fresh flowers give their 
 finishing touch of life and grace to one’s toilette. 
 The open work gilded-iron railings, or low stone 
 walls of these ancient pleasure-grounds showed 
 green lawns and flower-beds and tall groups of 
 pink acacias, golden laburnums and ever}'where, 
 hedges of lilacs. Not the scraggly old growth of 
 leaf and stem with scant flowering which every 
 farmhouse knows here, but high rounded masses 
 of bloom like huge hand-bouquets. Long skilful 
 cultivation had trained these to a complete face of 
 blooms — lilac, white, purple, and the feathery 
 pink-lilac. “ Le moi des Idas ” was a fi.xed expres- 
 sion in French poetry and stories. But this was 
 the Paris beloved by and written of by Beranger 
 
A MILITARY FETE DAY IN PARIS. 
 
 255 
 
 and Balzac, and Madame de Girardin and Victor 
 Hugo. Not that of to-day where hard stone re- 
 places trees and grass and flowers. 
 
 When a railroad was to be built from St. Peters- 
 burg to Moscow the engineers were aghast to hear 
 the Emperor call for the map ; and, disregarding 
 all the intervening towns with their necessities of 
 trade and travel, he drew a straight line from the 
 new capital to the old one. And so it was built. 
 
 In the same way, and on the now obsolete 
 ground of putting war foremost, the map of Paris 
 was taken by the second Empire and straight lines 
 ruled remorselessly through streets and buildings. 
 The one governing intention was to have them 
 radiating in clear open lines from centres through- 
 out Paris and connect with its underground ap- 
 proaches. Then, if the formidable '''' petiple de 
 Paris" rose in one of their outbursts of .fury, then 
 — so they planned — cannon could sweep all these 
 approaches and the Empire hold its power. 
 
 The best laid plans 
 Of men and mice 
 Aft gang agcc. 
 
256 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 The fatal attack was made from Sedan, and the 
 furious mob burned the most royal dwelling, the 
 most historically interesting palace I have ever 
 seen. I cannot feel Paris to be itself without the 
 Tuileries. 
 
 But this May-day of ’52 the spring sun could not 
 shine on a fairer, sweeter sight than the gardens 
 of the stately Tuileries, the leaping fountains and 
 groups of statuary in the Place Concorde, thence 
 through the wooded grounds that bordered the 
 Champs Elysees up the gentle ascent of the broad 
 avenue to the Arch of Triumph that terminates a 
 promenade and drive without its equal. 
 
 Not alone for its grand plan of which every de- 
 tail shows cultivated taste and incessant care as 
 well as outlay of money, but for its historic inter- 
 est ; and now the intensely interesting historical 
 pageants again in action on that storied ground. 
 
 We came over from London to witness one of 
 these. There was to be a grand militarj’- revnew 
 on the Champ de Mars ; which has for one bound- 
 ary of its immense parade ground, the Hotel des 
 Invalides, where as you know old soldiers find 
 
A MILITARY FETE DAY IN PARIS. 
 
 257 
 
 their honored home and where also is the tomb of 
 the great Napoleon. On this field an altar had 
 been raised, and the highest clergy of France were 
 to be present and give their blessing to the stand- 
 ards which the tens of thousands of troops would 
 receive at the altar as a religious duty; then, file 
 past in review before the Prince-President and his 
 staff, the diplomatic corps, and the invited guests, 
 who filled the richly decorated platform (“ tribune ” 
 is their word) on either side of him. We had the 
 advantage to be among the invited and so saw 
 everything in perfection. 
 
 But you can read elsewhere of great reviews. 
 The idea in this was the main thing. As in send- 
 ing an Ambassador to England, so now, in restor- 
 ing to the French standards the Imperial Eagles 
 — the emblem of France’s proud years of Victory 
 under Bonaparte — all Europe saw that the inten- 
 tion of this Napoleon was not to keep France as a 
 Republic, but to restore the Empire. Therefore 
 all the rulers of Europe watched this day as keenly 
 and more interestedly than the vast throngs of 
 Parisians, for to them it meant ultimate war for all 
 
258 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 Europe. Looking back, the events string them- 
 selves one after another clearly, but History is not 
 made as quickly as it is read. 
 
 We knew both English and French persons who 
 had every opportunity for good political knowledge 
 and their opinions and beliefs were of deep inter- 
 est. Especially those of an elderly French gentle- 
 man of whom I shall tell you more later ; for he 
 was the embodiment of what was best in an extinct 
 species — the '■‘■grand seigneur'" of old France. First 
 through the introduction of an English friend, and 
 after from his own liking for both Mr. Frdmont 
 and myself, this charming true gentleman became 
 part of our life in Paris, and the friendly intimacy 
 was kept up by letters, and renewed whenever we 
 returned to h'rance while he lived. His eighty-four 
 years had covered the most interesting centuiy of 
 modern times. Through his friendly care we were 
 put on the “ liste intime " and invitations were sent 
 us for evei^'thing belonging with the fetes and 
 balls under the new government for all our stay in 
 Paris. 
 
 We had to make an early start to get our place in 
 
A MILITARY FETE DAY IN PARIS. 
 
 259 
 
 the file which already about nine o’clock stretched 
 from the Place Concorde to the Champs de Mars. 
 
 If I am too detailed remember I am not telling 
 this for those of you who have been there, but for 
 others who, like myself at that time, found all 
 new. 
 
 From every cross-street were pouring soldiers, 
 very small men, but in great numbers. The short 
 small soldiers astonished me. But long wars which 
 used up the men had forced the women to work in 
 the fields — often yoked to the plough with a horse, 
 an ox, and, as I have seen even a cow — had les- 
 sened the vitality of the race, and the French army 
 standard had to be constantly lowered until now 
 their infantry was under five feet. A soldier of five 
 feet eight inches is looked after and admired and 
 the people exclaim “ Qtcel bel hom77ie f ” “ Superbe ! ” 
 and they did not move silently and compactly like 
 a piece of mechanism as you see them with us, but 
 more like schoolboys parading on a holiday — 
 laughing, talking, with loose ranks, but a look of 
 “ fight ” about them all the same. As we drove 
 down the broad avenue of the Champs Elysde, on 
 
26 o 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 which we lived, to the square where the line of 
 carriages was forming, the ground seemed all sol- 
 diers and the air all music ; bands and drums and 
 bugles kept such a ceaseless sound that the air 
 was full of vibrations. The people were out in 
 swarms ; men in blouses, women in caps, gay and 
 good-natured, calling out to one another and to 
 the soldiers ! who in the most unmilitarj'^ manner 
 answered back with chaffing and laughter, turning 
 to “ keep it up ” as they backed while keeping 
 step to the music. 
 
 We had to move along very slowly and found 
 this part already “ a show.” We also found that 
 les blouses^ the laughing women, the little plucky- 
 looking soldiers, all, continuing on from the start 
 through the length of the procession, all, instantly 
 and heartily cursed us as we passed. “ Sacre An- 
 glais !" was their mildest salute, and when we be- 
 came stationary in the file on the square the angry 
 Sact'i Anglais !” became almost a clamor. 
 
 It was because of our unmistakably English 
 equipage. We had brought over from London our 
 whole “outfit” (as our mining slang would put it) 
 
A MILITARY FETE DAY IN PARIS. 
 
 261 
 
 and the perfect coupe with its thoroughbred grays 
 and the two Englishmen on the box, clean-shaven, 
 fair, and impassive, acted on the temper of this 
 English-hating people as the red flag does on the 
 bull. 
 
 They are a very queer people. Carlyle says there 
 are two natures — “Human nature and French 
 nature.” We were to feel more of the unreason- 
 ing caprices of this French nature, but here the 
 crowd was held back and channels kept open by 
 living hedges of soldiers; some of these nearest 
 us crowded close, looking into the windows, and 
 growling rude words, when their wrath was changed 
 to silence and looks of astonishment and apology. 
 Simply because the coupe basket was filled with 
 fresh violets and I wore them on my dress. It is, 
 as you know, the Bonaparte flower. It is also the 
 flower I love best and always have about me when 
 I can get them. That, the soldiers could not 
 know; but the sweet little things pacified them 
 and protected me again later in the day. 
 
 That halt on the “ Square of Peace ” (whose 
 stones were so often red with blood) was a thing 
 
262 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 to remember. To the left was the Tuileries with 
 its personal memories of old French royalty; its 
 long dark bulk rising high against the blue sky. 
 On the right, terminating the splendid vista from 
 the Tuileries up the great avenue, rose the Arch 
 of Triumph — the monument to Napoleon times 
 — its marbles still new, and dazzling white in the 
 sparkling sunshine. Back of us the Church of the 
 Madeleine telling of the unchanging power of re- 
 ligion ; while in front, across the Seine whose 
 every bridge is a record of histoty, loomed above 
 the Legislative Halls and the dark mass of older 
 Paris, the newly-gilded dome of the Invalides, our 
 point for the day. These, all, were rich in that 
 vivid personality with which French history is so 
 invested. In all directions was the dense pict- 
 uresquely-dressed crowd, bordered by troops ; and 
 the air was full of shrill gay sounds that seemed to 
 underlie the hea\ty cloud of military music rolling 
 above us. 
 
 The color of our ticket carried us rapidly past 
 the file to the entrance reserved for those invited, 
 where in the large court-yard of the Invalides our 
 
A MILITARY FETE DAY IN PARIS. 263 
 
 carriage was to wait and we were to return to it 
 there in that quiet place after the ceremonies. 
 
 From the tribune we saw everything — the 
 splendid altar, with the many groups of stand- 
 ards with their glittering new eagles again in po- 
 sition ; the silent pageant of blessing these, and 
 seeing the kneeling soldiers lowering the banners, 
 then rising, march off proudly to their waiting regi- 
 ments ; no loose ranks, no chaff or sound now — 
 when the French soldier is at real military work 
 “ he means business.” 
 
 Paris is so familiar with fine open-air spectacles 
 that the people have their drill in the matter as 
 well as the soldiers, and they go about their part 
 as old play-goers to the theatre, appreciating all 
 the points and scenic effects, criticizing and api- 
 plauding, and giving an atmosphere of complete- 
 ness impossible to the self-contained self-conscious 
 English and American crowds, but ail the more 
 interesting to outsiders as it makes the show more 
 theatrical and spectacular. 
 
 We met on the tribune an English officer, Cap- 
 tain Cathcart, who had travelled with Mr. Frdmont 
 
264 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 on a winter journey across the Rocky Mountains, 
 in ’48, and Mr. Fremont and himself made their 
 own estimate of the troops reviewed ; putting it 
 at forty-seven thousand. The Paris journals said 
 sixty thousand, but we found forty-seven thousand 
 men under arms a very magnificent exhibition. 
 Especially interesting was that small body which 
 represented the past wars and glories of the Grande 
 Armde. The others moved rapidly, passing at 
 double-quick, and the Zouaves on the run ; but 
 these mutilated pages of history walked slowly, 
 halted, and received a special notice from Louis 
 Napoleon ; and they seemed to have real feeling 
 in their cry of “Vive l’ Empereur.” 
 
 Indeed the absence of enthusiasm among both 
 the troops and the people was very marked ; in 
 these seemed to be an undercurrent of opposition 
 or dull indifference. There was no hearty cheer- 
 ing. Sometimes applause for a special reason, as 
 when the “Zou-Zous” made their spirited run- 
 ning, or the Veterans of the Grand Army came 
 slowly and stiffly along, but for the rest you could 
 see it was only one more day of show and excite- 
 
A MILITARY FETE DAY IN PARIS. 265 
 
 ment; and for the night the theatres were to be 
 open free ; the government knowing that was a 
 crowning joy of the people. 
 
 When we came out, returning to the court-yard 
 where the carriage was to wait, it was not there. 
 There were other private carriages which quickly 
 drove off, but we could not get any satisfactory 
 account as to why or when ours had left, or how 
 it was to be found. Nor were there any public 
 conveyances. We found ourselves completely 
 “ left ; ” and the guards said politely but posi- 
 tively, the gates must be closed. 
 
 The dispersing crowds, like waters from a broken 
 dyke, were pouring by in masses and it was like 
 venturing into the surf to go among them. But 
 it had to be done. With proper walking things 
 and clear streets it would have been only a 
 good long walk from the Invalides to the upper 
 end of the Champs Elysed, but my elaborate long 
 dress of silk and lace hampered me and the high 
 heels of my silk boots caught between the cobble 
 
 stones. 
 
266 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 Most fortunately we were taken for French ; and 
 soon saw the protection this made, for two very 
 elegant and handsome English girls and, evidently 
 from the likeness, their brother, had been caught 
 in an eddy of the crowd just near us and were get- 
 ting the most offensive — even cruel treatment — 
 from women all about them. Apparently they did 
 not speak French, and the brother was only mak- 
 ing matters worse by giving way to his indignation 
 in vigorous English. We saw his hat knocked off 
 and his coat-skirts torn away and flourished from 
 hand to hand over the heads of the crowd like 
 captured flags with derisive shouts of A has les 
 Anglais;” and a woman pulled the long yellow 
 curls of one of the girls making the tears spring to 
 her eyes from the pain and insult, while the “ Sacr/ 
 Anglais ” flew thick around them, just as they had 
 sworn at our English equipage in the morning. It 
 was but a light example of the dreadful scenes so 
 often known to those streets during their revolu- 
 tion. 
 
 I was very differently treated, in fact taken un- 
 der their protection. A woman took oft my little 
 
A MILITARY FETE DAY IN PARIS. 
 
 267 
 
 mantilla with its deep lace frill, made it into a 
 compact parcel, and good-humoredly ordered Mr. 
 Fremont to button it under his coat and take good 
 care of it for it would be torn in the crowding if 
 he kept it in his hand — '‘‘‘fatit soigner les dentelles de 
 votre petite dame," she said, with that thrift and also 
 the love for pretty things innate to French women. 
 
 The movement of the swaying eager crowd did 
 roll and hustle everyone like stones upon a beach 
 and all Mr. Fremont could do was to put both 
 arms around me to keep me from being jostled 
 roughly, in which the women aided him — encour- 
 aging me and telling me not to be scared — as 
 they saw I was — and admiring and protecting my 
 dress which they gathered up and packed on my 
 arm. They all noticed the violets in my belt and 
 hat which were as useful to me as a countersign. 
 
 We adapted ourselves to the situation and were 
 careful to say nothing in English — explained that 
 we had missed our carriage — thanked them for 
 every help — and so got along ; halting when the 
 crowd halted, to let regiments pass, then borne 
 along with its rush as it dashed across to another 
 
268 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 Street where there would be another halt for more 
 and more regiments — the cavalry and artillery 
 shouting la has P' women screaming and 
 
 laughing, men swearing and laughing, but not an 
 intoxicated person among them, and so between 
 halts and rushes, and in real danger from excited 
 horses, we finally found ourselves near the bridge 
 of Jena, where the sentries refused to let us pass. 
 Nor could they be bribed. I wish to say here that 
 in all that jam nothing was taken from our pock- 
 ets. 
 
 By this time the stones had cut my thin boots 
 to rags. We had had to leave home verj' early. 
 Now the day was ended and street-lamps lit. I 
 had gone all day on my morning cup of tea and 
 roll, and was about exhausted from hunger, ex- 
 citement and fatigue. Fright too. 
 
 Down on the dark river we saw a boatman in 
 a dingy black punt, and hailing him we consid- 
 ered fortune favored us when he answered our 
 signal of distress and took us on his boat. 
 
 I was only too glad to climb down the slipper}' 
 stone steps cut in the embankment and find rest 
 
A MILITARY FETE DAY IN PARIS, 269 
 
 on the damp seat of the little boat. And soon we 
 were laughing at the boatman. He 
 
 Was nae fou’ 
 
 But jist a drappie in his ’ee. 
 
 and very good-humored to us. Evidently believ- 
 ing that we had missed the carriage on purpose to 
 excuse our getting off together and when he was 
 told to take us as near as possible to some street 
 leading to our locality he just smiled on us and 
 said we need not hurry, he would promenade us 
 as long as we liked. But he was open to a money 
 argument and rowed fast, landing us at a quiet 
 street where we caught a rickety one-horse cab 
 and got back home, as Cinderella did from her 
 ball, in complete contrast to the manner of our 
 leaving. We found the household anxious and 
 alarmed, for the carriage had come back early. 
 Our men had been ordered to drive out of the en- 
 closure ; their ticket was not respected after we 
 left ; they spoke only English and they saw their 
 being English made the mischief. They could 
 not wait in the encumbered streets, so they had 
 
270 
 
 SOUVENIRS OK MY TIME. 
 
 the good English sense to come home. We had 
 been uneasy for them, feeling the temper of the 
 crowd, but no harm came from the day. A few 
 days restored my cut and bruised feet, and I had 
 gained a most unlooked-for insight into the true 
 unguarded feelings of a French street-crowd of 
 the formidable peiiple de Paris. Something of it 
 ■we had realized while in the carriage, but far more 
 by their treatment of those nice English girls. We 
 longed to help them, but were too far off; nor 
 could we have changed the deep-rooted race- 
 hatred which seems ingrained in the popular 
 French mind. They did not mean to hurt those 
 young English people, only to “give them a piece 
 of their (French) mind.” It was the tiger at play, 
 but their flashing eyes and excited voices gave me 
 a shuddering insight into what they could do when 
 their tiger blood was fully up — how they acted and 
 looked when the horrible mob of the Commune 
 burned the Tuileries. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 A NOBLEMAN OF THE OLD REGIME. 
 
 O FTEN, in the earlier morning, I would hear 
 a soft bustle in the anteroom and the sound 
 of a woman’s voice giving directions ; then I knew 
 I had a visit from our delightful old friend the 
 Count de la Garde, and that his servant-nurse, 
 Jeanne, was reminding him not to stay too long. 
 
