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THE 
 
 BOYS AND GIRLS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 WHITE HOUSE 
 
 BY 
 AGNES CARR SAGE 
 
 Author of "A Little Colonial Dame," "A Little Daughter of 
 the Revolution," eic. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS 
 
.5 132 
 
 Copyright 1909. by 
 Frederick A. Stokes Company 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
 
 September, 1909 
 
TO THE BEST OF COUSINS 
 
 MRS. CLEMENT MOORE and ALICE M. BRITTAN 
 
 IN MEMORY OF THE DAYS WHEN WE WERE ALL 
 
 GIRLS TOGETHER, IN A BIG HOSPITABLE WHITE 
 
 HOUSE, THIS VOLUME IS 
 
 AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 THE HOMESTEAD OF THE NATION 
 
 LIKE a fairy tale runs the quaint legend 
 which sheds a glamour of romance over 
 the little tract of land known as the Dis- 
 trict of Columbia, the hub, as it were, of our re- 
 public, from which the United States radiate 
 out, in ever-increasing numbers. 
 
 Interesting, too, is the story of the City of 
 Laws, during the hundred and more years in 
 which it has been growing from a mere squatter 
 settlement into a vast town of most " magnifi- 
 cent distances," whose power reaches around 
 the world. 
 
 Described in ancient chronicles as " The most 
 healthful and pleasantest region in all this coun- 
 try," it was a capital long before George Wash- 
 ington paced off the Federal City; for there the 
 mighty Algonquin tribe of American Indians 
 came to hold their councils of war, and there 
 Powhatan — the father of Pocahontas — with 
 his eighty fiercest chiefs, donned their battle 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 paint or smoked the calumet — the great pipe 
 of peace. 
 
 " Nacochtank," they called this wigwam seat 
 of government while, later, when the red men 
 had given way to English ploughmen and wood- 
 choppers, an old prophecy was often recalled 
 that in this locality there was destined, some 
 day, to arise the capital of a very strong and 
 powerful nation. 
 
 Legendary lore says that in 1663, one Fran- 
 cis Pope was vouchsafed a vision of the future, 
 in which he beheld a stately house of parlia- 
 ment crowning what is now Capitol Hill. With 
 faith in this dream, then, he straightway pur- 
 chased the eminence and made himself " Pope 
 of Rome," by naming it after the Imperial Ital- 
 ian City, while the sluggish stream at its base 
 he called the " Tiber." 
 
 But the world moved slowly in those early 
 Colonial days, and the visionary Francis passed 
 away before he had seen the fulfilment of his 
 revelation, although he died in the firm belief 
 that his wooded hill would yet be the site of a 
 grand edifice, devoted to the laws and law- 
 makers of a mighty empire. 
 
 Handed down from mouth to mouth, this 
 fantastic fable was finally told to General Wash- 
 ington and his chosen architect, Major L'En- 
 viii 
 
The Homestead of the Nation 
 
 fant, when they met the owners of the land, in 
 an old-fashioned tavern at Georgetown, to ne- 
 gotiate for the transfer of the property to the 
 Government, and may have inspired them with 
 fresh hope for the success of the infant republic, 
 although, at that period, naught but forest trees 
 covered the hill called " Rome " and the " Ti- 
 ber " was derisively known as " Goose Creek." 
 This last is said to still flow on as a modern 
 sewer. 
 
 George Washington, however, had noted and 
 loved this beautiful spot from the time he was 
 only an obscure lieutenant with the Army, on 
 Observatory Hill, and it was his influence which 
 swayed the council to select that site; he who 
 drew up the agreement; and he who planned the 
 capital city which Pierre Charles L'Enfant laid 
 out on paper and on such a grand scale that 
 most people considered it wild and chimerical. 
 
 The artistic Frenchman was shortly after re- 
 moved, and Andrew Ellicott of Philadelphia 
 put in his place, but the fair city of dreams, as. 
 it stands to-day, certainly had its origin in the- 
 first architect's daring, creative brain. 
 
 Now, then, at last, Pope's shadowy vision 
 
 was crystallized into reality. The dome of the 
 
 Capitol, designed by Dr. William Thornton,; 
 
 arose on the summit of " Rome," while a mile 
 
 ix 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 and a half away, a home for the rulers of the 
 nation was erected on Pennsylvania Avenue, the 
 street which has well been termed the " Via 
 Sacra " of the new world. 
 
 It was Captain James Hobon, an Irishman, 
 who planned the White House, modelling it 
 after the palace of the Duke of Leinster, in 
 Dublin; and the corner stone was laid on the 
 13th of October, 1792. Constructed of Vir- 
 ginia freestone, painted white, it has a front- 
 age of one hundred and seventy feet and is 
 eighty-six feet deep, with a circular porch in 
 the rear and a colonnade in front. Burned by 
 the British in 18 14, it was rebuilt in the self- 
 same manner, almost a replica of the original 
 mansion, and here, ever since the days of John 
 Adams, our Presidents and their families have 
 lived and moved and had their political being. 
 
 Within its snowy walls, a myriad joys and a 
 myriad sorrows have been known. Little souls 
 have been born; great ones passed away. The 
 famous East Room, eighty feet long by forty 
 feet wide, and the pretty Blue Room, have each 
 been the scene of many a wedding and many a 
 christening; while, as we look back across the 
 nineteenth century, we see a bright, blithe band 
 of young Americans, the boys and girls of the 
 historic White House, who have come and gone, 
 x 
 
The Homestead of the Nation 
 
 flitting through the gardens, awaking the 
 echoes in the long corridors with their fresh 
 ringing voices and ever, by their presence, mak- 
 ing a more cheery and homelike place of the big 
 stone Homestead of the Nation. 
 
 XI 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 Introduction — The Homestead of the Na- 
 tion vii 
 
 I. Washington's Adopted Children ... i 
 
 II. Four Little Yankees 26 
 
 III. A Band of Young Virginians 38 
 
 IV. The " Prince of America " and the Payne 
 
 Girls 55 
 
 V. The Aristocratic Monroes 72 
 
 VI. The Cosmopolitan Adams Family ... 81 
 
 VII. Indian Lincoyer and the Merry Andrews 93 
 
 VIII. The Van Buren Boys 108 
 
 IX. Tippecanoe and His Family, Too . . . .115 
 
 X. An Octave of F. F. V.'s 120 
 
 XI. " Miss Betty " Taylor 131 
 
 XII. Clever Mary Fillmore 138 
 
 XIII. The Bonny Lass of Lancaster .... 145 
 
 XIV The Lincoln Lads 155 
 
 XV. Some Little People From Tennessee . . 169 
 
 XVI. The Young Grants 182 
 
 XVII. A " Buckeye " Family 201 
 
 XVIII. The Garfield Children 218 
 
 XIX. Nellie Arthur and Her Brother .... 240 
 
 XX. A President's Ward 252 
 
 XXI. " Baby McKee " and His Sister .... 266 
 
 XXII. The Cleveland Babies and a Childless 
 
 Couple 276 
 
 XXIII. A Bunch of Knickerbockers 285 
 
 XXIV. The Household of Taft 315 
 
THE BOYS AND GIRLS OF THE 
 WHITE HOUSE 
 
THE 
 
 BOYS AND GIRLS OF THE 
 
 WHITE HOUSE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 Washington's adopted children 
 
 SOMEONE has said that " George Wash- 
 ington was never given sons and daugh- 
 ters of his own, in order that he might be 
 the Father of his Country " ; but he was a parent 
 to more than the land of his birth, so warmly 
 did the children and grandchildren of his wife 
 entwine themselves about his heart and grow 
 into his life and love; while to them, our first 
 President ever proved the wisest and kindest of 
 stepfathers. 
 
 Little John and Martha Parke Custis were 
 but six and four years of age when their mother, 
 the rich and attractive widow, Martha Dan- 
 dridge Custis, married gallant Colonel Wash- 
 ington. Oddly enough, too, the pleasant home 
 on the York River where these young folks were 
 I 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 born was known far and wide as the " White 
 House." 
 
 The great Virginian plantation, as well as 
 the " Six Chimney House " in Williamsburg, 
 belonged to their own, though scarcely-remem- 
 bered, father, and was by him bequeathed to his 
 wife and little ones, and in these two places they 
 dwelt during the mother's widowhood. Some 
 writers, too, have endeavored to trace a fanci- 
 ful connection between the name of the Custis 
 homestead and that of the White House in the 
 District of Columbia, saying that Washington 
 wished the official residence of the Presidents of 
 the United States to be so called in memory of 
 the lovely spot in which his happiness was con- 
 summated; but there seems no foundation for 
 this romantic theory. 
 
 The fact remains, though, that young Jacky 
 and Patsy — as they were fondly nicknamed — 
 were a veritable boy and girl of the White 
 House, although they never saw the famous ex- 
 ecutive mansion, which was not then even 
 dreamed of. 
 
 But it was a happy January day for them, 
 when the tall, military man came to their ances- 
 tral home and there was a gay colonial wedding 
 at Twelfth Night, celebrated with true, old- 
 time Virginia hospitality, and to which fair 
 
 2 
 
Washington's Adopted Children 
 
 dames and distinguished men nocked from miles 
 around. 
 
 The remainder of the winter was passed in 
 the quaint, old city of Williamsburg, then the 
 capital, and which was laid out with its streets 
 forming a W and M, in honor of William and 
 Mary, who in 1689 had been proclaimed the 
 Lord and Lady of Virginia. But when the 
 flowers bloomed in the spring they were whisked 
 away, in a chariot and four, to beautiful Mount 
 Vernon, that now historic house, filled with mas- 
 sive furniture and odd bric-a-brac, where they 
 found acres of rich land laid out in lawns, fruit 
 orchards and flower gardens; a blue, rippling 
 river to fish and wade in, and a great enclosed 
 portico, more than ninety feet long, that was 
 the finest playroom in the world, for a rainy 
 day. 
 
 Here, then, they lived, during the happy 
 hours of childhood; Martha, who is recorded as 
 " a lady-like child of winning ways," studying 
 the very simple lessons thought necessary for 
 girls a hundred and fifty years ago, working 
 samplers in " cross, tent and satin stitch," and 
 practising on the harpsichord, beneath Lady 
 Washington's gentle but firm tuition, and mean- 
 while growing into the charitable little " dark 
 lady," as she was called from her brunette com- 
 3 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 plexion, who, as years increased, might often 
 be seen on her pony going about on errands of 
 mercy to the cottages of the poor and afflicted. 
 
 Master John, on the contrary, was his step- 
 father's daily companion, learning from him 
 military tactics and engineering, while together 
 they enjoyed many a glorious gallop or tracked 
 some wily Reynard to the death. As the great 
 man once noted in his diary, " Went a-hunting 
 with Jacky Custis and catched a fox; after three 
 hours' chase found it in the creek." 
 
 In the evening, guests were frequently at 
 Mount Vernon, but if there were none, the 
 master was fond of reading aloud, or one can 
 imagine him, on a stormy w r inter night, by the 
 big log fire, drawing Jacky and Patsy to his 
 knee and telling them stories of his own boy- 
 hood, of the pranks of the pupils at Master 
 Hobby's school, or how he once attempted to 
 tame a wild colt and the dire result thereof. 
 Much better, too, does this true incident set 
 forth the honesty and manliness of Washing- 
 ton's youthful character, than the popular and 
 rather mythical tradition of the cherry tree and 
 the hatchet. 
 
 George was but a lad in his early teens when 
 one summer morning he, together with two or 
 three boys who were visiting him, strolled out 
 4 
 
Washington's Adopted Children 
 
 to see his mother's colts, among which was one 
 very valuable but very vicious young horse that 
 was particularly prized by Mary Washington 
 because it was of a pedigreed race which her 
 husband had bred. Never did a brute beast 
 display a more fierce and ungovernable temper, 
 and it was generally believed that it could never 
 be tamed. 
 
 Youth, however, is daring, and presently 
 George suggested that if his companions would 
 help him catch the colt and force a bridle bit 
 into his mouth, he would mount him. They 
 readily agreed and before the sorrel compre- 
 hended what was intended, he was driven into 
 a corner, the bridle was adjusted and our future 
 President on his back. But then a terrible 
 struggle ensued. His lordly horseship wildly 
 reared and plunged and rushed madly about 
 the fields, but the boy stuck firmly on his 
 bare back and curbed him with his strong, 
 young arms. In vain the colt tried to dislodge 
 his rider, and finally, making one last, desperate 
 effort, he burst a blood vessel and fell, dying on 
 the ground. 
 
 At this catastrophe the lads were frightened 
 
 and dismayed beyond measure, for every one 
 
 stood deeply in awe of Madam Washington, 
 
 and " what to say to her " was the question all 
 
 5 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 but George were debating when they were sum- 
 moned in to breakfast. 
 
 The first question, too, of the lady of the 
 house was, " Pray, young gentlemen, have you 
 seen my blooded colts in your rambles ? I hope 
 they are well taken care of; my favorite, I am 
 told, is as large as his sire." 
 
 At this the guests were overcome with con- 
 fusion, but when the question was repeated, 
 George spoke up and said: "Your favorite, 
 Madam, is dead." 
 