 On the way back from his regular morning airing 
 in the Bois de Boulogne, he would stop for a visit 
 to me, then leave punctually in time for his mid-day 
 breakfast. 
 
 Medes and Persians are fickle compared to 
 French laws for the care of health, and regular 
 and good food they justly consider as of vital im- 
 portance. 
 
 If the Count forgot the hour he would be re- 
 minded by Jeanne, a motherly middle-aged upper- 
 27* 
 
272 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 class servant who attended him always. She would 
 bring in his douillette^ a long, wadded wrapper of 
 gray silk — a garment resembling the long quilted 
 Japanese gown — and wrap him in it carefully be- 
 fore he quitted the warm room. “ We begin and 
 end with women-nurses,” he would say ; “ men are 
 not patient or sensitive enough for infancy and 
 age.” 
 
 The good Count was already well past his three- 
 score and ten, but he had no intention of dying 
 yet. He used to say, “It is not the right mo- 
 ment just at present. I want to see the outcome 
 of this political upheaval which has brought the 
 Bonapartes again into power. Je me cramponne d 
 la vie. * ” 
 
 He had seen so much ! He loved to tell me the 
 personal inside part of all that terrible drama of 
 which France was the theatre in his boyhood ; of 
 his wandering life of exile and poverty in Sweden 
 and England which followed ; of fortunes restored 
 through Bonaparte — of the overthrow of “ CE 
 GRAND HOMME ” ; the brief restoration to the 
 * In our expressive slang that would be *' 1 do not mean to lou 
 
A NOBLEMAN OF THE OLD REGIME. 273 
 
 throne of the Bourbons, and their family cabals 
 ending with the reign of Louis Phillippe. And 
 now, again a Bonaparte. “ Decidedly I must live 
 on,” he would say ; “ ce^i m’ mterresse." 
 
 And he did live for ten years longer. Whenever 
 I was abroad we resumed our pleasant acquaint- 
 ance, and he wrote me the most delightful letters 
 when I was back at home. 
 
 Dying, he bequeathed me a precious collection, 
 which he had selected for me from among his 
 treasures, to illustrate topics we had talked upon. 
 My part was to listen, though my father’s tastes and 
 training fitted me to be the kind of listener that 
 encouraged the memory and talk of one who had 
 lived through those great days. There are in this 
 collection original letters, and autograph and in- 
 timate personal letters, from almost all the mem- 
 bers of the Bonaparte family. An ivory miniature 
 by Isabey for which Bonaparte sat in 1804, other 
 heads — one full of a stern cruel power, which I 
 lent to the sculptor, Launt Thompson, as the true 
 war-head on which he made a statue to order from 
 France. Josephine from youth to age; poor vain 
 
*74 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 weak tender-hearted Josephine; I like her thinned 
 temples and cheeks and sunken eyes better than 
 her looks as Empress ; they shew both tenderness 
 and character. And many, water-colors as well as 
 engravings, of Queen Hortense. Through a mar- 
 riage between his father’s family and a “Fanny de 
 Beauharnais,” Hortense and her brother Eugene 
 were his near cousins. The authenticated page 
 from the “ Golden Book of the nobles ” accompa- 
 nied these portraits giving the family connection 
 in full. And there is a most interesting steel en- 
 graving of J osephine’s first husband, the Marquis de 
 Beauharnais ; a head of the old type of nobles, not 
 so much disdainful as absolutely unconscious of the 
 world at large. Very handsome too. Thin,“ lofty ” 
 features and an expression of extreme reserve and 
 yet gentleness. 
 
 This same reserve and yet a most winning gentle- 
 ness, was the characteristic of the Count de la Garde 
 himself. A gentleness so innate that in telling 
 of the most cruel scenes of the revolution — which 
 as a boy of ten he fully appreciated ^ no harsh ex- 
 pression escaped him, which we might think only 
 
A NOBLEMAN OF THE OLD REGIME. 275 
 
 befitting. “ My mother, and all the women I knew 
 at that time, remain with me as a vision of tears, 
 of prayer, of tender consolation to one another, 
 of constant secret endeavors to earn money with 
 which to save some failing life, for all were made 
 one common family by the common calamity. 
 
 His father had been one of the ministers in the 
 last Cabinet of Louis xvi. His mother had among 
 her family that gallant Count de Fersen, ambassa- 
 dor from Sweden, who risked his life to save those 
 of the King and Queen. You remember how the 
 pig-headed Bourbon lost this last chance by insist- 
 ing on a hot supper — the time wasted to roast 
 a chicken allowed them to be overtaken near the 
 frontier and all was lost through the selfishness, the 
 unrestrained greediness of an otherwise fairly kind 
 and good man ; an uncommonly good man as Kings 
 went in his time. 
 
 Another relative was the brilliant and famous 
 Prince de Ligne, whose portrait is enough to ex- 
 plain the rage against “ aristocrats.” The mould- 
 ing effect of habits of thought and action is fright- 
 ful. We do, each one of us, stamp ourselves on our 
 
276 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 faces, our gestures, and our manner of moving as 
 well as speaking. 
 
 There is a collection of Watts’ Portraits at the 
 Art Museum here which is wonderfully in proof of 
 this. But you can all see it for yourselves in the 
 daily free exhibition of common life. The thing 
 that tries me is the number of anxious or shrewd 
 faces among little babies. The thoughts of their 
 fathers and mothers have told on them — poor little 
 creatures. 
 
 But the sw'eet mothers w'ho prayed and w'orked, 
 while tears were wrung from them by distress they 
 could not remove, transmitted their saving influ- 
 ence too. Certainly no man could be more hum- 
 bly aware of our human w'eakness and helplessness 
 than the Count de la Garde ; the lesson of his life 
 remained with him as its awful proof. But w'ith 
 this he had an elastic sweetness and light-hearted- 
 ness, a simple philosophy of cheerful acceptance 
 and intelligent shaping for the best of what did 
 come to him, w’hich has been a distinguishing fea- 
 ture of the good French. Of the common people 
 as well as those trained to comprehension. 
 
A NOBLEMAN OF THE OLD REGIME, 277 
 
 Paris was very homelike to me from the start. 
 It was only a splendid amplification of the old 
 French life of Saint Louis to which I had grown 
 up. I was happy to have again French servants 
 about me, and though it is diverging a great ^deal 
 let me tell here that not one change was made 
 among my first household there during a fourteen 
 months stay. Two of them came back with me to 
 America, one living with me fifteen years, and an- 
 other twenty. I would write that I was coming 
 over and when I reached Paris I would find the 
 old servants ready for me if I was to make some 
 stay and keep house. If to travel only, there was 
 one man who was always ready, even coming here 
 once when suddenly needed. 
 
 Going back after a four years’ absence, I wrote 
 from New York to ask the dear old Count to dine 
 with us the Fourth of July. We landed at Havre the 
 first of July. When he found the same men waiting 
 on him at table, and had a favorite dish offered him 
 and was told the same cook had prepared it as he 
 used to prefer with a simple sauce-blanche (which 
 means cream and chicken gravy usually), he broke 
 
278 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 out into exclamations over our “ wonderful Amer- 
 ican heads ” that could organize such results at 
 such a distance and when we had ^‘that serious, 
 that dangerous ocean voyage to make ! ” That 
 ocean always lent us its own vastness and vague- 
 ness. The channel was his one sea-going experi- 
 ence, and ours was as three thousand miles to 
 that twenty-seven. 
 
 We knew him first through an English friend 
 who had said “ You will find in him the lost type of 
 the Grand Seignieur^' as he was. Noble in all re- 
 spects. And we were to him a study. He said I 
 W'as “the first American lady he had known. Not 
 but that I have met charming Americans, but they 
 were not original ; only charming copies of the 
 Parisian women — channanta mais ioujours des 
 copies.''' 
 
 Our living in a whole house to ourselves, our 
 keeping the children at home and having the gov- 
 erness in place of a school, the baby, then a year 
 old — all these surroundings of family “ transported 
 from continent to continent ” and across “ Cette vaste 
 Atlantique ” gave him new ideas of Americans. 
 
A NOBLEMAN OF THE OLD REGIME. 279 
 
 “ And yon have the cleanly morning habits of the 
 English too,” he said finding me always ready for 
 his early visits; and my French, and my intimacy 
 with the personnel of French life in domestic and 
 political and military aspects all delighted him. 
 
 How much more was I delighted by him. My 
 letters about him to my father opened an acquaint- 
 ance between the two, and I became their medium 
 on some interesting points of French modern his- 
 tory. 
 
 All these letters from me, many letters to me 
 which I treasured, were in my father’s house when 
 it was burned in ’55. 
 
 Tout passe. 
 
 From his family-rights of intimacy the Count de 
 la Garde could ask anything he wished of the new 
 government. Himself going nowhere, for excite- 
 ments he avoided, he intended us to see to the 
 best advantage all there should be to see. From 
 the first military fete which gave back to the army 
 the Imperial Eagles, throughout all our stay, cards 
 were sent us from the Tuileries for every fete, or 
 ball, or fine occasion where the Court took part ; 
 
28 o 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 both at home and at the great balls and fetes given 
 to it. 
 
 The English coachman and footman we sent 
 back to England by the advice of experienced 
 friends. Indeed the men showed so much fight 
 that we should have been victims to their inter- 
 national quarrel had they remained. An Irish 
 coachman who had grown up in Paris and was 
 willing to conform to their street regulations, and a 
 French footman, put us on a peace footing. One 
 regulation was for the coachman to cry out his 
 warning aloud as he drove. No London coachman 
 on a private carriage would demean himself to 
 this law. The street boys and men, “ les gdmins ” 
 and les blouses," rather liked to get in the way 
 and get a little knock down. Then they had a 
 right to a fixed sum in money from the carriage- 
 owner and had a nice idle time in hospital. It 
 sounded very vulgar to me to hear my man calling 
 right and left, but all had to do so; “ Gare la las" 
 (Look out there), 'Giey la las" (mind down there). 
 But Peter was a good coachman as well as an 
 adaptable man and we had no more bad advent-' 
 
A NOBLEMAN OF THE OLD REGIME. 28 1 
 
 ures. He too came over to America with an 
 American gentleman to whom I recommended 
 him, Mr. Charles Astor Bristed. Here he could 
 drive in silent dignity which however relaxed into 
 nods and smiles when he met in the Park our chil- 
 dren and their ponies and would answer to their 
 “ Hello, there’s our Peter.” 
 
 I ought to be “ talking Kings and Queens ” and 
 wars and fine fetes, but the underneath of our 
 lives — so much that makes its usefulness by an 
 unruffled smoothness, and pleasant atmosphere of 
 willing intelligent service — depends on those near- 
 est us, servants as well as family, that I like to re- 
 member the good French servants who made so 
 long a part of my life. 
 
 We went forth from a home-atmosphere of per- 
 fect harmony throughout, and most lovely surround- 
 ings, into the fine palaces and had nowhere a jar 
 to the sense of completeness. 
 
 As it was summer the Prince President gave a 
 “ thi dansante ” at St. Cloud, the favorite summer 
 palace of Marie Antoinette, after, of Josephine. 
 The town of Sevres lies outside of its grounds and 
 
2S2 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 the royal factory of porcelain furnishes some of the 
 most beautiful objects in the palace. There was a 
 most brilliant and exquisitely dressed company, but 
 not, as at court in England, the old names and 
 great nobles of the country. These would have 
 suffered exile rather than make part in that society. 
 But people are people to the uninformed eye and 
 although practised eyes gave us a running catalogue 
 with comments on those who were there, it did not 
 hurt the picture to me. And having grown up 
 among fine china and its lovers, I was most happy 
 in the beautiful room where tea was served. The 
 usual many mirrors repeated all the beauty within 
 and the picturesque groups that walked on the ter- 
 race upon which it opened. Far below the steep 
 hill was the Seine, and the Bois de Boulogne lay 
 between the river and the city four or five miles 
 away. A full moon was shining on this and made 
 a perfect picture as we sat by one of the great open 
 windows — opening to the floor as they do in France. 
 All about the room were small tables with large 
 comfortable arm-chairs and short sofas drawn up 
 to them. The tables were inlaid with paintings on 
 
A NOBLEMAN OF THE OLD REGIME. 283 
 
 china, the tea equipage, complete on each table, 
 was of varied and loveliest Sevres, the small tea 
 kettle alone being of silver. There were in this 
 way pinks and pale blues, and white or buff tea 
 setts, and with the love for harmony in color be- 
 longing with French taste one would see ladies 
 assort themselves to the color on the tea-table. 
 
 Louis Napoleon was even more dim-eyed and 
 silent and absorbed than later, after years of secur- 
 ity relaxed him somewhat. There was no “ pre- 
 senting.” He entered, followed by a train of ladies 
 and gentlemen brilliant in dress and diamonds and 
 uniforms, walked through the parted lines of guests, 
 bowing (without looking) right and left, and seated 
 himself where the diplomatic corps were grouped. 
 With him, on his arm, was a lady, young tall and 
 of great beauty of the dark order. Her very black 
 hair was simply put back and coiled low at the 
 back of her neck ; with her clinging soft white 
 drapery which had no ornament but a broad band 
 of gold embroidery around the bottom, she looked 
 like a noble statue — the arms were ungloved and 
 quite bare to the shoulder, as everybody has worn 
 
284 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 them of late without the justification nature gave 
 her for there was not a line out of drawing in her 
 whole stately beautiful person. A coronet, a col- 
 lar, and bracelets of immense lustrous pearls fitly 
 completed her classical toilette. This lady how- 
 ever only represented money. She was the wife 
 of a banker who had staked great sums on the suc- 
 cess of Napoleon. And he never forgot his friends. 
 
 The last time I drove through the palace grounds 
 of St. Cloud was after the Franco-Prussian war. 
 I got out and walked about the broken charred 
 ruins of this lovely palace; but that night we saw it 
 in its old loveliness and the moonlight drive home 
 across the Bois was a dream of satisfaction. 
 
 Telling of it all to the Count de la Garde he 
 talked much with me of the Prince President. He 
 had known him, a child, at his mother’s home in 
 Switzerland, the chateau of Arenenberg. She 
 would say of the elder boy, who was very animated 
 and gifted, “Yes, he is all that — but my little 
 silent Louis, qiii botide apart, (who sulks alone,) has 
 the head for governing. He loves power. He 
 loves nothing else — not even himself.” And 
 
A NOBLEMAN OF THE OLD REGIME. 285 
 
 again the Count would say, Ce nest pas le moment de 
 mourir ; il me faut le dernier mot de feci." 
 
 The next word was the formal declaration of the 
 Empire December 2d. 
 
 Kinglake and some other writers have said the 
 Emperor had not personal courage. 
 
 That day it was tested. 
 
 The Republicans who had put him in power 
 warned him he should die if he altered the repub- 
 lican form of government. 
 
 We saw his official entrance as Emperor. This 
 time from our own house as the procession came 
 into Paris from St. Cloud and passed down the 
 Champs Elys^es to the Tuileries. Our house being 
 midway between the Arc de Triomphe and the 
 Palace we saw everything from our own balcony. 
 We had been told privately, and were further offi- 
 cially notified, that each house would be held re- 
 sponsible for the conduct of its inmates. We were 
 very safe that no shot or angry word would proceed 
 from ours. There were some agreeable American 
 friends in town whom we asked to come and break- 
 fast with us after watching the parade from our 
 
286 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 balcony, but judge of my annoyance when a number 
 of persons — twenty at least — quite strangers to 
 me, came, led by an American lady I did know, 
 but would not have invited on this occasion as she 
 was very much of a politician and loud in her de- 
 nouncement of the Emjieror. She had lived much 
 in Paris and had always about her a set of wild- 
 eyed long-haired young men who talked of Liberty 
 and Tyrants. 
 
 There could not have come a set of people who 
 could make me so anxious and uncomfortable. 
 They quite spoiled the day for us, the responsible 
 people. And they quite spoiled our pretty break- 
 fast to my invited friends for all had to be altered 
 to a stand-up luncheon. 
 
 It was a serious moment when Louis Napoleon 
 came in sight. One shot, and confusion would re- 
 turn to France. 
 
 He had used the Republicans to get into power 
 and now he was breaking every- obligation to them. 
 He knew he had deserv-ed all their anger and 
 hatred. 
 
 Whether he had courage or not I do not know. 
 
A NOBLEMAN OF THE OLD REGIME. 287 
 
 What I do know is that I saw him ride, alone, no 
 troop?, not a single officer within forty feet of him 
 to his front or rear and open space on either side 
 of him, along the broad avenue densely lined by 
 crowds. Quite separated and alone. His head 
 bare. In one hand he held the reins. In the 
 other his hat. Only his horse was to share any 
 harm that might come to him. To us, the thrill 
 of response .to such evident calm courage, came 
 with sudden conviction and the applause from 
 our balcony was strong and sincere. The vdld- 
 eyed-men were good enough only to look their dis- 
 pleasure, while the lady who brought them, and 
 who was wonderfully well-read, recited instance on 
 instance where one act of daring had captivated 
 and misled the public. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 PARIS. 
 
 ^ I ''HE English embassy of that time was more 
 dignified and imposing in its receptions 
 than the actual Court, which still remained at the 
 neighboring palace of the Elysee Bourbon — now 
 changed in name to suit the Bonaparte occupant. 
 
 When Wellington held Paris during the allied 
 occupation he bought for the English government 
 one of the largest and most stately of this neigh- 
 borhood of palaces ; where, with high walls and 
 gates and a deep courtyard separating them from 
 the street, they had also in the rear small parks 
 with noble old trees. Apparently Wellington did 
 not find it a necessary “military precaution” to 
 cut down these trees. They make a stretch of 
 wooded ground separated from the trees of the 
 Champs Elyse'es by only a narrow street. Some of 
 
 3S8 
 
PARIS. 
 