 "Dead!" she exclaimed. "How has this 
 happened? " 
 
 " That sorrel horse," replied the brave boy, 
 " has long been considered ungovernable and be- 
 yond the power of man to tame. This morn- 
 ing we forced a bit into his mouth. I mounted 
 him and rode him around the pasture, but in a 
 desperate struggle for the mastery he broke a 
 blood vessel, fell under me, and is now no 
 more." 
 
 For an instant the mother's cheek flushed 
 with anger, but a moment later, she remarked, 
 with the calmness and justice for which she was 
 noted, " It is well ; but while I regret the loss 
 of my favorite animal, I rejoice in my son who 
 always speaks the truth." 
 6 
 
Washington's Adopted Children 
 
 Doubtless this anecdote was a popular one 
 at the Mount Vernon fireside; but no matter 
 how entertaining the reading or conversation, 
 the family party always broke up and retired as 
 soon as the tall clock chimed the hour of nine. 
 
 Surrounded by every comfort, ten years rolled 
 smoothly and happily on, the only shadow be- 
 ing the delicate health of young Martha, who 
 had inherited from her father the dread seeds 
 of consumption. Much was hoped from a visit 
 to the Warm Springs of Virginia, but nothing 
 was of any avail, and one summer day she 
 faded away quite suddenly, like the sweet June 
 roses blooming outside at the time. 
 
 Washington, who was deeply attached to the 
 gentle girl, hastened home from his public du- 
 ties at Williamsburg, only just in time to have 
 her breathe her last in his arms, and to him she 
 bequeathed all her property, which was no in- 
 considerable fortune. 
 
 The negroes, as well as the family, were heart- 
 broken at the loss of lovely Patsy, while the fol- 
 lowing year Mrs. Washington was still too sad 
 to attend the wedding of her son; for in Febru- 
 ary John suddenly abandoned his studies at 
 King's College, New York, in order to marry 
 young Eleanor Calvert, a maiden of " sweet 
 7 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 sixteen " and a grandchild of Lord Baltimore. 
 Ready enough, though, was she to welcome 
 the girlish bride and sent her this note: 
 
 " My dear Nelly : 
 
 " God took from Me a Daughter when June 
 roses were blooming. He has given me another 
 daughter, about her Age, when Winter Winds 
 are blooming, to warm my Heart again. I am 
 as Happy as one so Afflicted and so Blest can 
 be. Pray receive my Benediction and a Wish 
 that You may long live the Loving Wife of 
 my happy Son and a Loving Daughter of 
 " Your Affectionate Mother, 
 
 " M. Washington." 
 
 The first wish was fulfilled for nine years, but 
 nine very anxious years, not only at Mount Ver- 
 non, but also at the home of the young couple 
 at Abingdon on the Potomac; for a greater part 
 of the time, both Washington and his ward were 
 away, fighting for American independence. 
 
 Scarcely, too, had Cornwallis surrendered, 
 when a messenger arrived with news that " Col- 
 onel John Custis was dying of camp fever 
 at Eltham, near Yorktown," and he shortly fol- 
 lowed his sister, leaving his wife a widow at 
 twenty-five, and four small children, the young- 
 est two of whom, Eleanor Parke Custis, two 
 8 
 
Washington's Adopted Children 
 
 and a half years old, and George Washington 
 Parke Custis, a dimpled baby of six months, 
 were legally adopted by General and Lady 
 Washington. 
 
 So once again the old rooms at Mount Ver- 
 non rang with merry childish voices and a new 
 generation filled the places of " dear Jacky " 
 and the little " dark lady." The grandparents, 
 however, found dark-eyed, curly-headed Nelly 
 a very different child from her tractable Aunt 
 Patsy, for the gay, saucy lassie cared far more 
 for play and romping than for books and mu- 
 sic, while she rebelled outright at having her 
 head dressed each day with feathers and ribbons. 
 As she grew older, her foster father, to encour- 
 age her, presented her with a fine harpsichord, 
 costing one thousand dollars; but this only 
 proved an instrument of torture to the young 
 lady when forced to practise, and her brother 
 records that " She would cry and play and play 
 and cry for hours." The detested harpsichord 
 still graces Mount Vernon, having been gener- 
 ously sent back there by Mrs. Lee after the 
 purchase of the historic spot by the Women of 
 America. 
 
 The blond, little boy was undoubtedly his 
 grandmother's favorite, and Nelly often said, 
 11 It was well grandpa and not grandma was 
 9 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 educating Washington, for grandma certainly 
 would spoil him." 
 
 But the petted darlings had good times on 
 the dear old plantation, where their mother 
 often stayed with them, as well as their two 
 elder sisters, Elizabeth and Martha, and both 
 accompanied Lady Washington on her tri- 
 umphal journey to New York a month after 
 her husband's inauguration as first President of 
 the United States, and, at the ages of eight and 
 ten years, enjoyed many a peep at the fashion- 
 able gaieties of the day. 
 
 It seems a pity that they could not have wit- 
 nessed the great Inauguration itself, but they, 
 probably, had many glowing descriptions writ- 
 ten them thereof, and I am sure they would have 
 heartily enjoyed a letter supposedly indited by 
 a lad of 1789, and which may well be intro- 
 duced here, as giving an account of the grand 
 event, from a boy's standpoint. 
 
 23 Nassau Street, New York, 
 
 May 5, 1789. 
 
 My Dear Winthrop, — It is a thousand 
 
 pities that you had so soon to return to Boston, 
 
 for vastly stirring times have we had in New 
 
 York this spring, and we boys have come in 
 
 10 
 
Washington's Adopted Children 
 
 for our share of the sport, and have paraded 
 the streets in cocked hats, with swords at our 
 sides, every minute out of school, for a full 
 month past. I was chosen the captain of the 
 " Juvenile Tomahawks," and I flatter myself 
 that my company did credit to its commander, 
 when, on the 23rd of April, we marched in the 
 wake of the military procession down to Mur- 
 ray's Wharf to welcome the new President,' and 
 I know we made more noise than any other regi- 
 ment there, as every mother's son shouted at the 
 top of his lungs, if a bit out of tune — 
 
 " Brave Washington arrives, 
 
 Arrayed in warlike fame, 
 While in his soul revives 
 
 Great Marlboro's martial fame, 
 To lead our young republic on 
 
 To lasting glory and renown." 
 
 which is an old song made over to suit the occa- 
 sion. 
 
 The girls fancied it immensely, for as we 
 passed Mistress Graham's Select School, all 
 the pupils came running to the windows, and 
 comely Betty Waddington, who generally is 
 such a high and mighty little puss, flung a great 
 bunch of purple laylocks and yellow daffies right 
 1 1 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 at my feet, while the rest giggled and cheered 
 and waved their kerchiefs as though they were 
 half daft with delight. 
 
 I assure you, after that, the drum and fife 
 outdid themselves, and every " Tomahawk " 
 held himself as straight as an Indian brave ; but 
 the wharf once reached, such a rare view met 
 our eyes that we all broke ranks and scrambled 
 for good places to see, while little Wash Irv- 
 ing's eyes nearly popped out with excitement. 
 Verily, Win, it was grand to behold the blue bay 
 dotted over with hundreds of boats, dancing up 
 and down on the waves, and every ship in the 
 harbor but one a perfect nosegay of banners and 
 streamers. The government vessel, North 
 Carolina, was a " sight for gods and men," as 
 brother Jake says; but will you credit it, the 
 Galveston, the Spanish man-of-war, never dis- 
 played a color except her own national flag? 
 Deary me! you ought to have heard how the 
 people growled and grumbled at the " ill-man- 
 nered Spaniard " ; but pretty soon we forgot all 
 but the coming hero as a volley of cannon 
 sounded from the Jersey shore, and the finest 
 barge that ever I saw came darting out of the 
 Kills, rowed by thirteen masters of vessels, 
 all dressed in white, with little Tom Randall's 
 12 
 
Washington's Adopted Children 
 
 father acting as cockswain, and commanded by 
 Commodore Nicholson. 
 
 In the centre sat the General, and what do 
 you think? Just as he came abreast of the 
 Galveston, in an instant, as if by magic, the ship 
 bloomed out with every flag and signal known, 
 while from the deck was fired a salute of thir- 
 teen guns. Wasn't that a handsome compli- 
 ment? And the crowd changed its tune in a 
 twinkling, and cheered and shouted itself hoarse, 
 while the " Tomahawks " did their share so 
 nobly that an old soldier with a wooden leg 
 nodded approval, and said: "Ay, that's 
 right, my little cockerels ! Crow away ! Ye'll 
 never again see a day like to this day." 
 
 Billy Van Antwerp, Arty Tappan and I crept 
 down close to the stairs prepared for the chief- 
 tain to land by, so heard every word of Gov- 
 ernor Clinton's address of welcome, and then 
 we tramped after the troops when they escorted 
 his Excellency up through Queen Street to the 
 Governor's quarters near Pine. There was a 
 chariot waiting for him to ride in, but he would 
 have none of it, and walked off arm in arm 
 with his host under the floral arches erected in 
 his honor, just as though he was Taffy the fid- 
 dler or some other commonplace body. But for 
 13 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 all that, Cousin Win, he is the grandest, most 
 splendid gentleman that ever wore shoe buckles, 
 and my throat was sore for two days from 
 shrieking, — "Huzza! huzza! three cheers for 
 the Father of his Country! " 
 
 Master Hoppin gave us holiday for the 
 whole day, so we had a famous drill in the 
 afternoon, only a shower came up and wet us to 
 the skin, while we were afraid it would spoil the 
 illuminations in the evening. Howsomever, 
 the rain held up after sundown, so, although 
 the pavements were very damp, New York was 
 as gay as a pantomime with candles, lamps, and 
 transparencies. 
 
 But if the 23rd of April was a goodly day, 
 the 30th was goodlier, for then the Inaugura- 
 tion took place in the Federal Hall, at Wall 
 and Broad streets, which you will remember as 
 the old tumble-down City Hall, but which has 
 been all made over by the French architect, 
 Monsieur L'Enfant, and now has a most beau- 
 tiful balcony and arcade. 
 
 I tried to persuade brother Jake to ask the 
 Marshal, Colonel Lewis, to let the Juvenile 
 Tomahawks march in the procession, but Jake 
 is vastly stuck up since he joined the " Gren- 
 adiers," and laughed and poked so much fun at 
 the idea, saying, " Little bantams shouldn't try 
 14 
 
Washington's Adopted Children 
 
 to stretch their necks too high," that I was 
 sorely affronted, and stamped out of the house 
 to cool my rage. Anyway I shall be six feet 
 myself some day, and then if I am not a Gren- 
 adier my name is not Bob Van Kortland. 
 
 Well, on the morning of the 30th all the old 
 folks went to church to pray for the new gov- 
 ernment, but we boys were off betimes to Broad 
 Street and secured a capital place on a roof op- 
 posite the Hall, where we sat and dangled our 
 feet over the edge and munched gingerbread 
 until after twelve o'clock, when Captain Stakes's 
 dragoons hove in sight, for again the city troops 
 had to escort the President-elect from his resi- 
 dence in Cherry Street. After them came Cap- 
 tain Van Dyck's artillery, and then the other 
 foot soldiers; and verily I did feel proud of 
 Jake when I saw him marching with the other 
 tall youths, in his blue uniform with its red fac- 
 ings and gold ornaments, his cocked hat adorned 
 with white feathers and his black " spatter- 
 dashes " buttoned close from knee to shoe top. 
 
 Captain Scriba's German company, also, 
 looked as gorgeous as a flock of peacocks, in 
 blue coats, yellow waistcoats and breeches, and 
 funny black bearskin caps, while every fat face 
 beamed with happiness, for many of them were 
 once the slaves of the Prince of Hesse Cassel, 
 15 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 but have lately had their freedom purchased for 
 them. The Highlanders, too, marched well, 
 and they squeaked away on their bagpipes like 
 good fellows. 
 
 The street below was one mass of upturned 
 faces; every window, roof and balcony was 
 thronged; and while we waited, that pudding- 
 head Fig Coltey wagered me a dozen cheese 
 cakes that the new President would wear a 
 crown like the picture of King George and a big 
 cloak trimmed with ermine. 
 
 You can fancy my elation, then, when the 
 great man stepped out on the balcony dressed in 
 a plain suit of brown cloth, white silk stockings, 
 and shoes with the simplest of silver buckles, all 
 of which they tell me are of American manu- 
 facture. I am sure you would have laughed 
 could you have seen Fig's disgusted counte- 
 nance (his father is suspected of being a bit of 
 a Tory) , as he gazed with his mouth wide open, 
 his nose an inch higher than usual, and looking 
 for all the world like a dying duck in a thunder- 
 storm. So I won the cheese cakes, and uncom- 
 monly good they were, but just after that we 
 had no time to think of wagers, for we were all 
 busy picking out the distinguished men in the 
 background — John Adams, the Vice-President, 
 Roger Sherman, General Knox, Baron Steuben, 
 16 
 
Washington's Adopted Children 
 
 and a host of others that I have not space to 
 mention. Then Chancellor Livingston, dressed 
 all in black like a mute at a funeral, arose, and 
 the little Secretary of the Senate held up a large, 
 open Bible on a beautiful crimson cushion. It 
 was so still you could have heard a pin drop, 
 and oh, how noble and dignified Washington 
 did look as he stretched out his hand to take 
 the oath of office, and bowing his powdered 
 head, kissed the book! But as soon as the 
 Chancellor proclaimed, " Long live George 
 Washington, the President of the United 
 States! " I verily believe the huzzas might have 
 been heard down at Sandy Hook. Faith, it 
 was a fine, solemn scene, and one I shall never 
 forget should I live to be as old as Daddy Top- 
 liff ; and much did I desire to hear the inaugural 
 speech. But they would not let us into the Hall 
 of Representatives, where it was delivered, so 
 all the Tomahawks scampered off to St. Paul's 
 Church, and waited in line until the new Presi- 
 dent drove up there, when, as he entered, we 
 presented arms, at which he smiled and nodded 
 and said something to Mr. Adams about 
 " Young Americans." 
 