 289 
 
 these palaces have sold of late for many millions 
 of our money. Wellington gave but a hundred 
 and twenty thousand dollars for this magnificent 
 framing for his country’s representation. With 
 that England gives an immense income to her 
 minister there, and special allowance for all state 
 feasts. That for the Queen’s birthday was always 
 the most splendid. 
 
 I was there just before going to the evening at 
 St. Cloud I have told you of, and felt the marked 
 difference in the tone of the company. The Queen’s 
 portrait, in royal robes, w'as placed as she stands 
 when holding a Drawing-room, and was treated 
 with almost the deference given to the Queen her- 
 self. The large picture rested on a raised dais, 
 with hangings around and above it of scarlet and 
 gold and the steps of this throne were also cov- 
 ered with the same velvet. No seats were in that 
 room except the few reserved for the Prince Pres- 
 ident and his family ; represented then by his 
 cousin the Princess Mathilde Demidoff, as it was 
 many months before his marriage. 
 
 We have no private buildings which give any 
 
290 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 idea of those residences built by the great nobles 
 before the revolution. The size and height of the 
 rooms, their continued succession on the same 
 floor — their splendidly frescoed ceilings and lav- 
 ish gilding — the immense windows opening upon 
 their own secluded parks reflected in the long 
 mirrors lining the walls opposite the windows, 
 made an effect of space, of light, of greatness not 
 known to the richest private modern buildings. 
 
 From the main body of the house stretched a 
 long wing on either side ; one beins: the state din- 
 ing-room, the other the ball-room. This opened 
 by a high, draperied arch to the “Throne-room,” 
 and as seen from the ball-room the Queen herself 
 appeared to be looking on. 
 
 This night England’s royal flower, the Rose, was 
 the only flower used for the decorations. The 
 walls of the lofty ball-room were entirely cov- 
 ered by growing roses, a clever framework of 
 wood upholding the blooming plants which were 
 so arranged that only a surface of continued roses 
 and fresh green leaves met the eye. Garlands of 
 roses swung across the faces of the mirrors, and 
 
PARIS. 
 
 291 
 
 the dark rich frescos of the ceiling and polished 
 dark inlaid floor framed in all this sweet blush of 
 color. Only wax-lights were used in the many 
 chandeliers and side-lights of quivering prismatic 
 Venetian glass. 
 
 All wore roses — on the dress and in their bou- 
 quets. The open space between the wings had 
 been roofed over, far overhead, with a scarlet 
 striped awning — and converted into a rose-garden ; 
 mosses covering the pots, and rich green carpet- 
 ing making the paths. Surrounding this was, on 
 three sides, the illuminated palace with music 
 floating on the air from its many open windows, 
 and from the band placed in the grounds on the 
 fourth side. 
 
 The Minister himself was Lord Cowley (whose 
 father had for so long resided there as Minister 
 before him), the nephew of the Duke of Welling- 
 ton. It added to the feeling of English perma- 
 nence and stability to have one family in this man- 
 ner representing their country for nearly half a 
 century. 
 
 The best French as well as the best English 
 
292 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 and other society met there. Very clearly-defined 
 differences among them, but all of the proper sub- 
 dued dignified tone belonging with the presence 
 of royalty. There was nothing of this at St. 
 Cloud. That was only a gathering of well-bred and 
 beautifully dressed people of good society in a 
 lovely old palace. But there was no special im- 
 print of idea — no unity or undertone that one 
 feels without reasoning over. 
 
 The supper-room was equally superb. An Eng- 
 lish friend who lived chiefly in Paris made the 
 evening complete by his knowledge of everyone. 
 An old Washington friend of my mother’s was then 
 a guest of Lady Cowley and had known me from 
 my babyhood. Her father, Governor Vanness of 
 Vermont, had known Lafayette well and had him 
 much at his house. Later when Governor Van- 
 ness was Minister to Spain, his two daughters 
 were married while they were abroad ; one to an 
 American, Mr. Roosevelt, the bride being invited 
 by Lafayette, who seems to have always cherished 
 his American associations, to spend the honey- 
 moon at his country seat, La Grange ; the other 
 
PARIS. 
 
 293 
 
 married an Englishman, Sir Gore Ousely, and, 
 though living in India and England, yet kept her 
 warm recollections of American friends. Lady 
 Cowley was also sister-in-law to my friend Lady 
 Bulwer, so I was among people who knew me and 
 I felt all the more pleasure from being of, as well 
 as in, the company. 
 
 A feeling impossible to me in the great French 
 entertainments where I was an outsider and spec- 
 tator only. 
 
 There came to be a great many of these when 
 the Emperor married. The astonishment, and in- 
 dignation too, of French people — high and low — 
 was great when they knew it was to be only a lady 
 of society, and not even a Frenchwoman, who was 
 to be their Empress. 
 
 All Paris knew her by sight and her fine horse- 
 manship made her specially noticeable where so 
 few women rode ; and her undeniable beauty was 
 offset by an equally undeniable “loud style.” 
 
 The Italian opera of Paris is a small house 
 holding only about eighteen hundred people and 
 every one is distinctly seen and heard. Long be- 
 
294 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 fore I knew the name of the lady, or had any idea 
 connected with her than that she was so beautiful 
 I was always glad to look at her, I was often sur- 
 prised by the noisy talking in her box — so con- 
 trary to the usage among a foreign musical audi- 
 ence. One night while Madame de la Grange was 
 singing in one of the most delicate passages of 
 Lucia the listening silence was broken by a dis- 
 tinct and prolonged laugh from that box. Half 
 the heads in the house turned that way ; another 
 and another laugh followed, and to that answered 
 a volley of hisses, showing the house would not 
 tolerate this disregard of and infringement upon 
 the enjoyment of the many, by any one person. 
 
 It was noticed that after the marriage when the 
 Emperor and Empress made the round of all the 
 theatres and opera the Italiens was the last place 
 they visited. And then she seated herself with 
 her back to the house. But the other wall of the 
 Imperial box was all mirror and so the whole fig- 
 ure was given. 
 
 She looked more exquisite and lovely that night 
 than I ever saw her — much more so than on the 
 
PARIS. 
 
 295 
 
 day of the marriage when she was very pale and 
 her features contracted and almost hard in ex- 
 pression. 
 
 But this night her dress suited her. It was of 
 palest pink satin entirely covered with narrow 
 overlapping ruffles of Brussels lace — fine and 
 feathery in its softness. Fastened to her hair be- 
 hind was a small veil of the same lace which she 
 drew around her mantilla-fashion and a pink rose 
 nestled behind the ear. Josephine’s famous pearls 
 which had been lent to Madame Walewski to fit 
 her out as Ambassadress, were now restored to 
 duty as crown-jewels. Josephine had not been 
 like our early Washington — ^she could and did 
 tell a little pack of stories as to how she came by 
 these pearls, but she was no match for Bonaparte 
 who frightened the truth from her and made her 
 miserable about them — but ail the same kept them. 
 And now they were adorning another Bonaparte 
 empress. 
 
 The French pulpit and the French Senate spoke 
 through Monseigneur Dupanloup and the Senator 
 Dupin-Aine' anJ made their solemn warning to 
 
296 
 
 SOXrVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 France — during the high days of success and 
 splendor of that French court. When you read of 
 the facts brought to knowledge by the lurid light 
 of the Franco-Prussian war, and know the dread- 
 ful jobbery and emptiness which was behind the 
 parade of the French army you will understand 
 one effect of money having been put in place of 
 character in high posts. 
 
 The Empress is a broken woman now — the lone- 
 some, cruel death of her only son, a fine amiable 
 lad, softened feeling towards her, and it is not a 
 gracious task to go back to such hard truths ; but 
 one evil of that time has not diminished, an evil 
 dating conspicuously from that Empire, and from 
 the Empress, exacting that no lady should come 
 before her in the same dress twice. There is no 
 calculating the spread of this development of dress 
 being made first, last, and always, the test of posi- 
 tion. I find I cannot turn myself from the feeling 
 that I must say something of it, although this 
 should properly be a paper to amuse and not to 
 moralize. Especially as I cannot have the space 
 to show it to you as I have seen its contagion in- 
 
PARIS. 
 
 297 
 
 vade simpler homes and countries and bring dis- 
 content and debt — -and worse. 
 
 But the day of the marriage we did not see that. 
 We saw a splendid procession of troops, horsemen, 
 and the quick-moving, fiery-eyed small soldiers, of 
 picked grenadiers and the splendid “ Cent Gardes,” 
 all in new and glittering uniforms, emerging from 
 the grand Court of the Tuileries and pouring like 
 a fast-running stream into the cleared street where 
 soldiers made the border and tens of thousands 
 of brightly dressed people were like wild flowers 
 thick on the banks. 
 
 I had not again risked myself in a crowd. It 
 was an “ all-day show ” and we had taken a cor- 
 ner room of a building, so placed that its project- 
 ing corner window and balcony gave us the view 
 of the bridal procession as it left the Tuileries and 
 came directly down a light descent into the broad 
 street along which we commanded its full view as 
 it progressed towards the Cathedral of Notre Dame 
 where the ceremony was to be performed. We 
 had our invitations for the church — but a crowd 
 indoors is more suffocating than even my street 
 
298 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 experience, and so we went very early to our pre- 
 pared look-out and were comfortable in our own 
 way. Having a bright wood fire and cosey break- 
 fast and the children safe, though they were nearly 
 wild with the music, the horses, the different splen- 
 did bodies of troops. Ten months living on the 
 Avenue of the Champs Elysees with its daily exhi- 
 bition of the world’s wealth as well as the special 
 features of French military and social magnifi- 
 cence, had made them critical connoisseurs. 
 
 There was one most interesting venerable figure 
 — a man of eighty, but sitting his spirited black 
 horse like a young officer. The Marechal de Loes- 
 tine represented the remains of those great French 
 Marshals who had overset thrones, changed the 
 map of Europe and forced all Europe to ally to- 
 gether to terminate their victorious career. 
 
 Punctually, so e.xact to the moment that with a 
 look at the clock the young heads would turn to 
 the window, and there sure and true to the time, 
 would the Marshal be seen riding past on his long- 
 tailed black Arab — a present from the Sultan of 
 Turkey. At the proper distance behind him fol- 
 
PARIS. 
 
 299 
 
 lowed on another young and fine black horse, his 
 orderly ; a perfect picture of the “ vieiix mous- 
 tache” erect, grim, his long grey moustache cover- 
 ing his mouth, but his faithful eyes fixed on his 
 master and chief. 
 
 That was a picture we never tired of. All hats 
 went off as the pair passed. They were an em- 
 bodied and true page of glorious days, and soldier 
 and general with their record in common, appealed 
 to all classes. 
 
 This marriage day, when after awhile a clear 
 space followed the dense stream of troops, there 
 came the single figure of the Marechal. His horse 
 as well as himself gorgeous in gala-day dress and 
 excited by the crowds and music showing off its 
 beauty in its light graceful undulating movements, 
 and showing off too the horsemanship of its ven- 
 erable rider. 
 
 Then, slowly advancing, came the bride and 
 bridegroom in a “glass coach” drawn by eight 
 superb English horses — bright bays. This “glass 
 coach” we had seen at the Trianon at Versailles 
 where it was kept among other State carriages of 
 
300 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 past royalty. It had been used by Marie Antoi- 
 nette and Marie Louise, the royal Austrians whose 
 fate it had been to become political hostages to 
 France. High-swung with great length between 
 the front and hind wheels, it seemed more like a 
 great bonbonniere than a carriage; of the shape 
 children know from English fairy-tale pictures of 
 Cinderella’s coach, it was completely of glass ex- 
 cept the floor and the roof and its necessary sup- 
 ports. These were all thickly gilded. On top was 
 a gold crown. The seats were covered with white 
 satin. The Emperor and Empress — for the civil 
 marriage which French law requires to come first 
 had legally made her Empress the day before — ^ 
 sat beside each other ; on the front seat was her 
 ermine wrap and an immense bouquet of orange 
 blossoms. His uniform and stars and orders gave 
 him some brilliancy, but all eyes were on the pale 
 bride.- She must have had the feeling attributed 
 to her ; for everywhere her peculiar look was no- 
 ticed and all the papers, foreign and French, said 
 about the same we thought — and what time proved 
 true — that the French people did not like her and 
 
PARIS. 
 
 301 
 
 that the crowds which were there to see her mar- 
 riage would more eagerly drive her from the Tuil- 
 eries. 
 
 As they did. And but for the Italian Minister 
 M. de Negra, M. de Lesseps, and the American 
 Dr. Evans, they would have taken her life. 
 
 Certainly she was pale to a blanched look of 
 lips as well as cheeks — she who had the purest 
 complexion of tender rose and cream. She seemed 
 a wax image, so still — so controlled — not a look 
 or smile, but an evident painful self-control. 
 
 This, with the Emperor’s half-shut eyes and rigid 
 upright attitude, gave no idea of a bridal pair. 
 Eut the dress was all right. Though there she 
 had given serious offence to not only the French 
 pride but the French pocket. The Queen of Eng- 
 land had her wedding dress made of Honiton lace 
 — the same she gave lately to her youngest daugh- 
 ter to be married in — in order to set a fashion 
 and bring prosperity to English lace-makers. The 
 French lace-makers of Alengon had prepared the 
 veil and dress of the finest Point d’ Alen9on for 
 the bride of the French throne, This she would 
 
302 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 not wear but instead, her dress of uncut white vel- 
 vet was covered with old English point lace and a 
 veil of the same English lace wrapped her. This 
 was a blunder. Coming as you see from the gov- 
 erning passion of Eugenie for costly dress — for 
 old English point is greatly more costly and rare 
 than the most beautiful of modem manufacture. 
 
 She had not been brought up to the duties of 
 royalty which are many and heavy, and require 
 constant remembrance that if accident has placed 
 you in position to govern, the countr}’ to be gov- 
 erned has its rights and usages which must be re- 
 spected. And with all her exquisite beauty, this 
 Empress of France was thoroughly selfish and had 
 none of that gentleness and quick sympathy and 
 consideration for others which made for poor weak 
 stoty-telling Josephine friends in all ranks. This 
 courtesy of the heart is inborn, but its imitation, 
 the courtesy of high good-breeding, can be taught 
 — the two combined make the perfect lady be she 
 queen or quiet gentlewoman. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 MEN, WOMEN AND THINGS. 
 
 T he Count de la Garde had been friends from 
 childhood with Madame Recamier whose 
 lovable disposition was as well known as her re- 
 markable beauty. They had lived near each other 
 in the country where, though of very different 
 ranks, their mothers had a bond in common in 
 good works for the Church and for the poor of their 
 neighborhood. The life of good Frenchwomen of 
 all ranks — and the good make the immense ma- 
 jority — is founded on religion ; and idleness, self- 
 indulgence, waste of time or money, is not known 
 to them. It is a bad stamp on any woman, rich or 
 poor, noble or not, to live only for show and plea- 
 sure. Our Dr. Watts says Satan will find work to 
 do for idle men and boys. He has a greater vari- 
 ety still of bad work for idle women and girls. 
 
 303 
 
304 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 Public sentiment and long usage have settled this 
 matter in France and to this is added the watchful 
 care of the church, and the friendly relation be- 
 tween priest and parishioners is charming. 
 
 I do not speak of Paris where all things are 
 modified by the tides of strangers pouring through 
 and unsettling usages; but even there there is 
 much of this. Outside, in France, it is another 
 life. For Paris is not France. Not any more 
 than New York city is the United States. Although 
 New Yorkers and foreigners think so, we know bet- 
 ter, and that the Daisy Millers and their unhealthy 
 sharp little brothers and feeble-minded mothers do 
 not represent us all. 
 
 “ Cent 7nille Atnericaincs, chaaine ayant cent milU 
 fra7ics en poche, coura7it (a et la, jettant leur arge7it par 
 les grand routes — quel de7)ioralization ! A hundred 
 thousand American women, each one with a hun- 
 dred thousand francs in her pocket, rushing hither 
 and thither, scattering their money broadcast along 
 the highways — what demoralization !” 
 
 This is what a Parisian of age and position said 
 
 to me. 
 
MEN, WOMEN AND THINGS. 305 
 
 “And they come alone! They come for a winter, 
 a year, several years. They put their children in 
 schools and then ''elks s'aniicsent.' Quel fate son/ 
 ils les marls ? (What sort of dough are the husbands 
 made of ? )” 
 
 The difference of language makes of French 
 reading sealed books to those who do not know the 
 language. For, as a rule, no translations are made 
 unless publishers find them profitable. And good 
 books are not so sure to make money for them as 
 bad ones. 
 
 I am not sure that there is a translation of a lit- 
 tle book which gives a lovely picture of plain ordi- 
 nary French life among people of small means and 
 cultivated minds, and “ good positions ; ” a very 
 strong point with them and jealously guarded not 
 by “ appearances ” but hy facts of honorable living. 
 It is called Une famille a la Campagne, and was writ- 
 ten by Madame de Witt, a daughter of. Guizo.t. It 
 is a book to know and be the better for. And it 
 represents better than any light modern book I re- 
 member that atmosphere of honorable economy, 
 of care of their children by the parents and of the 
 
3o6 souvenirs of my time. 
 
 parents by their children ; of simplicity combined 
 with comfort and care of health, and of that sense 
 of DUTY which is the keystone of family and public 
 life, and which does belong to the French as a na- 
 tion. 
 
 This was the public opinion which was both 
 wounded and alarmed by the Second Empire ; and 
 the real France which instantly took up their war 
 debt to Prussia; which is now, dimly, but persever- 
 ingly holding fast to the idea of a Republic and in 
 time will get there. 
 
 Madame Recamier was the greatest beauty of 
 Europe, and her husband one of the wealthiest 
 bankers of France in the early days of this century 
 when the young Count de la Garde was sent to 
 Paris to try and get back some of his family prop- 
 erty. 
 
 Bonaparte wished to please and bring to his new 
 court the great nobles who were in exile, and had 
 announced his intention to benefit those who gave 
 in their adhesion tc him. Many would not. Duch- 
 esses continued to knit purses for sale and live on 
 
MEN, WOMEN AND THINGS. 
 
 307 
 
 scant earnings and small money rather than “ hu- 
 miliate ” themselves. Dukes, marquises, counts, 
 gave lessons in French, in fencing, in dancing, cul- 
 tivated market gardens, did everything they could 
 to support themselves ; and the greater number 
 only returned when the Allies opened the way and 
 put Louis XVIII. on the throne — a selfish and un- 
 grateful monarch who was not, personally, worth 
 their loyalty — but he represented their idea. 
 During the revolution and the long years of pov- 
 erty in foreign lands which followed, the French 
 nobles, women especially, gave a most beautiful 
 sustained example of cheerful courage and fine 
 acceptance of changed fortunes. There is no par- 
 allel to it until we come to our day, and in our own 
 country see it equalled by the way the South has 
 met its tremendous change of fortunes, and the 
 gallant courage and success with which they are 
 building up a new South. 
 
 The count was equipped from the remaining best 
 clothes (ten years old ! ) and a small purse made 
 up for his expenses. With the generous enthusi- 
 asm of youth and the trust of inexperience nerving 
 
3o8 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 him to the attempt to bring back comfort to some 
 of these much-tried families, the young ambassador 
 crossed the dreaded channel and arrived in Paris 
 only to find himself unable to get a hearing at the 
 Department. And his queer costume brought ridi- 
 cule on him from the lesser officials, as well as in 
 the streets. 
 
 English nankeen trousers, French dress shoes 
 with great gold buckles (a survival of flying feet 
 in the “Days of Terror” ), a court dress-coat of 
 dark velvet with gold buttons, and on the shirt, 
 frills of old Mechlin lace — with his boy’s face and 
 long light curls, he must have been queer. 
 
 “For the first time,” so he told me, “the lUtcr- 
 71 CSS of poverty cut me to the heart and angered me. 
 Our poverty was our badge of honorable suffering 
 for a noble cause. We were respected in England 
 and there our equals honored us. But here, in my 
 own country, where my people were Grand Seig- 
 nieurs and had spent and shared their wealth in a 
 grand fashion, here I was only a figure to be 
 mocked at.” 
 
 The poor boy’s heart sank as day followed day 
 
MEN, WOMEN AND THINGS. 
 
 309 
 
 and he still failed to get a hearing. His small 
 stock of money was getting very low. 
 
 It pained him to brave the laugh of the streets, 
 but he faced it as his people had faced danger and 
 death in battle ; he too was doing battle for his 
 father. The mother was at rest where there are 
 no more tears. 
 
 He cut off the curls she had loved — and felt he 
 was a man to do a man’s work for the weak and 
 aged. 
 
 Another sneering refusal to admit him to the 
 Minister gave him the courage of despair. 
 
 He had seen the splendid equipage, and heard 
 the praises of Madame Recamier. for all Paris was 
 proud of her. She was an uncrowned queen of 
 French society. 
 
 He remembered their playmate days in child- 
 hood when they followed their mothers into cot- 
 tages and infirmaries and hushed their young 
 gayety to join in the prayer for the sick or the 
 ministering to the aged. 
 
 “ I will go to hcr,"\\Q thought. And again a re- 
 buff met him. The servants in their fine liveries 
 
310 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 looked down with derision on this strangely-clad 
 and gentle boy. In their eyes lie could not be a 
 gentleman for his clothes were out of all fashion. 
 
 Desperate, his pride rose. “Go to your mis- 
 tress,” he ordered. “Go to Madame Recamier. 
 Tell her it is the young Count de la Garde. Tell 
 her it is To-xo who asks to see Lota (their home 
 pet-names). 
 
 The servant felt the authority and went off — 
 leaving him, however, in the antechamber. 
 
 Quickly came the sound of light footsteps and a 
 voice where tears and joy struggled — “ done 
 moil pauvre To-to" — and hurrying to him out into 
 the antechamber, among the valets, ran the lovely 
 sweet woman crying for all the sorrows of these 
 3'ears but glad to find again her dear playmate 
 the dear child of her mother's noble and gracious 
 friend. 
 
 You can fancy the change towards him now. 
 Not only from the men in livery but from the men 
 in office. M. Recamier took up the cause of the 
 impoverished nobles, and his wife saw Josephine, 
 and quickly all was changed. 
 
MEN, WOMEN AND THINGS. 
 
 3 ” 
 
 Bonaparte was generous, and his graciousness 
 won over other of their noble friends, so the boy’s 
 mission bore good fruit ; and both his father and 
 some of their companions in e.xile had their last 
 years soothed by ease and familiar surroundings. 
 
 “ By birth, and through suffering, I am a royal- 
 ist,” said the count ; “ but I am a Bonapartist 
 through gratitude and (with a quiet smile) partly 
 also through conviction.” 
 
 The manner of marriages among us interested 
 him. “ Extraordinaire ! ” was his comment on 
 its being a matter of mutual choice. It is so dif- 
 ferent in France and especially in his class where 
 it is made first a matter of mutual advantage ; 
 settled for the young people by their parents and 
 their friends. 
 
 He had just arranged a marriage of this kind 
 for the orphan daughter of a friend, and we were 
 invited to the church marriage, and the breakfast 
 that followed at the house of the bridegroom, 
 who was very wealthy and much older than the 
 bride. 
 
312 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 You need not give her any pity. She w ;s entirely 
 contented and would have felt any other way of 
 going about marriage very derogator}'. 
 
 She was not handsome, nor very young, and had 
 but a small dowry. But she was of great family 
 and had powerful and wealthy relations. The 
 bridegroom was of middle age, a Baron of good but 
 not important family, but he had veiy' large fortune. 
 The wedding breakfast was at his house, a beauti- 
 ful though not grand house in the aristocratic Fan- 
 boug St. Germain. 
 
 The Count de la Garde was present at the church 
 and gave away the bride but would not break his 
 habits so far as to be at the breakfast which he said 
 would be too long. He preferred coming the next 
 morning, he said, for me to tell him of it. 
 
 It amused and interested me as the realization 
 of things I had read of. First the bride, who was 
 polite but indifferent and without interest in the 
 occasion. The bride's mother and some other 
 P'rench ladies rather eyed me, but fell into court- 
 esy and questionings; — taking me into a large 
 drawingroom where the ■uuhok trousseau was ex- 
 
MEN, WOMEN AND THINGS. 
 
 313 
 
 hibited from stockings to bonnets. The walls were 
 hung with dresses and shawls and wraps — around 
 the room were many tables covered with piles and 
 piles of “ lingerie ” in many dozens, each dozen 
 tied separately with pretty ribbons — bonnets, par- 
 asols, everything. And house-linen enough for a 
 small shop. While complete parures of pearls and 
 diamonds and many smaller jewels were on the 
 central table. 
 
 “ Do you exhibit all such things in America ? ” 
 I was asked, and was pleased to answer, no. 
 
 We were about twenty-four at the breakfast. Mr. 
 Fremont was placed on the left hand of the bride 
 and I had the same post of honor by the groom. 
 He of course took in the bride’s mother who was 
 not amiable-looking, but very aristocratic — and 
 evidently satisfied with the whole business. Mr. 
 Fremont had a very witty talkative fine-looking old 
 lady, a great deal of a somebody, who was as 
 pleased with him as a child with a new' toy, and 
 was taking him to pieces with questions. She had 
 evidently been coached to points — “ that he was a 
 traveller, etc., etc.,” and she had made a droll- 
 
314 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 jumble of lions and Indians and terrific heats and 
 all she thought it would be appropriate to him to 
 talk of. 
 
 I wms better off, thougn to begin I was asked if 
 we “ had any oysters in America ? ” apropos to 
 those before us I was not asked if we had chick- 
 ens or asparagus, but I did cause surprise by 
 leaving my fork on my plate after each course. I 
 did not notice this until, burning with curiosity, the 
 Prince asked me, “ Do you then in America do as 
 in Kngland and have a separate ‘ convert ’ (knife 
 fork and spoon) for each course. I see your hus- 
 band also leaves his on the plate.” 
 
 It was an old fashioned family, with all old cus- 
 toms and servants, and I was told that except foi 
 fish or dessert only the plates were changed ; these, 
 calmly drew' the knife blade through a bit of bread. 
 And yet the service, dishes and all, was of suberb 
 silver and gold plate fairly embossed with armorial 
 bearings. And the company was to match. The 
 Prince de Montleart who took me in, an elderly 
 sarcastic witty little Italian, was married to the 
 Queen of Sardinia, mother of Victor Emanuel and 
 
MEN, WOMEN AND THINGS. 315 
 
 grandmother to the present King of Italy. He too 
 asked endless questions about usages of American 
 society and concluded we were very like English 
 people only '■‘‘plus souple (more adaptable) ” as we 
 are. 
 
 “ Was I not going to remain always in Paris 
 Why not ? You have all that is needed for success 
 here,” he said, and counted over the requirements 
 as he understood them. “ Many American ladies 
 do remain here — des char77ia}ites exotiques tnvis- 
 plaiiteh.” 
 
 “ But,” I said “ you may transplant flowers, but 
 an oak is not the same rs a flower, and my family 
 roots are in their own soil.” 
 
 “ Ah ! qa — ” he said, turning to fix his look on 
 me. “ You have then your pride of family even in 
 a Republic ! ” 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 AMERICAN MIDSHIPMEN IN PARIS. 
 
 T his chapter is especially for boys. There 
 are no longer “midshipmen” in our Navy; 
 the name so full of meaning, so associated with gay, 
 healthy, honest mischief — and courage and pluck 
 too — is abolished, and so my souvenir of certain 
 youngsters and their young doings belongs with 
 other past and pleasant times. But there will 
 never be an end to the boys who seem to be born 
 web-footed; who wear out volumes of Talcs of the 
 Sea, and One Thousand Stories of Peril of Ship- 
 wreck and Escape; whose sisters read to them 
 again and again not only Robinson Crusoe (of 
 course R. C. leads), but Marrj'att and Cooper; 
 who find comfort in trvdng times of discipline by 
 planning to run away to sea (to be free !) or who 
 
 resolutely go into sea-life and find it fascinating 
 316 
 
TOMB OF NAi’OLEON 
 
AMERICAN MIDSHIPMEN IN PARIS. 317 
 
 while they feel too its loneliness, its separations 
 and its many discomforts. Still they go. And 
 many feel that is their most congenial life. 
 
 I comprehend them, and when I came as nigh 
 as my disability in being a woman permitted, and 
 found myself represented by a “ web-footed ” 
 youngster at the Naval Academy, it became a real 
 enjoyment to me to go often to Annapolis ; to share 
 their ups and downs of Academy life — say a good 
 word for them when they were in trouble with the 
 higher powers, and take nice girls to their “ hops,” 
 and in many ways have part in their lives ; for I 
 was soon voted to be the “class-mother.” 
 
 Very healthy energetic boys have such trying 
 overflow of vitality that often from six to eighteen 
 the finest boys have no friend but their mother. 
 (I knew “ how it was myself,” you see, for I was 
 called “Tom-boy,” and never had an untom dress 
 in my very young time.) 
 
 So I understood boy-nature and knew that what- 
 ever was open, and only the natural outcome of 
 strength and will and courage and fun would come 
 out all right when it settled into working channels. 
 
SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 318 
 
 For the four years of the course I was constant- 
 ly at Annapolis, and if I gave pleasure I received 
 full as much in the honest affection they gave me, 
 and the amusement they gave also. 
 
 One day the Secretary of the Na\y came down 
 w'hile I was on a visit to the officer in command 
 there — Admiral Porter, the distinguished son of 
 a famous father. It was an old friendship between 
 our families and then ourselves. And Admiral 
 Porter had saved my life eighteen years before this 
 San Francisco-born midshipman came under liis 
 care. 
 
 When any one does you a great sendee they like 
 yo\i. The proverb says “ Save a man’s life and he 
 will be yovir enemy ” — perhaps being a woman 
 makes it work the other way, for it is certainly a 
 fast friendship all round with us ; and it was in 
 every way an advantage that my son had such 
 an example and such kind good will over him. Of 
 course the unbending severe rules could not be 
 relaxed, but Admiral Porter had a happy way of 
 noticing and encouraging openly, while his equally 
 just reproofs were made quietly, and every chance 
 
AMERICAN MIDSHIPMEN IN PARIS. 319 
 
 opened for return to good conduct. He was in all 
 ways admirable over young men and boys. 
 
 It was a good deal to do to differ with him, for 
 he knew all sides of their Academy business. But 
 the Secretary, Mr. Borie, and myself did differ 
 from the Admiral as to the annual practice-cruise. 
 Mr. Borie, being half French, thought it well the 
 young people should see France and not repeat 
 year after year the same cruise to Madeira or 
 along our northeast coast. 
 
 As I was just going to Paris I eagerly supported 
 Mr. Borie. The Admiral set out the objections — 
 that the young gentlemen (that is the correct ex- 
 pression) would get into mischief, make trouble 
 with authorities and spend all their money fool- 
 ishly, etc., etc. Brest and Cherbourg were bad 
 enough, but Paris ! to let them go there ! Impos- 
 sible. All the same the order was issued from the 
 Navy Department and the rolling old Savannah 
 carried off her crowd of midshipmen for Cherbourg 
 and Paris. 
 
 And to Paris they came. A hundred and twen- 
 ty-nine as creditable young Americans as national 
 
320 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 pride could wish. Their steady exercises, their 
 trained and disciplined lives, and their perfect 
 decorum and exquisite neatness made them excep- 
 tional lads. For they ranged from fifteen to 
 twenty, and really that is young. 
 
 Three of the number, who spoke French and 
 who had also their families just then in Paris, were 
 sent ahead to carry out the arrangements for the 
 rest. They came up from Cherbourg in great 
 spirits. An unusually stormy passage and an old 
 rolling tub of a ship had kept them long out; and 
 for the concluding eight days they were wet and 
 tired and hungry, as it was nearly impossible to 
 cook. And remember this was a “ practice-cruise ” 
 and the young gentlemen did regular seaman duty; 
 which increased painfully that fine appetite which 
 is one of the characteristics of a midshipman. 
 
 So when the first refreshment station was 
 reached they scornfully rejected what the guard 
 brought them in answer to their order for chicken, 
 bread and grapes. No “ half ’’-chickens for them! 
 No indeed. There, and at each of the three 
 stations, these youngsters had each a whole chicken 
 
AMERICAN MIDSHIPMEN IN PARIS. 
 
 321 
 
 and bread and grapes in proportion, and I can 
 answer for my midshipman being hungry still for 
 two days. And they left at each station the order 
 to have the same-sized ration ready for each of the 
 large number who were to follow next day. Imag- 
 ine the astonishment and delight of such an order 
 in frugal France. 
 
 We were only at a hotel, but had with us one of 
 our old servants who knew this lad when he was a 
 baby and had often comforted him with a lump of 
 sugar after his falls on the slippery parquetted 
 floors which do not favor a baby’s attempts to 
 walk. 
 
 Frangois put his best skill and energies at the 
 disposal of my son’s young friends who were asked 
 by us to make our rooms their headquarters. All 
 day long our dining-room was kept in freshly sup- 
 plied condition for them. Their favorite cold 
 chicken, with many another “ shore ” delicacy, was 
 there ready in unfailing supply. 
 
 That they should all prefer syrups and seltzer- 
 water when there was wine and claret was a won- 
 der to the butler. Also they did not smoke — 
 
322 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 some because they did not like it — all because it 
 was against the regulations. It was one of many 
 proofs they gave of being on honor. This visit to 
 Paris was strongly disapproved of by the Admiral, 
 and the young gentlemen felt more than ever bound 
 to give him no cause for regret that they had this 
 pleasure. 
 
 We had made a little programme for them — as 
 many as chose to come. It is not etiquette for the 
 older classes to go with the fourth or youngest class 
 to which my son belonged, so only about twenty 
 were his guests. Landaus took these to visit the 
 palaces and the Jardin des Plantes with its collec- 
 tion of animals ; and for a drive through the Bois 
 de Boulogne, with Francois guiding and attending 
 to everything. At intervals they came back and 
 “ had some refreshment.” In the evening the 
 General and myself took them to the brightest and 
 gayest spot in Paris — the Palais Royal — where 
 they were so openly admired and looked after that 
 they had a bashful feeling as they sat taking ices 
 at little tables under the trees, and gladly retreated 
 into a shop where each man of them bought a cane ! 
 
AMERICAN MIDSHIPMEN IN PARIS. 323 
 
 Except an umbrella, the most useless thing possible 
 on shipboard. The shopman was amused, and 
 delighted too, asking us if ces jeunes militaires were 
 English ? Proudly we said, “ No, Americains ! ” 
 and their fine modest manners and hearty boyish- 
 ness joined to their remarkably fine appearance, 
 might well astonish people unused to such a whole- 
 some combination. 
 
 It was June and warm. They wore the summer 
 uniform ; blue jacket with white duck trousers 
 and cap, and moved with the elastic grace and 
 precision of high health and drilled muscles. 
 
 The General wanted them each to choose a lit- 
 tle souvenir from us at one of the pretty shops, and 
 their simplicity of tastes pleased us. One chose 
 an ivory pocket-book with smooth rounded sides 
 “ because it looked so like a cake of almond soap.” 
 He is a prosperous married man now and shows 
 me occasionally his “ cake of soap,” for my young 
 people have remained friends with me. 
 