 Cousin Bella will be interested to know 
 that there is soon to be a very grand inaugural 
 ball in the City Assembly rooms for which 
 17 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 my sisters are having made exceedingly fine 
 petticoats and perriots of striped silk trimmed 
 with gauze — at least that is what I think Eve 
 told me to say — while they are taking private 
 dancing lessons from Monsieur Hewlett, in 
 hopes of having the honor of treading a minuet 
 with " Mr. President," as Congress has decided 
 the new ruler shall be called. Howsoever, 
 many regrets are expressed that Lady Washing- 
 ton will not be here on the occasion. 
 
 In faith, Winthrop, this is a lengthy letter 
 which I have writ you with my own hand, the 
 more so that I am none too fond of wielding 
 the quill, so I will only add that I have just 
 heard that Arty Tappan has been selected to 
 serve as a page at the ball, and present each 
 lady with a French fan of ivory and paper 
 bearing a likeness of George Washington, as a 
 souvenir of the first inauguration. 
 
 Pray present my respects to Uncle and Aunt 
 Endicott, and believe me, as ever, 
 Your affectionate kinsman, 
 Robert Bayard Van Kortland. 
 
 But although the young folks of Mount Ver- 
 non were not with Bob and Arty and little 
 Washington Irving on the day of that great 
 pageant, the journey they took to New York 
 18 
 
Washington's Adopted Children 
 
 in company with their grandmamma and their 
 tutor, Mr. Tobias Lear, who also acted as sec- 
 retary to the General, was almost a royal 
 progress, with military receptions, music and 
 fireworks all along the route, while they were 
 welcomed to the metropolis with prolonged 
 cheers and shouts of " Long live President 
 Washington and God bless Lady Washington," 
 on all sides. 
 
 Here their home and the first executive man- 
 sion was a low-ceilinged house on the corner of 
 Pearl and Cherry streets, which was sometimes 
 dignified by the title of " the Palace." But it 
 was an exceedingly simple court that was held 
 there, and the children's studies were vigorously 
 kept up under Mr. Lear and the wise discipline 
 of their grandmother, although no doubt they 
 were often allowed a half hour at the Friday 
 evening receptions when the Vans and Vons of 
 the old Knickerbocker and Patroon families 
 came to pay their respects to the head of the 
 nation; where there was always plum-cake, tea, 
 coffee and pleasant chit-chat; but which were 
 invariably broken up at an early hour by the 
 hostess rising and saying with a gracious smile : 
 " The General always retires at nine and I 
 usually precede him." 
 
 The domestic part of the household, both 
 19 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 here and later in the more commodious man- 
 sion on Broadway, near Bowling Green, was 
 looked after by Samuel Fraunces, the keeper of 
 the once famous Fraunces' Tavern, while under 
 him served a cook by the name of Hercules; and 
 of these young Custis wrote in after years, 
 " When Fraunces, in snow white apron, silk 
 shirt and stockings, and hair in full powder, 
 placed the first dish on the table, the clock 
 being on the stroke of four, ' the labors of Her- 
 cules ' ceased." 
 
 In his reminiscences, too, he vouches for the 
 " fish story," having probably been an eyewit- 
 ness of the scene, when a lad of eight or ten 
 years. Knowing Washington's fondness for 
 sea-food, Fraunces provided a shad very early 
 in the season when they were exceedingly scarce 
 and dear. Hardly, however, had the delicacy 
 appeared upon the board when the President 
 inquired its price. 
 
 " Three dollars," stammered Fraunces, at 
 which Washington fairly thundered forth, 
 " Take it away, take it away, sir; it shall never 
 be said that my table sets such an example of 
 luxury and extravagance." 
 
 It was rather a regret to all the Washingtons 
 when the seat of government was removed to 
 Philadelphia and went into residence in " a 
 20 
 
Washington's Adopted Children 
 
 small, red brick house next door to a hair- 
 dresser; but there was much gaiety in the City 
 of Brotherly Love at the close of the eighteenth 
 century and many distinguished people there did 
 congregate. It was here Nelly Custis returned 
 home from the school at Annapolis where she 
 was " finished," and both here and at Mount 
 Vernon she was often visited by her bosom 
 friends, Elizabeth Bordley and Martha Coffin; 
 and these three chums seem to have done all 
 the fond, foolish things dear to the old fash- 
 ioned school-girl. They wrote romantic letters 
 to each other, composed verses, swore undying 
 friendship, and finally, had portraits painted for 
 each member of the trio. 
 
 Elizabeth Bordley, particularly, was very 
 much given to writing poetry, and living, as she 
 did, in Philadelphia, was frequently at the pres- 
 idential home, and later, as Mrs. Gibson, loved 
 to tell of Washington leaving his study of 
 an evening to enjoy the society of the young 
 people and dance with them a Virginia reel. It 
 was Mrs. Gibson, too, who has left us this pretty 
 pen-picture of Lady Washington and her 
 adopted daughter: 
 
 " Mrs. Washington was in the habit of re- 
 tiring at an early hour to her own room unless 
 detained by company, and there, no matter what 
 21 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 the hour, Nellie attended her. One evening 
 my father's carriage being late in coming for 
 me, my dear young friend invited me to ac- 
 company her to grandmama's room. There, 
 after some little chat, Mrs. Washington apolo- 
 gized to me for pursuing her usual preparations 
 for the night, and Nellie entered upon her ac- 
 customed duty by reading a chapter and psalm 
 from the old family Bible, after which all pres- 
 ent knelt in evening prayer; Mrs. Washington's 
 faithful maid then assisted her to disrobe and 
 lay her head upon the pillow; Nellie then sang 
 a verse of some sweetly soothing hymn, and 
 then leaning down received the parting blessing 
 for the night, with some emphatic remarks on 
 her duties, improvements, etc. The effect of 
 these judicious habits and teachings appeared 
 in the granddaughter's character through life." 
 So the eight years of the first administration 
 were on the whole pleasant and satisfactory 
 to old and young, though it was without regret 
 that Washington resigned his high office. Nelly 
 Custis was among those at the inauguration of 
 John Adams, and it is said she was so agitated 
 that " she could not trust herself to be near 
 her honored grandfather." Nevertheless, 
 shortly after their return to Mount Vernon, 
 she wrote to a friend: 
 
 22 
 
Washington's Adopted Children 
 
 " We arrived here on Wednesday without 
 any accident, after a tedious journey of seven 
 days. Grandpapa is very well and much 
 pleased with being once more Farmer Wash- 
 ington." 
 
 Neighbors rejoiced at having the family back, 
 and a guest who once partook of the Mount 
 Vernon hospitality, has given us this account 
 of its lavishness: 
 
 " The table of dark mahogany, waxed and 
 polished like a mirror, was square. In the 
 center stood a branched epergne of silver wire 
 and cut glass filled with a tasteful arrangement 
 of apples, pears, plums, peaches and grapes. 
 At one end, Mrs. Washington, looking as hand- 
 some as ever, assisted by a young lady, presided 
 behind a handsome silver tea-service. There 
 was an enormous silver hot-water urn nearly two 
 feet high and a whole battalion of tiny flaring 
 cups and saucers of blue India china. The sil- 
 ver, polished to its highest, reflected the blaze 
 of many wax candles in branched candelabra 
 and in sticks of silver. Fried oysters, waffles, 
 fried chicken, cold turkey, canvasback ducks, 
 venison, and that Southern institution, a baked 
 ham, were among the good things provided for 
 the company of gentlemen invited by the Pres- 
 ident to sup with him. Lady Washington dis- 
 23 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 pensed the tea with so much grace that each 
 gentleman was constrained to take it." 
 
 That a maiden so high-born and beautiful 
 as Eleanor Custis should have a host of suitors 
 goes without saying, and among these was young 
 Charles Carroll, of Carrolton. That she said 
 him " nay," however, seems almost certain and, 
 soon after, the fair girl delighted her grand- 
 father by wedding his favorite nephew, Law- 
 rence Lewis. 
 
 This occurred on February 22nd, 1799, and 
 the record in Washington's diary, on his last 
 birthday, reads — 
 
 "The Rev d Mr. Davis and Mr. George 
 Calvert came to dinner and Miss Custis was 
 married about candle-light to Mr. Law* 
 Lewis." 
 
 Meanwhile, young Washington Custis was 
 receiving his education at Annapolis and Prince- 
 ton, where he was chiefly noted for his faculty 
 for spending money, but in after life became 
 known as a man of fine taste and versatile tal- 
 ents. He was fond of music and art and 
 painted some quite creditable battle scenes, 
 while he also wrote plays and poems and con- 
 tributed to newspapers. He married an ex- 
 tremely accomplished woman, Miss Mary Lee 
 Fitzhugh, and, after the death of Lady Wash- 
 24 
 
Washington's Adopted Children 
 
 ington, built the mansion — " Arlington House " 
 — on an estate left him by his father, on the 
 west side of the Potomac. Here he gathered 
 together family portraits and numerous relics 
 of our first President and the Revolution, and is 
 best remembered by his " Recollections and Pri- 
 vate Memories," which fondly recall the 
 " Father of his Country," and his own dear 
 adopted parent. 
 
 25 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 FOUR LITTLE YANKEES 
 
 THE three sons and one daughter of 
 John Adams must, by courtesy, be con- 
 sidered the first young people of the 
 real White House at Washington, although 
 they had passed the bounds of boyhood and 
 girlhood when their father was chosen second 
 President of the United States, succeeding the 
 great man with whom he had served as Vice- 
 President, and of whom he was always sadly 
 jealous. 
 
 On the mother's side they traced their lineage 
 back to the Smiths of Weymouth, veritable 
 Puritans of Puritans, and Parson William 
 Smith's family and congregation shook their 
 heads in wondering disapproval when his daugh- 
 ter Abigail followed the dictates of her heart 
 and wedded young John Adams, the son of a 
 small farmer of the middle class, and what 
 was far worse, a lawyer by profession — that 
 calling being considered scarcely honest by strict 
 church people in Colonial days. 
 26 
 
Four Little Yankees 
 
 Much gossip there must have been, for the 
 bride's father — who had a good bit of hu- 
 mor mixed up with his Calvinism — replied to 
 it in a sermon, taking for his text : 
 
 " For John came neither eating bread nor 
 drinking wine, and ye say he hath a devil." 
 
 This certainly was hard on worthy John 
 Adams, who was a clever, earnest young fellow, 
 and very far from having a devil ; but he carried 
 off his wife in triumph to his plain, little home 
 at Braintree, a small town eleven miles from 
 Boston. 
 
 It was just such a frame house as you 
 may see hundreds of in New England, with a 
 door in the middle, a window on each side, and 
 three above, and a sharply sloping roof; and 
 here, before many years, we hear of the minis- 
 ter coming over to hold another little Abigail, 
 as well as a small grandson, John Quincy, upon 
 his knee, and tell them, not nursery rhymes and 
 fairy tales, but true stories of the early settlers 
 and thrilling encounters with Indians and wild 
 beasts. 
 
 " Abby favors her father," the neighbors 
 were wont to say, when the eldest child was 
 big enough to rock her baby brother to sleep 
 in the quaint old wooden cradle hewed out of a 
 great pine log and with an overhanging hood. 
 27 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 But it was the mother who instructed her in the 
 " three R's," as they were facetiously termed, 
 trained her in all domestic tasks and taught her 
 to work upon her sampler, even while she her- 
 self performed her domestic duties in the big, 
 cheerful kitchen, festooned with strings of dried 
 apples and hung with ears of corn and bunches 
 of dried catnip, pennyroyal and boneset. 
 
 In those days letter-writing was considered a 
 most important accomplishment and each week 
 little Abigail and her young friends would in- 
 dite wonderful epistles, more like essays than 
 notes, and filled with religious sentiments. 
 These effusions they carried to church on the 
 Sabbath and exchanged with one another. 
 
 As for young John Quincy Adams, the 
 " times that tried men's souls," as well as the 
 severe Puritanic manner in which he was bred, 
 made him the thoughtful, self-repressed boy 
 his name always seems to suggest, and old far 
 beyond his years, for he was but a wee lad of 
 seven when, from a high eminence, he heark- 
 ened to the guns on Bunker Hill and watched 
 the flaming ruin of Charlestown. His favor- 
 ite amusement was to wander through the 
 woods, noting the habits of animals, and the na- 
 ture of plants; and we read of his setting him- 
 self " stints " of work and regretfully writing 
 28 
 
Four Little Yankees 
 
 to his father that he often finds his " thoughts 
 running after birds' eggs, play and trifles," and 
 gravely asking his advice as to how he shall 
 properly proportion his playtime and studies. 
 