 They were to have but two full days, not count- 
 ing the arriving and departing. Those with fami- 
 lies to answer for them were to have a full week. 
 
324 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 I gave myself the pleasure of taking them to the 
 Tomb of Napoleon — a military Mecca — and after, 
 to Versailles where one of my family had a chateau 
 with lovely grounds, and had ready for them a 
 croquet party and girls / Girls being pre-eminently 
 the highest of “ shore ” delights. 
 
 Punctually our string of carriages was in 
 waiting for the gates of the Invalides to open. 
 One lad, from Missouri, who was in my carriage 
 broke into a chuckling laugh. “ I say. Jack, what 
 fun this is! It makes me laugh to see that bald- 
 headed old fellow (Francois the dignified butler) 
 going round with that velvet bag and paying 
 everything, and we just having the fun of it.” But 
 as the sentries opened the gates, the military at- 
 mosphere told on them all. No more jokes or 
 larking. They fell into ranks, and the couples of 
 handsome tall lads in faultless blue and white 
 uniform stepped as if on parade, their light grace- 
 ful movement pleasing every soldier eye that saw 
 them. The sentries saluted them. And before 
 we were well on our way through the building 
 the rumor of something unusual in visitors had 
 
AMERICAN MIDSHIPMEN IN PARIS. 325 
 
 reached the upper authorities, and an official 
 came to me to say certain rooms and trophies 
 not open to ordinary visitors would be opened to 
 “ les messieurs militaires.” When in crossing the 
 courts, or in the halls my young people had met 
 one of the Invalides — old, hobbling, mutilated — 
 it was no formal salute they made, but, with a 
 right instinct of honor to duty well done in great 
 days, they wheeled in line and lifted their caps. 
 
 At the Tomb itself their bared heads, their 
 respectful manner and correct military attitude, I 
 could see, gratified to the highest our special 
 official, and the old soldiers always on guard there. 
 
 It is a most fitting place for the great soldier to 
 lie. Under that lofty gilded dome among the 
 survivors of the wars that shook all Europe. 
 
 From there we were escorted through the whole 
 building and into its reserved rooms usually 
 opened only to great dignitaries. 
 
 How proudly I answered that they were “ Amer- 
 ican ” you may imagine. It was a thorough sur- 
 prise to the upper officials, who met and showed 
 US models and charts and lots of things the young 
 
326 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 men were charmed with, and proved by their in- 
 telligent remarks they were up to it all ; they had 
 no such idea of Young America. lls ont Pair 
 des Princes^' they said to me. 
 
 What Francois had been saying below I could 
 only guess, but '•'■Madame la Presidente” was the 
 smallest title given me. 
 
 An invitation to the mess-room of the old sol- 
 diers waited the midshipmen, who drank with 
 them some iced coffee and water with a touch of 
 brandy — “ mazagrin ” is the name, and, as one 
 of the boys said to me, “sure as green apples 
 to double you up.” 
 
 Leaving a present to these old souls whose 
 bodies are only comforted by tobacco and such 
 drinks as regulations allow, we came away as 
 pleased as we left them — and I, just too pleased 
 and proud of my fine young countrj-men. 
 
 From Portsmouth (England) their commander. 
 Captain Harrison, wrote me that he knew it would 
 gratify me to learn what the Prefect of the Seine 
 (the same as our Mayor) had written him ; and a 
 copy of the letter was enclosed. 
 
AMERICAN MIDSHIPMEN IN PARIS. 327 
 
 It was to the effect that knowing of the intended 
 visit (by telegram from the authorities at Cher- 
 bourg) and fearing trouble from the presence of 
 so great a number of such young officers released 
 from the restraints of ship life, he had detailed an 
 extra force of police to watch them, and be of 
 use to them, and prevent disagreeable conse- 
 quences. 
 
 That he had the great pleasure to report that 
 not one instance of disturbance, or infraction of law 
 had occurred. 
 
 That he made his sincere compliments to the 
 commanding officer on having such a body of 
 young men in his charge. 
 
 Of the fun these youngsters had by the way — 
 of the visit to Giroux’s, the great toy-warehouse, 
 where a doll was to be chosen, in committee, for a 
 pet little girl ; and where their gayety and fresh 
 enjoyment of the mechanical boat crews and Rob- 
 inson Crusoe out walking with his cat roused the 
 whole place ; of the embarking for Cherbourg 
 and the guard’s astonishment after locking each 
 carriage when it is full, as is their rule, to see the 
 
328 
 
 SOXrVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 men he had locked in pop through the windows 
 and form in square in front of him, jabbering and 
 gesticulating and pretending anger at being locked 
 up — of all this, and the scene of laughing and 
 general fun in which they finally w'ent off with 
 hearty American three cheers — there is not space 
 to tell. But when I meet any of “ my squad ” they 
 are sure to recur to that jolly good time in Paris. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE LITTLE PRINCESS THYRA. 
 
 ACH time we have been in Europe we have 
 
 ^ said, “ This time we must go to Switzerland,” 
 and each time we did not go. In ’69 we were so 
 nearly gone that our mountain hats, stiffened 
 with wire to keep the brims from flapping, had 
 been sent home ; the very short woollen dresses 
 were ready, and we felt nearly there, when a tel- 
 egram came from some friends in Denmark to 
 say that as we intended to visit them we had best 
 come now, and see the festivities on the marriage 
 of the Crown Prince. And swift came another 
 despatch to tell us that as our coming had been 
 spoken of to them, the King and Queen had said 
 they would be pleased to see us at these fetes. 
 
 “Mountains will keep,” we said, “and royal 
 invitations do not come often.” So Switzerland 
 
 329 
 
33 ° 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 was dropped and we went direct to Denmark, get- 
 ting there on a gala day, and the people were all 
 out in holiday finery ; flags were flying every- 
 where, the blue and straw-color of Sweden cross- 
 ing the cherry and white of Denmark, for the 
 marriage was that day taking place in Stockholm 
 between the Princess of Sweden and the Crown 
 Prince of Hamlet’s country. Also a new rail- 
 road, their first connected line from Hamburg to 
 Copenhagen, was just opened, and it seemed to 
 be the thing for everybody to be taking short 
 rides on it, in white gowns with ribbons and 
 flowers, and men and maidens in such open con- 
 tentment that it did one good to see so much 
 simple enjoyment. Excellent good food of holi- 
 day fineness was at all the inns. We had to cross 
 various fiords of miles in width, for Denmark has 
 much the shape of preserved ginger with very 
 deep indentations, and must have taxed the 
 patience of engineers in planning the line. 
 
 It was a mi.xed excursion and way-train and 
 took its time, but they are not large — those 
 European countries. After one of our overland 
 
THE LITTLE PRINCESS THYRA. 
 
 331 
 
 journeys our States seem small. But when you 
 cross France and Belgium and Prussia all in a 
 long day you feel ours is a large country. And 
 Denmark was only a breakfast- to- dinner ride, 
 slowly as we made it. We did not care to go 
 faster. It was a sweet summer day and people 
 and sky were smiling ; only the cattle in the fields 
 were not happy — the locomotive puzzled them — 
 they threw up their heads and dashed away as we 
 neared them. But the deer came to the edges of 
 beautiful parks and looked ; and constantly we 
 saw the farmhouses we know so well through 
 Hans Andersen and — the Stork! Great dull 
 creature, pompous in his stupid dignity, perched 
 on one leg by the nest in the old cart-wheel which 
 the farmers do not fail to place on the roof by the 
 chimney. They think the stork brings luck and 
 give him this much of a fireside welcome. 
 
 As we neared Copenhagen we met more and 
 gayer signs of rejoicing, and fire-works were thick 
 in the air over the city itself. We were well in 
 the spirit of the thing by this time, and a jumble 
 of Hamlet and Hans Andersen governed the boy 
 
332 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 of the party, who protested he would make his 
 entree properly in inky cloak and rapier — the 
 cloak being a lady’s waterproof, and an umbrella 
 doing duty to hold it sharply out behind, while he 
 spouted his lines — when the train drew up and 
 the guard threw open the door, calling “ Kaju- 
 BENHAVjN ! ” for that is the way the natives spell 
 “ Co-pen-ha-gen.” 
 
 “ We shall find the Little Match-Girl round the 
 corner,” said F. “ She will burn a boxful to add to 
 the illumination.” 
 
 We found our rooms ready at our hotel ; our 
 friends glad to welcome us, and a long string of 
 invitations waiting. We had such a charming six 
 weeks in Hamlet-land that I must skip to points 
 that interest girls most, for this is their chapter. 
 
 You know the daughters of that Danish royal 
 house are beautiful and womanly and charming; 
 that they were brought up admirably, in frugal and 
 wholesome ways, for they were not in the direct 
 line of succession and, for their station, were poor. 
 They have their beauty from both father and 
 mother, and their charm of sweet and gracious 
 
THE LITTLE PRINCESS THYRA. 
 
 333 
 
 manner is both inheritance and atmosphere, for 
 the Danes are extraordinarily polite. All classes 
 bow and salute one another in passing, and a pop- 
 ular man has to go almost bareheaded, so often is 
 his hat off. The King himself takes his hat quite 
 off in answer to each salute. “ I am getting too 
 old to stand so much uncovering,” said one very 
 much liked public man to us, “ but it is our custom 
 and I must accept my neuralgias.” 
 
 Hans Andersen enjoyed it hugely — but he be- 
 longs to another number. I only want to tell you 
 of the youngest of the Danish princesses, a girl of 
 fifteen who was to be let to come and dance at the 
 ball given to welcome her new sister. 
 
 I heard of her wild joy over her ball dress and 
 her first high-heeled white satin boots. She had 
 not the great beauty of the Princess of Wales or 
 the Empress of Russia, her eldest sisters, but she 
 was pretty enough, and for a princess very pretty. 
 
 I must tell you of that ball room. The palace 
 itself was centuries old and many immense rooms 
 preceded this. They were all filled early ; and 
 punctually the royal procession emerged from the 
 
334 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 private rooms and passed through one after the 
 other until the ball room with its Throne was 
 reached. 
 
 We had been invited to come at a very early 
 hour and were shown into a large and beautiful 
 salon where on one side were ranged the Ministers 
 of the Cabinet, the Diplomatic corps, and certain 
 nobles of the court. Opposite them were the 
 ladies of their families. Our places were given us 
 and very soon the folding doors were opened at the 
 upper end of the room and the King entered lead- 
 ing the Bride ; the Queen was with her son the 
 Bridegroom. Then came the little princess Thyra 
 (pronounced Tura) and her brother Waldemar, a 
 boy of twelve in knickerbockers. The first lady- 
 in-waiting, Madame de Bille, and another with the 
 historic Swedish name of Oxenstiern, followed the 
 children. 
 
 Quickly, but gracefully and verj' courteously this 
 group passed between our lines with smiles and 
 bows from the royal personages. When the 
 Queen’s quick eye caught sight of me she paused 
 and said, “The Minister of War will take you in,” 
 
THE LITTLE PRINCESS THVRA, 
 
 335 
 
 and he crossed and, giving me his arm, we followed 
 immediately behind the Minister of State who was 
 next them. As the other folding doors were opened 
 we looked into a continuous succession of splendid 
 rooms all filled with a splendid company. The 
 whole Danish nobility had come up to the Capital 
 to honor and welcome the Bride, and many Swed- 
 ish nobles had accompanied her. Only the broad 
 line of crimson carpeted pathway was left open. 
 The Queen is very graceful. Almost at a dancing 
 gait she moved swiftly, bowing right and left, until 
 the Throne-room was reached where we were 
 placed in the order we had entered. This put me 
 very near the Royal family, who were the only ones 
 seated, and gave me the privilege of standing on 
 the raised dais so that I overlooked the whole 
 room. 
 
 No unmarried ladies are privileged to stand near 
 the Queen. These were ranged facing the Throne 
 across the room, with a proper sprinkling of married 
 ladies among them to preserve the theory of chap- 
 erones. 
 
 We think ours is the Democratic country where 
 
336 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 there is no privileged class, hut I found here in this 
 proud court of the oldest royal House of Europe 
 
 — except the Austrian Hapsburgs — a singular 
 privilege enjoyed as a right by all persons of 
 decent appearance and good conduct. 
 
 Facing the Throne was a long gallery with a 
 frieze in white marble sculptured by Thorwaldsen 
 
 — Jupiter and his court. Jupiter and Juno and the 
 peacock face the throne and then to right and left 
 of them come all the rest. It is a magnificent work 
 and one of the shows — no longer, for it was all 
 burned some years ago. Through this gallery 
 passed, very slowly, all the evening an endless 
 stream of people in walking dress, bonnets or caps, 
 and men and women “ of all sorts and conditions ” 
 such as one meets in any crowded street. 
 
 I was told this was an old right of Danish citi- 
 zens, who tenaciously used it, and in this way took 
 part in, and had their share of, the State Balls. 
 
 Five minutes was the time allowed for the linger- 
 ing walk along this gallery ; for that opposite, the 
 time was extended to fifteen minutes ; because it 
 gave no view of the 'throne. 
 
THE LITTLE PRINCESS THYRA. 
 
 337 
 
 A third gallery across the end was for the musi- 
 cians. 
 
 There must be one word for the Bride. She is 
 said to be the tallest royal woman in Europe, and 
 then, at seventeen, was already almost six feet ; 
 slim and girlish though, and in her dancing dress of 
 silver gauze over white satin not looking too tall. 
 Her black eyes and hair and general effect kept 
 the impress of her French blood, for she was de- 
 scended from Bernadotte, the Marshal Bonaparte 
 put on the Swedish throne. You do not get away 
 from the traces of Bonaparte anywhere in Europe. 
 
 We must keep to the Ball and the girl-princess. 
 I need, and try to profit by, an unconscious 
 criticism given me by a very dear small boy who 
 comes to me “for a story please.” '•‘‘Just a com- 
 mon story” he said to me lately. “Just about one 
 pony or one dog, not any other pony or dog — and 
 not any other story with it. Just a common one.” 
 
 The rooms were lit altogether by wax lights in 
 Venetian glass chandeliers. The boldches, or glass 
 cups around the candles, were as large as break- 
 fast plates, but the thick wax candles heated each 
 
338 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 Other, and then followed melting and spilling over, 
 to the spoiling of many a coat and gown. I noticed 
 a pool of this slippery stuff near the centre of the 
 room almost facing the throne and admired the 
 skill of the dancers in avoiding it when a cry and 
 a sudden hush of the music, told that some one 
 was down. 
 
 It was the little princess. 
 
 The Princess lost her shoe, 
 
 Her Highness hopped, 
 
 The fiddles stopped, 
 
 They knew not what to do.. 
 
 In an instant her father had lifted the frightened 
 girl. Her partner, a middle-aged baldish diplo- 
 mat, stunned by the heavy fall, was supported out 
 of the room. The little girl sat by her father sob- 
 bing with vexation as well as the shock, while the 
 King with his arm about her soothed her, and kept 
 the others from exciting her by questions. Sud- 
 denly, and evidently in explanation, the princess 
 in the most natural and girlish way twisted her 
 supple young foot up to the King’s knee point- 
 
THE LITTLE PRINCESS THYRA. 
 
 339 
 
 ing to the offending high heel to which she waS 
 not accustomed and on which she could not regain 
 her balance when she slipped. 
 
 She was soon dancing again however, and took 
 part in the beautiful supper which followed, where 
 the servants at the Royal table were differently 
 dressed from all the others ; a tight fitting “ sur- 
 coat ” of cherry satin so thickly embroidered with 
 silver that it seemed like a coat of silver mail, and 
 knee breeches of white satin with the usual silk 
 stockings and buckled shoes. On their heads was 
 a tall cap of silver filagree work shaped like a mitre, 
 the two parts of which served to enclose a high and 
 wide bunch of field flowers and wild berries. You 
 can’t think how odd these looked on some of their 
 faces — old serious faces with gray moustaches. 
 
 When the King intends to be polite he sends 
 some dish from his own table by one of these grim 
 flower-crowned old servitors. One came to me 
 with a message from the King asking that I would 
 keep the miniature flags that were stuck in the 
 jelly; a Swedish and a Danish flag with silver 
 crowns surmounting them, and on long silver pins. 
 
34 ° 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 I put the Swedish flag in my hand bouquet, but 
 the Danish I pinned among the violets in my cor- 
 sage bouquet. This was thought very nice by my 
 neighbor, the Minister of War. 
 
 “ She brings agreat dowry, the Swedish Princess,” 
 he said; “and money is a great thing; but there 
 is no reigning family with such unbroken descent 
 as ours of Denmark except that of Austria, and our 
 marriages are into the greatest powers.” 
 
 It is a “ well-connected family ” truly. One 
 daughter is married to the Prince of Wales, another 
 is Empress of Russia, and the little Thyra has mar- 
 ried the wealthy son of the blind King of Hanover 
 while the boy in knickerbockers has just married the 
 great-granddaughter of Louis Philippe and noble 
 Queen Marie Amelie. A bride with character and 
 talent as well as fortune and family. And the eldest 
 son has long been King of Greece. And all agree 
 that exceptional family affection unite all these. 
 
 When the King rises supper ends and all must 
 rise. Their table was across the head of the room 
 and only the Royal party sat at it, facing the room 
 where two long tables, one on either side, held the 
 
THE LITTLE PRINCESS THYRA. 
 
 341 
 
 State officers and Diplomatic corps — the same 
 party who had been assembled in the private draw- 
 ing-room and accompanied the royalties into the 
 Throne-room. Other supper rooms held the other 
 guests, and there they had their own time and did 
 not have to rise and return with the King to the 
 ball-room for the last dances. 
 