 " What a little prig! " I think I hear some 
 boy reader exclaim. 
 
 Well, perhaps he was, from our twentieth- 
 century standpoint, but he was a little hero as 
 well when the Revolution broke out and his 
 father, who was in Congress, sent word to his 
 wife: " Fly to the woods with the children/' 
 — there now being two more small boys, 
 Thomas Boylston and Charles, in the Braintree 
 household. Mrs. Adams refused to fly, but all 
 the family was, as John Quincy himself says, 
 " liable every hour of the day and of the 
 night to be butchered in cold blood, or taken 
 and carried into Boston as hostages by any for- 
 aging or marauding detachment." At nine 
 years old, too, he was called upon not only to 
 be the man of the house, but to serve as post- 
 rider between the city and the farm, making 
 daily trips with the letter bags slung across his 
 saddlebows, although in constant danger of 
 capture. 
 
 Do you not think his childish heart must 
 sometimes have quailed? Not for a dozen 
 lives, though, would he have put to the blush 
 29 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 his patriotic mother, who kept up her spirits 
 amid all trials, made light of it when the red- 
 coats and buff-and-blues left them little to eat 
 except whortleberries and milk; and instructed 
 him to add to his nightly prayers Collins' ode, 
 commencing — 
 
 " How sleep the brave who sink to rest 
 By all their country's wishes blest! " 
 
 In the course of time, however, brighter and 
 more peaceful days dawned. The year 1778 
 found Mr. Adams appointed Commissioner to 
 France, when he took with him his eldest son and 
 from then on — broken only by a brief visit 
 home — young John Quincy spent nearly seven 
 years abroad. In the various cities of Europe 
 he picked up a pretty good, if desultory, educa- 
 tion, and must have made excellent use of his 
 opportunities, as we find him, at fourteen, hold- 
 ing the position of private secretary to Francis 
 Dana, our minister to Russia. He accompa- 
 nied that gentleman to St. Petersburg, where 
 familiarity with cultured society and constant 
 converse with men of affairs transformed the 
 home-bred little Puritan into a most remarkable 
 youth of sixteen, as attractive in person as in 
 mind, if we may judge from a pastel painted 
 at that age. It is thus described: 
 3° 
 
Four Little Yankees 
 
 " The head Is powdered, but a lock of the 
 dark hair is indistinctly seen falling down the 
 boy's back in a queue and tied with a black rib- 
 band. The complexion is a fine blonde, charm- 
 ingly accented by the dark eyes and irregular 
 arched eyebrows, while a slight cast in the left 
 eye, with a faint roguish smile that plays about 
 the mouth, add a certain piquancy, making the 
 face very pleasant to look at. The coat is of 
 pale blue silk with a jabot of lace." 
 
 During this schoolboy period, he began re- 
 cording his doings and impressions in a diary, 
 a thin paper book stitched into a brown paper 
 cover; and this he illustrated profusely with 
 rude drawings of soldiers, forts, and men-of- 
 war. This habit, too, he kept up nearly all 
 his life. 
 
 For a short time his next younger brother 
 joined him in Europe, but Thomas Boylston 
 Adams never appears to have been as strong as 
 John, and died in early manhood. He, also, 
 was a very studious youth, no doubt encouraged 
 to be so by his Spartan-like mother, who once 
 wrote of this frail, second son: 
 
 " He who dies with studying, dies in a good 
 cause, and may go to another world much bet- 
 ter calculated to improve his talents than if he 
 had died a blockhead." 
 3i 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 While the two elder boys were disporting 
 themselves abroad, Abigail and little Charley 
 were pursuing the quiet, uneventful tenor of 
 their existence in that part of their Massachu- 
 setts town which had been re-christened 
 " Quincy," in honor of Mrs. Adams' ancestors. 
 But finally Mr. Adams, finding his sojourn in 
 Europe was indefinitely prolonged, summoned 
 his wife and daughter to join him, and setting 
 sail in the ship Active, they crossed the Atlantic 
 in a little less than a month. 
 
 Abby must have felt like " Alice in Wonder- 
 land," when transplanted from the prim life of 
 a New England village to the brightness and 
 gaiety and sparkle of gay Paris, just in the 
 height of poor Marie Antoinette's happy-go- 
 lucky reign ! That it was fascinating goes with- 
 out saying, and how the girl must have loved 
 to wander in the beautiful garden, all rows of 
 orange trees and octangular flower-beds, with 
 stone statues peeping out from bosky haunts, 
 which surrounded their great airy house at Au- 
 teuil, a short distance from the city. 
 
 Now, for the first time, Miss Abby had a 
 maid to dress her hair, rode in a coach, and met 
 princes and other distinguished people whom 
 her parents entertained at dinner and receptions. 
 Verily, it was a winter ever to be remembered ! 
 32 
 
Four Little Yankees 
 
 And then Mr. Adams received another com- 
 mission — that of minister to Great Britain — 
 and Abigail and her mother were whisked off 
 to England, where the former was soon as 
 happy as in France, for what young maiden 
 would not be captivated by a London season, 
 going from rout to rout, as they were termed, 
 and a presentation at court! She was always, 
 however, a loyal little Yankee, and on all occa- 
 sions stood up for her native land, as the child 
 of an American Consul ought to do. 
 
 Perhaps some girls will be interested to know 
 what Miss Abby wore when she first appeared 
 at the Court of St. James and made her much 
 practised courtesy before King George, Queen 
 Charlotte and the Princess Royal; and Mrs. 
 Adams, who verily " wielded the pen of a ready 
 writer," was very explicit in informing a certain 
 Betsey and Lucy that — 
 
 " The train was of white crape and trimmed 
 with white ribbon. The petticoat, which is the 
 most showy part of the dress, covered and drawn 
 up on what are called festoons, with light 
 wreaths of beautiful flowers; the sleeves white 
 crape drawn over the silk, with a row of lace 
 round the sleeve near the shoulder, another 
 half-way down the arm, and a third upon the 
 top of the ruffle, a little flower stuck between; 
 33 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 a kind of hat-cap, with three large feathers and 
 a bunch of flowers; a wreath of flowers upon 
 the hair. Thus equipped, we go in our own 
 carriage, and Mr. Adams and Colonel Smith 
 in his." 
 
 This young Colonel Smith was the secretary 
 of the legation, and in the following year he 
 wooed and won pretty Abigail, making for her 
 a home in New York, although they spent much 
 time in travel. 
 