 As we stood in double lines for their passing 
 out first (we falling .in as for a Virginia reel, each 
 couple to its appointed place) the smiling bows 
 were given again to right and left, and the Queen 
 again paused by me holding out her hand and giv- 
 ing with it a Danish word, “ Welbekomin^'' which was 
 interpreted to me as meaning “ may it agree with 
 you,'' and is the national form of making a guest 
 welcome to what they have shared at their table. 
 A “ folk-word ” and old custom. Was it from this 
 custom and expression Shakespeare got his, “ may 
 good digestion wait on appetite ” ? 
 
 “You ask too many questions,” my partner said. 
 “ We do many things simply because we have al- 
 ways done them. I cannot explain the flowers 
 on the old servants’ heads, but only the old servi- 
 
342 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 tors of the King wear them. And the Queen was 
 very gracious to make so exceptional a greeting of 
 hospitality to you. It is one of our intimate and 
 friendly customs to give the hand and say ‘ Welbe- 
 ko7nin' ” 
 
 The last dances ended with a “ galop ” that was 
 equal to racing speed ; the music had ceased and 
 there was only the rapid and increasingly more 
 rapid roll of drums beating to quarters ; “ the ge/i- 
 erale.” The pace was too great for many — dancer 
 after dancer fell off until the floor was left to the 
 Grand Equerry, a handsome little Spanish-looking 
 young man, and his partner who was French and 
 very dark. They moved like the wind, so swift, so 
 steady and silent, when, stopping short in full ca- 
 reer in front of the Throne, they made to each other 
 a deep bow and courtesy, then to the Royal party 
 a formal “ jerere/ice” as the courtesy and bow of 
 ceremony is called. 
 
 Then the Royal party rose and bowed to the 
 company, and wuth that the Ball of Welcome was 
 ended. 
 
 Ended after seven hours ! The day was break- 
 
THE LITTLE PRINCESS THYRA. 
 
 343 
 
 ing rosy and clear as we drove over the drawbridge 
 of the moat that surrounds the venerable palace. 
 The sea breeze was refreshing though we were not 
 conscious yet how tired we were and the sun shone 
 full on us before we were comfortably in bed, as 
 old Pepys says, “mightily tired, but mightily 
 pleased.” 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 A MORNING VISIT TO THE QUEEN OF DENMARK. 
 
 UR first day in Copenhagen had been spent 
 
 with our friends at their lovely countr}- seat 
 on the Baltic ; they bringing us back to town, to 
 inspect our Paris toilettes and apportion them to 
 the occasions for which we had invitations. There 
 is so much etiquette and form in court-matters 
 that this was a necessary precaution. 
 
 \^'e had separated, and were making ready for 
 a resting night, when a note came from our minis- 
 ter’s wife — we had called in the morning — enclos- 
 ing one to her from the Grande Maitresse — the chief 
 lady-in-waiting on the Queen, to say her Majesty 
 was coming into town the next morning and would 
 be pleased to see the American ladies, informally, 
 at noon, at the Winter Palace. Madame de B. 
 added : 
 
 344 
 
LOUISA, QUEEN OF DENMARK. 
 
VISIT TO THE QUEEN OF DENMARK. 345 
 
 “The Queen will receive these ladies in their 
 walking dress (toilette de promenade')." 
 
 Mrs. Y in her note said, “ But you must wear 
 
 white bonnet and gloves.” 
 
 Nobody has white gloves in modern days, and 
 for me a white bonnet was impossible, for it would 
 have spoiled the effect of my white hair. What to 
 do ? My Danish friend, in an early morning inter- 
 view, assured me the Queen was too intelligent 
 not to accept an explanation through Madame de 
 
 B and liked pretty things too well not to prefer 
 
 seeing our Felix hats to any solid Copenhagen 
 millinery. But when we met before noon at the 
 
 Winter Palace Mrs. Y was uncomfortable about 
 
 us. 
 
 Madame de B listened to my explanation, 
 
 smiled approvingly on my black lace and jet, and 
 the straw-colored toilette of my daughter, and went 
 into the adjoining room returning with the Queen’s 
 invitation that we two should come to her in the 
 library. 
 
 We had been properly coached — one does not 
 make “ informal morning calls ” on Queens often 
 
346 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF .MY TIME. 
 
 enough to feel quite sure of the etiquette. “You 
 will find the Queen standing. She may or may not 
 ask you to be seated. If she does she will end 
 the visit by rising in ten minutes or so.” 
 
 The Queen did ask us to be seated — ver/ near 
 her too, for, alas, she is somewhat deaf (as is the 
 beautiful Princess of Wales). And when she rose 
 and said she would see us again at the Ball it was 
 not ten minutes, but a good half-hour we had been 
 with her. The explanation had directed her at- 
 tention to our hats, which she approved to the e.x- 
 
 tent of directing Madame de B to ask who cur 
 
 Paris faurnisseuys were. So that nice point was 
 safely passed. 
 
 For the rest one lady is the same as another. 
 With the advantage, that people of fi.xed accus- 
 tomed position can be and usually are of quiet, 
 simple manner, because there can be no question 
 of their social value and they do not need to as- 
 sert themselves in any way. Least of all in the 
 common way of expensive dress. 
 
 The Queen wore a quiet black silk, short and 
 without “ trimming.” Pier figure as well as her 
 
VISIT TO THE QUEEN OF DENMARK. 347 
 
 face was still very youthful, and it is her beauty 
 which has come to her daughters. Direct, gentle 
 manners, and a quick easy way of talking made 
 the half-hour short. On the large library table 
 by which we sat was a bust of the Prince of Wales 
 to which she called our attention, as a present just 
 received from “my son.” All the royal family, 
 every one in society almost, and the people gen- 
 erally, speak English. English is now the diplo- 
 matic language as it it fast becoming also the 
 necessary business language. Until in Cromwell's 
 time the diplomatic intercourse of nations was in 
 Latin — you remember Milton was Cromwell’s 
 secretary. Charles ii. introduced the French lan- 
 guage, which is now displaced almost completely 
 by English. 
 
 After the Ball of Welcome, a breakfast was given 
 by the Minister of State, Count Fries. Friesland, 
 Jutland, and another county, of which I forget the 
 name, were his property; and in these three coun- 
 ties were some thirty towns and villages, also his. 
 Plere again was the same simplicity of attentive 
 good manners, and dress. Although all Royalty 
 
348 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME, 
 
 and all the highest Danish nobility were present, 
 the Countess Fries and a daughter, the Countess 
 Agnes, were dressed well but in proper daytime 
 dress and without jewels. Diamonds by daylight, 
 and evening dresses before night, unless for great 
 State ceremonial, are not worn by women who are 
 too used to them to wear them out of place. At 
 the Ball I had noticed all wore their hair in what 
 was evidently their habitual way. Just then it was 
 a fashion to put all the hair in one thick plait 
 which drooped from the back of the head low on the 
 neck and was thence carried to the top of the head 
 in a straight line ; a hot and tickling way in a 
 summer night ball-room. One lady at the Ball had 
 her hair done in this way. She was very nice- 
 looking every way, with her pale blue dress and 
 collar of diamonds. The King, whom I had not 
 yet met, took this lady for me. Standing near the 
 throne, I heard him say to the Minister of War, 
 “ Faites moi riionneur de me presenter a J/adame Fre- 
 mont,” moving as he spoke toward this lady. He 
 
 told General de R “ I made the mistake because 
 
 the American ladies follow the fashions de si pres 
 
VISIT TO THE QUEEN OF DENMARK. 349 
 
 (so very quickly) that I thought that must be the 
 American lady with her hair dressed in the last 
 mode.” She was English, however, and I think it 
 was a point in our country’s favor that though 
 American I wore mine, as did the Danish ladies, 
 in my usual way. 
 
 But the white bonnet was obligatory for the 
 Bridal Breakfast. Every woman, old or young, 
 had on an uncompromising white hat. With all 
 my Paris finery mine was a case of “ nothing to 
 wear.” A look round the Copenhagen places sat- 
 isfied me that their substantial respectable bonnets 
 would crush my hair and spoil the effect of my 
 dress. So I made my own bonnet. Sitting before 
 the glass, I built it on my head with many hair- 
 pins. A coronet wreath of pale violets placed be- 
 comingly on the hair made the “foundation.” 
 Some Mechlin lace gathered into a large loose 
 rosette fell softly over the upper part of the flow- 
 ers, in front and over the hair behind. More vio- 
 lets and lace form a central knot for a long barbe 
 of the same lace which made a loose fluffy tie 
 under the chin — it was white, but not heavy, and 
 
35 ° 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 SO artistic and becoming that several ladies said to 
 me, “ Only Paris could produce such bonnets.” 
 
 At this beautiful breakfast there were long suites 
 of both drawing-rooms and breakfast-rooms open ; 
 all newly decorated for this occasion. In the rocm 
 where the royal party had breakfast we were but 
 twenty-four at table, myself the only unofficial per- 
 son. Except the King and the Prince-bridegroom 
 and Count Fries, all were ladies. The Countess 
 Fries several times left her seat, made the tour of 
 the table speaking a little with different guests, 
 saying to me in English a nice hospitable hope 
 that I was finding myself pleased and altogether 
 carrying out the impression of good will as well as 
 good manners which is common to all classes in 
 Denmark. 
 
 We spent the day at a country-seat about an 
 hour out of town where we found in perfection this 
 charming combination of simplicity and luxury. 
 The house was old and built around three sides 
 of a courtyard as large as a public square. A de- 
 lightfully irregular house of uneven growth ; some 
 rooms moderately large and opening together, 
 
VISIT TO THE QUEEN OF DENMARK. 351 
 
 while Others were really great halls, sorre opening 
 out by stone balconies and steps to the rich vel- 
 vety green of old lawns running down to the sandy 
 beach of the blue Baltic. Trees of age and beauty 
 that it made one glad to see were everywhere 
 about this domain, while back of it lay a famous 
 beech-wood and deer park. This we visited in a 
 little basket wagon, driving among the tame deer. 
 The beeches were of immense size and very old. 
 Their strange trunks were even more weird than 
 any Dore has drawn and their whitish bark made 
 them phantom-like in the green dusk of the forest. 
 This wood was only a part of the royal deer-forest. 
 
 Mr. S. had recently bought it from the crown, 
 
 giving eighty thousand pounds sterling for this ad- 
 dition to his old estate which had a long, long 
 frontage on the Baltic. For a fishing village on 
 his estate he had built a fine breakwater. Our 
 Danish friends were intimate here and told us of 
 the good providence the whole family were to 
 their tenants and people. At dinner the fish was 
 from their own waters, the venison and birds from 
 their own forests, the beautiful peaches and grapes 
 
352 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 from their own glass-houses, and the flowers were 
 from their fields as well as those cultivated. 
 To us accustomed only to the unbroken green of 
 our wheat fields (corn as it is called in England 
 and Europe), the gay beauty of north European 
 corn-flowers in a wheatfield is something fascina- 
 ting. I had said something of this pleasure to 
 the eye as we had travelled northward. In one 
 room where a pale blue glazed chintz covered the 
 walls as well as the furniture, and the light was 
 softened by abundant white muslin curtains, a 
 large window was filled by a tall basket-stand with 
 its tiers of trays filled entirely by blue corn flowers, 
 relieved by borders of the loveliest white roses ; 
 and in the next room, where everything was pale 
 pink, the wild sweetbrier was the only flower. 
 Great vases of fine china and majolica had the 
 poppy and ripe wheat with the blue and yellow 
 corn flowers everywhere. My friends told me the 
 sisters, three girls of remarkable beauty, had them- 
 selves arranged the flowers to please me. Their 
 father showed me in the library a large beautiful 
 painting of the place where Jorgen was shipwrecked 
 
VISIT TO THE QUEEN OF DENMARK. 353 
 
 and his sad young life ended in the sands of Jut- 
 land. Hans Andersen is responsible for making 
 us all sorry for the poor Spanish boy ; it was such 
 a very desolate stretch of dull wave-ribbed sand 
 with the low wash of the cold ocean against it that 
 one felt the tragedy of the lost boy. It was good 
 to escape back to the lovely flowers and lovelier 
 girls. 
 
 We had another beautiful day at the castle at 
 Elsinore, where Hamlet saw his father’s ghost on 
 the ramparts; and a visit to fortified islands which 
 defend the harbor. Going out to them in a steam- 
 launch and doing credit to our country by not be- 
 ing sickened by the rough short waves which made 
 some of the dignified officials blue and gray in the 
 face and miserable. Nelson was always seasick. 
 What a brave man he was to become such a naval 
 hero in spite of his quailing stomach. We had the 
 old story of his bombardment of Copenhagen told 
 over here, on the spot, and Campbell’s poem, “ The 
 Battle of the Baltic,” took new beauty and meaning 
 to me. My old French friend, the Count de la 
 Garde, had been present and had part in the de* 
 
354 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 fence of the city that day, though only a lad of 
 sixteen. 
 
 To be in Copenhagen and not speak of Thor- 
 waldsen is almost to omit Hamlet, but I must. 
 
 Genius is honored in Denmark. It has its true 
 place as a rare and divine gift, and learning is 
 fostered and brings honors. Hans Andersen was, 
 with all his petty vanities and childish self-impor- 
 tance, valued for his talent and was not only a 
 popular favorite but a welcomed frequent guest of 
 royalty. The university there is so stately and 
 beautiful and has attached such wealth of libraries, 
 museums, etc. that it was a pleasure to learn that 
 the great income which enabled all this to be done 
 had been gained by the students themselves. 
 Some centuries before, when the plague was dev- 
 astating the- city, panic followed, so that the 
 dead lay unburied. Authority could not prevail 
 with any of the regular people, and the students 
 volunteered ; and they made the check in the 
 spread of the disease and terror it caused. For 
 this they were granted a proportion of all burial 
 fees in perpetuity, and that supply never fails. 
 
VISIT TO THE QUEEM OF DENMARK. 355 
 
 Denmark was the last European country to 
 embrace Christianity, and in its fixed uneventful 
 national life old usages and traditions have lingered, 
 so that among the peasantry and farming folk their 
 silver jewelry and pottery, and many small customs 
 retain a mythological character. It was an alto- 
 gether quaint, characteristic, special visit we had 
 there; delightfully in contrast to the modern life 
 even of the “ Old World ” cities, and fascinating 
 to us as Americans where the unwritten law is to 
 destroy forests and tear down the few edifices hav- 
 ing histories and marks of time. 
 
 IIV know what happens if you ask for some- 
 thing to eat on an excursion to any of our out-of- 
 the-way little places. But driving far one day we 
 rested before returning where a very small fishing 
 village lay between a forest and the Baltic ; very 
 small weather-beaten huts of cottages, boats, fish- 
 ing nets, etc. — all plain and poor. We stopped at 
 the largest house — two rooms with sanded floors 
 and a few wooden benches and tables in one, and 
 cooking arrangements in the other, showed it to 
 be the “ Public.” 
 
356 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 Here they knew only Danish. All was clean, 
 but a “ fish-like ” atmosphere pervaded everything. 
 We were hungry, and tried by pantomime to get 
 something, but understood from their deprecating 
 gestures and the blushes of a pink and white young 
 girl who shook her yellow head as she looked us 
 over admiringly that they had nothing good enough. 
 P'.’s fourteen-year-old appetite was not to be 
 soothed by such an idea ; he pantomimed vigorously, 
 advancing into the kitchen and triumphantly seized 
 an egg, broke it into a plate and by gestures indi- 
 cated the beating of eggs, then pointing to the fire 
 was understood, and mother and daughter, laugh- 
 ing, followed his lead as he searched the shelves 
 and a closet and secured some raspberr}- jam ; he 
 found in the bit of garden some parsley, and soon 
 we had a really good omelette, with clean water to 
 drink, and hard rye bread. The good humor, the 
 good, excellent cooking, the modest charge — 
 about twenty cents — all were exceptional in our 
 much-travelled experience, and the girl’s shrill 
 laugh of delight at the little present of money we 
 made her urns equally exceptional. 
 
VISIT TO THE QUEEN OF DENMARK. 357 
 
 The upper classes are very like the English 
 country gentry in wholesome truthful ways of liv- 
 ing, without pretense or striving, but having an 
 open life ; first for home and family, and after, if 
 it is quite prudent and convenient, to broaden it. 
 But with these, as with the plainer people, there 
 seemed to be an atmosphere of not only content, 
 but light-heartedness very foreign to the English 
 and even to our American people ; and very re- 
 freshing to be in contact with. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 A MIDSUMMER NIGHT WITH SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 OU shall hear no English or French spoken, 
 
 -Ih you ^vill not see a railway or a telegraph- 
 post, and unless you order your mail to follow, you 
 can have an unbroken atmosphere of repose from 
 all usual ideas.” 
 
 That was a tempting idea! .And were we 
 not willing and glad to be governed for our own 
 good and make no rash scrutiny into the details 
 of this promised rest but take it gratefully as it 
 came. That is, we elders. Younger .America went 
 deep into the planning and enjoyed preparing the 
 surprises and pleasures for the docile parents. 
 We had asked for the daughter of our Danish 
 friends to accompany us back to Paris where her 
 father was to be later ; we making a “ long way 
 round ’ by Dresden, Prague, Munich, the Aus- 
 
 358 
 
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT WITH SHAKESPEARE. 359 
 
 trian-Tyrol and Vienna, and from there the 
 straight line to Paris. A. de R. had made this plan 
 from her experience of travel with her father; 
 she further secured the “ foreign ” and resting 
 atmosphere by arranging that our stopping-places 
 should be exclusively at hotels apart from the line 
 of travel ; no Eisenban with the rush of railways 
 in their service, and tourist ideas of food, but 
 leisurely characteristic old-world hotels. 
 
 Old Liibeck near Hamburg whose “ flourishing 
 commerce was destroyed by the discovery of 
 America ” began the programme of “ the past.” 
 Dresden was painfully modern in all but the pict- 
 ures ; but when we saw Prague we felt we touched 
 the Middle Ages. Everything there tells of the 
 power of the privileged few and the extraordinary 
 submission of the people. To the favored class 
 belonged palaces covering squares ; that of the 
 King, though rarely lived in, covers a hill-face. 
 Adjoining some of the finest is that monument 
 of ignorant bigotry, the “Jews’ Quarter.” There 
 the houses were immensely tall, as ground was 
 denied them, and the streets so narrow that as we 
 
360 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 drove through in an open carriage our outstretched 
 arms could almost have touched either side, and 
 the sunny day seemed to have darkened,- so shut in 
 were they from space and light. 
 
 The Synagogue, built partly under ground '•‘‘for 
 better defence” with its steep roof so near the 
 ground that it was like a great ice-house (and it 
 was almost as chill and damp), was a speaking 
 comment on its day. This is one of the oldest 
 Hebrew places of worship in Europe and retains 
 in its inner structure and the tombstones closing 
 m around it the Oriental character. 
 
 Emerging into free light we came to a Bishop’s 
 palace w'here there was an oriel window of rich 
 old stained-glass of such size and beauty that the 
 carriage was stopped and Anna’s sketching-traps 
 taken out and Frank adjusted the folding-stool, 
 little easel-table and color-box and remained with 
 her while we drove on to the bridge of St. John of 
 Nippermunk. We have the “ biggest rivers ” but 
 in the Old World they have the “ biggest bridges ; ” 
 not in height and for railway traffic, but in adorn- 
 ment, and that growth of legend and story which 
 
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT WITH SHAKESPEARE. 361 
 
 time alone gives, and running water favors. A 
 legend seems to need a substantial basis when it 
 is on land, but there is something that invites 
 imagination and vague forms in the flowing stream 
 and its mists. It is not much of a river as Ameri- 
 can rivers go, but this special bridge alone is an 
 epitome of history, of art and of superstition, and 
 now of the dead-and-gone past when even thought 
 was not free. 
 
 St. John had received the confession of the 
 Queen — a Queen of “ once upon a time ” — whose 
 royal husband wished to know what she had told 
 her confessor. This was in early Christian days. 
 The priest would not of course tell. Nor would 
 the King recognize any power that could oppose 
 him, of the Church or of the world. And as 
 Father John, for he was only a simple priest then, 
 refused, though imprisoned and tortured, he was 
 put to death and his body thrown into the river 
 (in the old unsanitary manner). Behold the mir- 
 acle ! Not only did the dead man not sink but, 
 as he floated in an upright position, there settled 
 about his head five points of light forming a halo. 
 
362 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 By this the wicked King knew he was fighting 
 the powers of the unseen world and that John had 
 become a Saint because he was a martyr to duty. 
 And as such he is held to this day. There are 
 twelve life-size groups in marble on this beautiful 
 bridge, the places of honor in the centre being 
 reserved on one side for the Holy Mother with 
 the dead Christ on her knees — tlie favorite ever- 
 recurring group in South Europe of Mother and 
 Son — and, opposite, St. John with his halo of 
 stars. Each of these stood on altar-like rising 
 steps and laad, whenever we passed them, kneel- 
 ing people before them. They may or may not 
 have believed that whoever said certain prayers to 
 St. John could not be drowned, but we, as well as 
 those kneeling there, were heartily thankful for 
 the reminder of duty steadfastly adhered to, even 
 unto death ; and there is no creed to the Mother- 
 heart that aches over its dead. 
 
 From the bridge rises steeply the hill on which 
 the old palace stands, or rather which it covers, 
 with outer side walls like stony precipices. From 
 above, on one occasion when die council disagreed 
 
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT WITH SHAKESPEARE, 363 
 
 with the King, he called in his guard and had the 
 disagreement ended by dropping the Councillors out 
 of the windows. The windows are shown to you 
 and, as your eye measures the distance of that drop, 
 you understand that like Abner Dean of Angel’s 
 the subsequent proceedings interested them no 
 more. 
 
 But if the one will was powerful for evil it could 
 also act quickly for good. Opposite, the Raths- 
 chin a high solid wall of masonry starts from the 
 river and climbs up and over the hill — a strange 
 wall to see in a city and with a strange name — 
 the “ Hunger-Wall.” In a time of famine and 
 when there was nothing for the people to do, the 
 King of that day (“ once upon a time ” ) had this 
 wall built and the people working on it were paid 
 well, and so, earning their food, were in better state 
 every way than if food had been doled out to 
 them ; which was not bad political economy. 
 
 The southern and oriental love of beauty, of color 
 and graceful form, makes Prague charming. In 
 place of mere cobble stones the chief streets are 
 laid in a rough mosaic by placing the stones in large 
 
364 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 pattern and outlining the grays and tans with red 
 stones. And the raised sidewalks are of a coarse 
 gravel done in the same way but of more elaborate 
 pattern and more varied coloring. The white uni- 
 forms of Austrian officers and many local and 
 characteristic costumes made agreeable figures in 
 this rococo sort of setting. We had found this 
 love of beauty marking everything in our hotel. 
 The Austrian Parliament meets in Prague and this 
 hotel was much in favor with the nobles attending 
 it, so we found as Anna had promised coicleur 
 locale in everjThing. The house was delightfully 
 old and the rooms were dignified by their size and 
 the exquisite shining inlaid floors and rich dark 
 wood-work of doors and panelled walls and ceil- 
 ings — while, as it is the capital of Bohemia, we 
 had enough genuine Bohemian glass in chan- 
 deliers and mirror frames and table service to 
 gladden even the insatiate eye of one who appre- 
 ciated the effects of light and color in the trans- 
 parent glass. And in all details the harmony was 
 complete. Our bedrooms, opening en suite from 
 the spacious drawing-room with its wood fire re- 
 
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT WITH SHAKESPEARE. 365 
 
 fleeted in the polished woods and glimmering 
 glass, were as beautiful as rich fittings and good 
 taste could make them. Frescoed ceilings had 
 their chief colors repeated in rich rugs and the 
 satin furniture and bedspreads ; while the table, 
 which was served in the drawing-room, was for all 
 its appointments of flowers, fine silver and china 
 and damask, with the silver branched candlesticks 
 having shaded wax lights, like a lovely dinner party. 
 Careful and delicate cookery is the rule even in 
 wayside inns in Austria, so that here we had it in 
 perfection. 
 
 We did not travel by night. Our programme 
 was arranged for an easy day between early coffee 
 and a late dinner. There is always the long halt 
 and abundant time for the mid-day breakfast at the 
 regular stopping-places where well-set tables and 
 good food make this truly a “ refreshment.” 
 
 Getting to Prague for dinner we had intended giv- 
 ing it one day, then going to Munich for one day, 
 and from there into the mountains making Salzburg 
 our headquarters for excursions. There was not 
 time for everything, so the mountains were made 
 
366 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 the chief object as the General had to be in Paris 
 by a fixed time, leaving us to go to Vienna and 
 make the travel by Frankfort more at our leisure, 
 and join him at Paris. 
 
 But one day was not enough of the beautiful 
 city. By making a very early start and going 
 straight to Salzburg, only stopping to change 
 trains and get dinner in Munich, we could give 
 two days to Prague. It was against the theories 
 of our chief traveller not to make camp while it 
 was still light — “ all travelling accidents happen 
 in the dark ” — but when I saw the placards, an- 
 nouncing Gounod’s “Romeo and Juliet” for the 
 next night, then no locomotive could have hauled 
 us from that spot. Munich was a modernized sort 
 of a place anyhow — we had seen sculptures and 
 pictures enough in Copenhagen and Dresden to 
 confuse us, and now it was the turn for music, and 
 this open-air page of history, unspoiled by “ mod- 
 ern improvements.” 
 
 So we again had a long open-air day and dined 
 with good appetite in the beautiful drawing-room 
 and then drove by the river road out of town to the 
 
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT WITH SHAKESPEARE. 367 
 
 suburb where was the summer theatre. A great 
 building where the stage was under cover but 
 the house was open to the sky, and the moon and 
 stars looked down upon Juliet as she leaned 
 from her balcony. The house was in dim light 
 and the footlights well masked. The Juliet was 
 a lovely, tall girl with the midnight dusk of hair 
 and eyes of her country — her long white satin 
 gown was not a Worth costume but a clinging 
 soft-falling, gentle-looking gown such as the true 
 Juliet might have worn. And Romeo was young 
 and looked and moved the daring lover. Fancy 
 Gounod’s music set to such realities of youth and 
 beauty and possible passion, with the summer 
 moon shining on the lovers — we the audience 
 only a dusky bank of cloud to them. 
 
 Then the tumult of the street fight was no sham 
 struggle with absurdly wrong postures and sword 
 exercises. 
 
 But from narrow streets by old garden walls and 
 massive palaces hurried forth armed men — light, 
 graceful swordsmen, and the two bodies of retain- 
 ers met in conflict that was a delight to an audi- 
 
368 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 ence to whom the sword is as familiar a weapon 
 as the gun is with us. 
 
 To make a play a success in New York it is 
 almost enough to insert some sort of drill exer- 
 cise ; you will see breathless attention follow every 
 move and no good point fails to bring out compre- 
 hending applause. In Prague the sword was as 
 well understood. I had had some (not enough) 
 twinges of conscience at upsetting Mr. Fremont’s 
 plans of early camps, and hurrying into the Tyrol, 
 but he too was charmed by the music and the 
 truthful, fit setting of the immortal tale of youth — 
 and when this perfect fencing scene began and 
 progressed to a grand assaut tTarntes, then I knew 
 would for no reason have missed so congenial an 
 exhibition. From all over the house came cries of 
 approval and delight — none more enthusiastic than 
 from Mr. Fremont and my son. 
 
 It was an extraordinary completeness of enjoy- 
 ment throughout. The drive back by the river 
 with the moonlight beautifying all things was only 
 one more idealized pleasure. 
 
 “ We must be at the train and in place at six ! ” 
 
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT WITH SHAKESPEARE. 369 
 
 and it was then past twelve. We hurried to our 
 satin quilts but the envious morn came all too 
 soon and we were a silent and sleepy party over 
 the five o’clock coffee ; but it was a delight to have 
 had that night, for then and for always. 
 
 This was our one exception to the wholesome 
 plan of only daylight travel, but to give more time 
 to the Tyrol we were willing, for once, to go on into 
 the night. Those puzzling “ Bradshaws ” I never 
 attempted to understand but the younger ones be- 
 lieved in them. 
 
 It is a point of honor I think with railway offici- 
 als not to know about the next place and you are 
 thrown on the printed information ; so the girls 
 made out that by four o’clock we would be at 
 Munich with a two, or four-hour rest there, and 
 then two hours to Salzburg. A telegram to the 
 hotel there insured our finding supper and all 
 things ready including the carriage and oberkcU- 
 ner ” waiting to meet us at the station. As we 
 were to make the two, or four-hour stop in Munich 
 we decided to dine there at a usual hour and made 
 only a very light breakfast. 
 
370 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 That “ Bradshaw ” was a deceiver. It was nearly 
 eight when Munich was reached. The bright hand- 
 some railway station was most welcome and the sight 
 and odor of food was grateful to an all-day appetite. 
 “ We will let all these people get off and then have 
 our dinner in quiet,” said Anna. 
 
 We ordered it with care, including “ by request ” 
 roasted pheasant and salad, and the menkind 
 stepped out “ to look around,” while we gave way 
 to the comfort of stretching our cramped limbs on 
 sofas and comparing our rest and the leisurely re- 
 freshing dinner we were to have with the hurry of 
 the passengers who were making off to a starting 
 train. 
 
 Just then Anna caught some words that made 
 her go swiftly to the Bureau d' information, and 
 our rest was over. That treacherous “ Bradshaw ” 
 had misled us again. There was not four, not two, 
 not any hour at all of waiting. The train that was 
 starting was ours. Myself, the two girls and our 
 maid were there — but the General and Frank.? 
 In came an authoritative bustling official : “ Salz~ 
 bourg, Madame i D^pbchez vous done." One girl 
 
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT WITH SHAKESPEARE. 37 1 
 
 had gone outside on a scout for the missing men, 
 when the other spied their laughing faces at a 
 side window where they were evidently amused 
 by our flurry. They shared the discomposure 
 when they understood the rush and *• no dinner ? 
 — not even that pheasant” — but we just made 
 our train and that was something. In fact it was 
 all the comfort we had. The night was chill any- 
 way and as our train slowly climbed from the plain 
 to the mountain elevation it grew positively cold. 
 We had only light wraps and our empty stomachs 
 had neither external nor internal warmth. And 
 those foreign railway carriages will not let you 
 go to sleep and forget yourself. “ Qiii dort dine," 
 says the French proverb, but even that form of 
 dining was unattainable. 
 
 The grade was sharp and our engine took it in a 
 leisurely way and again Bradshaw was wrong for it 
 was past midnight when we came to Salzburg. I 
 think it speaks well for us all that though both 
 cold and hungry we were not cross. The familiar 
 phrases about “ making camp before dark ” and “ ac- 
 cidents in travel come with the dark” were cot 
 
372 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 added to our depression, for we really did feel de- 
 pressed. Eighteen hours travel on the morning cof- 
 fee and some bread and fruit was not stimulating. 
 
 However all was obliterated by the comfort and 
 beauty of our rooms with the cheerful wood fire 
 and supper. Even to “ roast pheasant.” It was 
 the season for the (the wild-hen) which is 
 
 to them what our prairie chicken is to us. Soothed 
 aird renewed we went off to sleep as comforting as 
 our food, and woke to begin some weeks of unal- 
 loyed enjoyment in the enchanting Austrian-Tyrol. 
 

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EMPRESS OF AUSTRIA. 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 SALZBURG. 
 
 "Mein lieber land Tyrol.' 
 
 W HEN we met next day for the mid-day 
 breakfast we were all refreshed and gay 
 and already feeling the sparkling freshness of the 
 mountains. The girls had their report to make. 
 They had been to the Mozarts-platz, where the 
 statue and fountain in the square and the tablet 
 on the house all tell of Mozart’s home there ; but 
 it was horses, not music, that had led them to that 
 spot, for Anna knew of a reliable livery-man there 
 from whom her father and herself had had their 
 mountain outfit. The em-spamier is a very com- 
 fortable, strong, two-seated open carriage made to 
 open or close at will ; with the driver’s seat so 
 low in front that you see over his head. The 
 wide flat box behind, which corresponds to the 
 373 
 
374 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 driver’s seat, carries all one needs for a week or 
 so. These are usually driven with one horse and 
 that to a pole, giving the effect of an accident and 
 the carriage being taken back by the horse that 
 had not run away. Two horses are not absolutely 
 needed on those well-graded beautifully macad- 
 amized roads, and to spend for what is not needed 
 does not enter the Continental mind. We were 
 better pleased to see horses both sides of the 
 pole, and the girls had chosen good ones that met 
 the requirements of their practised eyes, and also 
 selected the two drivers from the men called out 
 for inspection. 
 
 This important matter settled, we were to begin 
 on the scenery nearest us. 
 
 Anna had given me no hint, for fear I might 
 tell, but I saw suppressed e.xcitement and eager- 
 ness in her anxiety that we should go at an early 
 hour next morning for a drive, and we were all 
 docility. 
 
 The town of Salzburg is so different from any- 
 thing of modern days, even in Europe, that it was 
 a pleasure just to idle about it on foot. All that 
 
SALZBURG. 
 
 375 
 
 was not actual church building was so decorated 
 with religious busts and bas-reliefs that it seemed, 
 as it is, an ecclesiastical headquarters with the 
 impress of past days of power of the Church ; and 
 of the State also. The mountains rise so abruptly 
 from the narrow bed of the rushing river which is 
 parallel to its only level street, that the other 
 buildings cling to the steep hill sides, and the 
 jutting lower spurs are crowned with huge edifices, 
 royal or ecclesiastical. While on the abrupt height 
 across the river, where its mass of shadow fell on 
 our hotel until ten o’clock, was an old fortress, 
 a genuine “ strong-place ” of the Middle Ages, 
 rich in legends and in facts. 
 
 For this first day we were “ not to cross the 
 river;” there was more than enough to keep us 
 interested on our side. The vibration from sweet- 
 toned bells is nev'er out of the air there. The 
 many churches and religious buildings are all 
 the time ringing bells, and the equally many great 
 clocks strike musical hours, giving the quarters, 
 and the high hills send back their echoes. 
 
 We went forth the next morning quite fresh and 
 
376 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 fit to meet the majesty of the mountains, our large 
 comfortable landau wide-open to the mild autumn 
 sun and inspiring air. The mass of rocky height 
 on which is the fortification lies for about four 
 miles along the river. Beyond is a level rich 
 valley, and much other good farming land. The 
 peasant women, used to accepting life with ever)' 
 hardship they found in it, had been accustomed 
 to plod around this long spur on their way to 
 market, driving their donkeys loaded with produce 
 — they walking. You will remember it is the 
 women who do the most of the field work where 
 standing armies are kept ; the men are taken for 
 soldiers. 
 
 When the Empress Maria Theresa visited Salz- 
 burg she noticed this long way round which the 
 women had to add to their already long walk to 
 and from their homes in and beyond the valley. 
 She ordered a tunnel to be cut through, under 
 the fortress and where it would lead by the short- 
 est way from the valley into the centre of the 
 town. This was the thought and care of a beau- 
 tiful woman, a most proud empress, for peasant 
 
SALZBURG. 
 
 377 
 
 women, a woman’s care for other women. Through 
 this tunnel we drove that lovely autumn morning, 
 I pleased with the good done by the empi'ess, Mr. 
 Fremont admiring the beauty of the engineering 
 work and its costly finish of wide raised sidewalks 
 and smoothly lined sides and arched roof, all of 
 us turning to examine the great bas-relief carved 
 over its entrance on which the morning sun shone 
 fair; something allegorical, intended to win favor 
 for her young son ; that son to whom she could 
 leave an empire but could not transmit her brain 
 and will — that son who let his sister Marie An- 
 toinette die unsupported by royal or brotherly 
 effort to save her. Flistory will show you that 
 “ Happy as a Queen,” is a nursery phrase and 
 belongs with the age when “ Once upon a time” 
 is the only date used. 
 
 From the tunnel we came out into the rich open 
 valley of which we saw only the floor, so to speak, 
 for the broad road was bordered by double rows 
 of venerable trees which interlaced overhead 
 making another and longer winding tunnel of 
 thick green leafage ; but between the great boles 
 
378 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 of the trees and beyond their spreading boughs 
 we caught glimpses of a regiment of cavalry at 
 morning exercise on the green plain. That was 
 inspiriting. The bugle calls, the swift manceuvres, 
 the picturesque uniforms, all made beautiful ac- 
 companiments to the morning. 
 
 Then, as we emerged from this, Anna said, 
 “ Now, General, shut your eyes, do, until I speak.” 
 
 She was paling with excitement, and well she 
 might. 
 
 The carriage stopped at the point she remem- 
 bered, where an opening in the high hills gave a 
 view beyond of which words cannot make a pict- 
 ure. Immediately before us lay two lines of mag- 
 nificent dark mountains curving boldly towards 
 each other ; closing the view across them in the 
 distance, rose from this lower framing of deep 
 greens and purpling-blue, something I had never 
 seen before, a huge glacier — a shape of light — so 
 high, so glittering it was, far, far up in the morn- 
 ing sunshine. 
 
 Anna’s voice quivered as she said, “Now, 
 
 General.” 
 
SAI-ZBURG. 
 
 379 
 
 There come some exquisite moments in life. 
 Culminating moments that make complete — full 
 and perfect and forever remembered as the 
 crowning joy — what has been long wished-for, 
 dreamed-of. 
 
 We were silent and quiet there a long time. 
 
 Anna’s intended pleasure in showing the snow 
 mountains of South Europe to Mr. Frdmont had 
 been a perfect success. He was dumb with satis- 
 fied joy. An expression I had never seen in them 
 leaped into his eyes as he lifted them and saw 
 that glory of the snow mountain — they knew each 
 other. 
 
 Afterward, we noticed that when we did turn 
 away the little we had said was in lowered voices, 
 for we felt it would be intruding on the thoughts 
 thronging in upon our “Aw des Montagnes" as 
 Anna named him ; like Sir Bedevere, it was clear 
 he was 
 
 Revolving many memories. 
 
 It was no surprise that an early start was asked for 
 the next day ; and in our warm woollen rig we were 
 off in the little carriages, as good as a short sofa 
 
380 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME, 
 
 on wheels, and that, and many other sunrises, we 
 saw in the lieber La7id of Tyrol. And many a 
 rushing pale-green brook tumbling down its rocks 
 between pines, and other such dearly beloved and 
 remembered mountain sights left me alone in the 
 carriage, for the stream called him as it did Un- 
 dine, and the General would jump out and walk 
 by it, and cross on its rough stones, and w’alk up 
 hills, “to spare the horses ” — and the young ones 
 “ spared the horses ” in their carriage too, and 
 their voices would come back as fresh and sunny 
 and gay as the morning itself. 
 
 And what appetites this gave ! And what 
 wonderful delicate food met us at village inns 
 where the landlady was the convent-trained skilful 
 cook and the landlady’s daughter, pretty and 
 gravely important, directed the ser\’ing-girls under 
 her ; who curtsied so often and so low in present- 
 ing each dish that it made me dizzy to see their 
 heads sink and rise so abruptly. And they would 
 be in such picturesque costume ; the clean wh'.re 
 plaited chemisette with the low black velvet 
 bodice — in this as emblem of office the landlady’^ 
 
SALZBURG. 
 
 38* 
 
 daughter wore, as one puts in a flower a little to 
 the side, a large silver spoon, bowl up, together 
 with the large black velvet bag (d la Marguerite) 
 at her side in which jingled the keys ; this marked 
 authority and future proprietorship. 
 
 We stopped over night at such an inn in the 
 village of Werfen ; just a street of detached, low, 
 stone houses, but with a village square and foun- 
 tain where the women gathered before sundown 
 with their pitchers and gossipped ; costumes, foun- 
 tain, gossips, all was a scene from Faust. High 
 mountains shut in the narrow line of village. 
 On a height above it was an old fortifled castle, 
 now used as a military prison. The others walked 
 up there — a ladder-like climb I was not up to, as 
 I had lamed my knee in Denmark and for want of 
 rest had been getting seriously lamed. But I 
 looked out at the Faust scene and the sunset 
 lights on the mountains, and the landlady and 
 myself had a talk in pantomime all to ourselves. 
 Their German has become a dialect here, and my 
 German was scant anyway ; but when two women 
 want to talk they can manage with eyes and hands 
 
382 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 and oh’s and ah’s, and so we progressed, I assent- 
 ing to all she proposed for dinner, checking off on 
 her fingers unknown dishes, to which I nodded 
 approval until she cried “ enough.” Then she led 
 me to the oak presses which were in my room 
 and, unlocking them with pride, displayed her 
 treasures to me. She had reason for housewifely 
 pride in them. Piled up in quantity was fine 
 linen for bed and table. Napkins tied in dozens 
 with their original ribbons — her marriage portion. 
 
 Alein mudder" had given this and that. She led 
 me to a window looking down upon the crowded 
 gravestones of the church adjoining her inn — 
 “ Mein mudder ” was there ; touching her black 
 head-dress and woollen mourning gown, her hus- 
 band too ; it was bright with growing flowers, 
 dahlias chiefly then, and wreaths on the crosses. 
 
 But she smiled again when she displayed her 
 many eider down puffy quilts of bright-colored silks 
 and satins, and taking her favorite she spread it 
 over my bed, first smiling and putting its clear blue 
 near my white hair to show it would be becoming. 
 Then, inquiringly, would I choose for the others? 
 
SALZBURG. 
 
 383 
 
 So the General had green for the hills, and Frank 
 his gold color, while as I had the blue the girls 
 had to take pink and crimson. It was charming 
 to feel the friendly one-ness of hospitality which 
 was quite apart from the relation of traveller and 
 hostess, and which belonged in with the courtesy 
 of the people everywhere in Austria. Her best 
 silver, each spoon and fork wrapped separately in 
 silver paper, she also took out from this range 
 of oak presses which made one wall of a large 
 room. 
 
 When the others came back they found the 
 wood fire bright in the open part of the huge 
 white porcelain stove, the table with wax lights 
 in twisted-branched silver candlesticks, flowers 
 (dahlias from the graveyard, and geraniums — I 
 saw the daughter cutting these funeral -grown 
 flowers for the feast), and in their rooms more 
 silver candlesticks on lace-trimmed toilet tables, 
 lighting up the pretty satin quilts. 
 
 And such a feast! even the appetite of a 
 boy, increased by mountain air and exercise, 
 gave out. Each thing was not only delightfully 
 
384 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 cooked, but served in the most artistic manner, 
 and as I had said “ yes ” to eveiything, we 
 water-drinkers by habit were confronted with 
 fine old claret, and such golden Tokay that it 
 had to be tasted. 
 
 We were a party of five. Always on the conti- 
 nent you order — not chicken or beef or potatoes, 
 but one or more portions of each. The things 
 Frank was fond of he always ordered in six por- 
 tions ; when the servant would ask for the sixth 
 person as we seated ourselves there was always a 
 little laugh as he held up two fingers and ex- 
 plained he was both “ five ” and “ six.” This time 
 even “ six ” was stalled. The landlady came up 
 to ask if we had been satisfied, and with German 
 words and expressive American looks and tone, 
 we assured her it was all delightful. 
 
 Early as was our start next day there was an 
 equally good breakfast, and garlands of (mortuary) 
 dahlias all around the hood of the girls’ carriage, 
 and the hand bouquets for all were of late roses 
 and geraniums tied with ribbons. 
 
 And all this for- an amount in money so small 
 
SALZBURG. 
 
 385 
 
 by comparison that to us it seemed an unfair re- 
 turn. These inns are family property and the 
 “ good-will ” of this I should count as quite as val- 
 uable as its fine appointments. As in all Southern 
 countries the upper rooms are the best. On the 
 ground floor is the great kitchen and the “ travel- 
 lers’ room ” where all enter and get refreshment 
 — according to the purse — but no matter how 
 little is spent there is smiling welcome. Baedeker, 
 who is the German Murray, sends his son to make 
 walking tours in common clothes and report on 
 the reception given to such travellers, which they 
 publish in their guide-books and rarely do you see 
 any word of dispraise. 
 
 How we did enjoy that time in the mountains ! 
 At first consciously, then as matter of course, so 
 thoroughly had the complete rest entered into and 
 renewed us. 
 
 It was not “ always afternoon ” for all the 
 women we saw. Our American feelings were 
 sorely tried by the constant sight of women at 
 work in the fields where the earth was prepared 
 
 as for a flower bed, so finely was the soil crum- 
 
386 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 bled and smoothed. The manure cart would be 
 in charge of a boy with shoes on — he was to grow 
 into a soldier and must be healthy ; the women 
 were not only barefoot but barelegged, for their 
 skirts were tucked so high you had to see the want 
 of stocking or undergear. At one of the country 
 churches into which we went while stopping for 
 breakfast the Madonna’s Statue had a pair of 
 new thick brogans on the feet, and tied to its out- 
 stretched hand was a square of coarse but well- 
 bleached linen trimmed round with knit linen 
 lace ; evidently a votive offering from some weary 
 woman to whom the clean handkerchief and dry- 
 shod feet represented a heavenly rest. 
 
 We had our plan, but we broke it as often as 
 we were tempted to linger by a lovely lake or a 
 specially beautiful spot ; and there was a glacier 
 that just must be climbed. The stop near it 
 for the night was not enough. A guide was 
 engaged — “ the best of our mountaineers, he does 
 not go up with ever}'one, and his terms are high.” 
 The General and Frank and the guide went up 
 the glacier, and we spent our day mostly on the 
 
SALZBURG. 
 
 387 
 
 lake, and lying on the grass watching Anna sketch- 
 ing the glacier, and trying with our glasses to 
 make out three figures on it. They came back 
 at night delighted. The landlady carefully bring- 
 ing in our long plaids and making them wrap in 
 them after the day’s violent exercise ; and coming 
 and going, on hospitable cares intent — bringing 
 up word that the guide said that was no “ traveller ” 
 he was a “ mountain-man ” and knew a mountain 
 as welt as he did — and the boy would make a 
 climber too. And he was going to buy a cow with 
 the present given him (in memory of many a hard 
 climb in snow and rocks which did not end with 
 home faces and a good dinner and bed.) 
 
 For my tamed knee we went to the hot salt 
 baths of Ischl, where three baths removed all stiff- 
 ness, nor did it return. This is the great place 
 for rheumatism, always the mountaineer’s scourge. 
 /The hot salt baths are sovereign also for nervous 
 ailing women, and to them came the Empress of 
 Austria, the present one, when she was in such 
 sorrow that her health broke down completely. 
 She is a Hungarian ; the Emperor was having 
 
388 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 rough times with the Hungarian nobles and a 
 visit among them was thought desirable. To 
 make sure of a welcome it was held necessary 
 that the Empress, of whom they were proud, 
 should go too. Her first child, a baby girl, was 
 cutting its teeth and not well and she refused to 
 leave it. But she was persuaded that it was noth- 
 ing but passing usual fretfulness, and that she 
 could do so much for the Crown, etc,, etc., etc., 
 that she went with the Emperor and the welcome 
 was given and danger averted. But the baby 
 died while she was away. 
 
 It was not royal, but it was natural that she 
 turned from State-life in horror. She kept away 
 from Vienna ; her health was given as pretext for 
 her eccentric travel ; one winter she stayed on the 
 Island of Madeira. But she came back, and it is 
 said a peasant woman begged her to come to 
 Ischl and find health there. And health did come 
 back and every year she returns. We saw her 
 daily on horseback ; and on foot walking with her 
 big: dog: under the terrace-trees, listening to the 
 wild music of the Hungarian-gypsy band ; gener- 
 
SALZBURG. 
 
 389 
 
 ally in a short black silk skirt and white corduroy 
 jacket, her magnificent long hair in two heavy 
 plaits crossed behind her shoulders and the ends 
 tucked in in front as I have seen the Californian 
 and Mexican women wear their long braids. The 
 Princess Gisela, about sixteen then, had her daily 
 walk also past our hotel across the bridge to the 
 more open country beyond, unattended except by 
 her governess and in simple plaid woollen suits 
 and brown straw hat. 
 
 There is the most complete simplicity in this 
 most aristocratic of courts and nobility, when at 
 Ischl, and one usage charmed me. The bridge 
 under our windows was a thoroughfare and led 
 directly to the cemetery on a hill across the 
 water. 
 
 All the funerals passed over it. All we saw, 
 of the well-dressed and rich people, or the 
 poorer class, were conducted in the same way; 
 choir-boys led the way, the priest following ; then 
 the coffin borne by strong men ; then the family — 
 all w'alking. The priest would chant a verse of 
 the funeral service, all in the procession chanting 
 
39 ° 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 the response, and so, the sound fading away as 
 they moved on, the funerals would go by between 
 the gay hotel and the terrace always full of prom- 
 enaders. But what interested me most was to see 
 these people of ease and fashion quietly, and as 
 matter of course, join in the funeral procession 
 and cross the bridge with it, chanting the re- 
 sponses — then dropping out, return to their own 
 life. 
 
 One fine looking man I saw throw away his 
 cigar and taking by the hand two little boys they 
 crossed the bridge with a funeral, then on the 
 return father and boys had their walk under the 
 terrace trees. Asking his name, I found this was 
 Prince Hohenloe and the children were his. It 
 was a Christian recognition of the one inevit- 
 able common bond and always interested me 
 anew. 
 
 The weeks went by too fast. A large landau 
 and four fine horses managed by a postillion with 
 a cameo-profile, a green suit and a horn slung 
 round him on which he waked the echoes as we 
 dashed through villages, made our abode by day ; 
 
SALZBURG. 
 
 391 
 
 the long drives being always to different points. 
 “ Hernani,” as we christened the green-suited horn- 
 blowing handsome postillion, knew every place. 
 At one village Inn he stopped “by request,” and 
 and the landlord and “ a committee ” were waiting 
 to speak with us. They wished to say to the Amer- 
 ican General that they had faith in America and had 
 invested during our war in American greenbacks 
 (it was a village of some twelve hundred people 
 and Protestant) ; that there was much said against 
 their trusting our Government and there came a 
 time when printed news came to them that our 
 election for President was going to undo the 
 promise to pay in gold ; that they talked it over 
 and decided to write and inform themselves from 
 the highest authority, and that they wrote to the 
 “ Minister of Finance ” and by return mail his 
 answer came to them. The letter was framed 
 and preserved in their town records as evidence 
 of the superiority of Republican institutions. 
 “ When,” they said, “ when could we, villagers, 
 and of the people, write directly to our Minister of 
 Finance, or receive the immediate answer.” 
 
392 
 
 SOUVENIRS OF MY TIME. 
 
 This answer was that the election was not yet 
 decided, but that the success of the Republican 
 candidate, General Grant, was almost assured. 
 That with him the honor of the nation was safe. 
 And the signature was “ Hugh McCulloch, Sec- 
 retary of the Treasury." 
 
 You may be sure the swell of pride in our coun- 
 try was great, and that was a very sunshiny day. 
 
 But they had to come to their close. 
 
 After I was back at home on the Hudson I had 
 a large foreign parcel come to me ; an album 
 made for me by Anna of her own beautiful water- 
 color sketches of the places I had liked best on 
 “The Happy Journey” as she named it. There 
 are the red sails of the fishing boats on the blue 
 Baltic as we had watched them from the terrace 
 of her countiy'-house near Copenhagen while 
 Hans Andersen read us his “ Tale of a Thistle ; ” 
 the rich stained-glass oriel window of the Bishop’s 
 palace at Prague ; the two ein-spanners with their 
 muffled occupants in the low foreground and 
 mountains on mountains filling the background — 
 lovely views everywhere. We had named the 
 
SALZBURG. 
 
 393 
 
 railway carriage “ the family hearth ” for it was 
 only when shut in it for the day’s travel that we 
 had full leisure for talking over what we had seen 
 and talking up what we were to see. At Dresden 
 we had uniformed ourselves in long wraps of soft 
 Saxony-wool plaid of blue and green, with hats 
 of peacocks’ breasts to match; the General and 
 Frank having each a bit of peacock’s breast in 
 the band of their gray soft hats, and cravats of 
 green and blue plaid with their gray travelling 
 suits. When we looked around for one another 
 in the crowds at the stations the guards would 
 smile and touch the side of their own hats as they 
 pointed out the gray hats with the bit of peacock 
 breast. We regretted our change to usual bonnets 
 and gowns with which to arrive in Paris, but as 
 we ran in to the Gare St. Lazai-e and the General 
 came forward to meet us, Anna shut her eyes with 
 a little cry of regret. The becoming soft gray hat 
 was replaced by “the iron-crown of civilization,” 
 the high hat, and the closing picture in the book is 
 his photograph on which she had placed this mark 
 that the good mountain days were ended. 
 

 
 
 
 
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