 John Quincy did not accompany his family 
 to England, but returned to America and en- 
 tered the junior class at Harvard, from which 
 college he was graduated and commenced the 
 practice of the law. But this bright young man 
 "was never destined for a private life and none 
 ever held more public offices, starting with min- 
 ister to the Netherlands — an honor to which 
 he was appointed on his twenty-seventh birthday 
 — step by step upward until he not only went 
 to the White House as the son of the President, 
 but as the President himself. 
 
 Gentle Charles, the youngest of the quartette, 
 appears to have been his mother's own boy, as a 
 child at Braintree, singing Scotch songs to cheer 
 her loneliness during the enforced separation 
 from her husband, and, in early manhood, being 
 her proud escort to the social affairs at which 
 34 
 
Four Little Yankees 
 
 she appeared as the wife of the Vice-Presi- 
 dent. 
 
 He married young and also died young, leav- 
 ing two orphan daughters — Susanna and Abi- 
 gail — the elder of whom was, probably, the 
 first bona-fide " girl of the White House," be- 
 ing taken there by her grandparents when only 
 a midget of four in a black frock, for it was in 
 the last year of John Adams' administration 
 that the seat of government was removed from 
 Philadelphia to Washington, and the presiden- 
 tial family took possession of the then bare and 
 only half-finished executive mansion. 
 
 A veritable madcap was little Susanna, with 
 plenty of spirit, and her cousins often made 
 merry over her half-comic, half-tragic fracas 
 with a certain little Ann Black. 
 
 It seems that the child's uncle, Thomas Boyls- 
 ton Adams, had presented her with a doll's tea- 
 set of which she was vastly proud, and Ann 
 was invited to drink " cambric-tea " poured 
 from the tiny tea-pot into fairy-like cups, and 
 eat cake off of the dainty plates. 
 
 It was a happy little " Five O'clock Tea," 
 and all went well until Susanna, being called 
 from the room, returned to find her guest fled 
 and her precious china in atoms on the floor. 
 Little Miss Black's feelings of envy had sud- 
 3S 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 denly overcome her, and she had given vent to 
 them with a vengeance. 
 
 Naturally, after this, the relations between 
 the friends were decidedly strained for some 
 time. Indeed, they remained so until Ann, be- 
 coming the possessor of a small doll that could 
 actually open and shut its eyes, was unable to 
 resist asking her former chum to spend the after- 
 noon and admire her treasure. Susanna went 
 and played quite amicably for awhile, but all 
 at once on the young hostess turning her back 
 — presto ! into her rosy mouth popped poor 
 Dolly's head and her sharp, white teeth met 
 through its waxen neck. Then, with a satisfied 
 " There! " she tossed the mutilated doll to its 
 agonized owner and walked off, feeling that 
 " revenge was certainly sweet." 
 
 Even when an old lady, Susanna would relate 
 this incident with the greatest gusto, always 
 concluding with, " And I never was sorry that I 
 bit that doll's head off." 
 
 For companions at the White House she 
 often had Mrs. Smith's little ones, especially the 
 eldest, who might well be termed " John the 
 third." 
 
 Master John Smith was left a great deal in 
 the charge of his grandmother, but often dis- 
 tressed that worthy lady by his aptness in pick- 
 36 
 
Four Little Yankees 
 
 ing up any new word or song he chanced to hear, 
 and by preferring " Jack and Jill," and " Little 
 Bopeep " to Doctor Watts' " Moral Songs for 
 Children." 
 
 This real boy seems to have been a great 
 favorite with President Washington, who, at a 
 dinner-party, once ruthlessly picked the sugar- 
 plums out of a cake to send to the lively young- 
 ster. His grandfather, too, he ruled with a 
 rod of iron, or rather a willow wand with which 
 he used to drive him about the house, insisting 
 on his being his " horse," and drawing him up 
 and down in a chair, the dignified statesman 
 condescending to this imperious little grandson 
 as he never did to children of his own. 
 
 37 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 A BAND OF YOUNG VIRGINIANS 
 
 LIKE unto Washington, Thomas Jeffer- 
 son, third President of the United 
 States, wooed and wedded a young and 
 beautiful widow, and one who, also, bore the 
 name of Martha. 
 
 They met at her father's fine place, " The 
 Forest," a few miles from Williamsburg, and 
 as Martha Wayles Skelton was a skilled per- 
 former on the spinet, while Thomas played the 
 violin, their courting was early set to music, 
 which, waxing louder and sweeter, culminated 
 in the divine harmony of an almost perfect mar- 
 ried life. 
 
 For ten years she was not only the states- 
 man's wife, but his comrade and helpmeet as 
 well, making for him an ideal home on lovely 
 Monticello Mountain, and there they hoped to 
 enjoy together a well-earned rest when all war 
 and political strife were at an end. 
 
 But this was not to be. 
 38 
 
A Band of Young Virginians 
 
 Suddenly the wife and mother was sum- 
 moned to a higher sphere, while the framer of 
 the Declaration of Independence only roused 
 from the swoon into which he had fallen as she 
 breathed her last, to gaze, with sorrow and des- 
 olation in his heart, at the three motherless 
 girls left in his sole charge. 
 
 Martha, who had just completed her first 
 decade; little Mary, with auburn hair like 
 his own, and Lucy, an infant only a few days 
 old. 
 
 Half crazed, he shut himself away from his 
 sympathizing friends, all alone, except for one 
 small comforter, who would not be denied — 
 the eldest of the little maids, whom he fondly 
 called " Patsy," and who, in after-years wrote 
 of this sad period: 
 
 " The violence of his emotion when, almost 
 by stealth, I entered his room at night, to this 
 day I dare not trust myself to describe. He 
 kept his room for three weeks, and I was never 
 a moment from his side." 
 
 It was this loving little woman who, at last, 
 lured him back from death or insanity, until 
 one day he tottered out onto the veranda of 
 Monticello and drank in the lovely view of 
 blue hills, waving green woods, and winding 
 river. Then, realizing that even in grief there 
 39 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 may be selfishness, he responded, for the first 
 time, to the childish caresses and said: 
 
 " Yes," we will live, daughter — live in mem- 
 ory of her! " 
 
 No wonder, then, that when two months 
 later, Mr. Jefferson was appointed Plenipoten- 
 tiary to Europe, there to be associated with Mr. 
 Adams and Dr. Franklin, in negotiating peace, 
 he felt that he could not be separated from his 
 beloved little comforter, who bore her mother's 
 name, and decided to take her with him, while 
 Mary or Polly, and baby Lucy were left in 
 the tender care of their aunt, Mrs. Eppes, who 
 had a large and interesting family of her own. 
 
 But, after all, on reaching Philadelphia, the 
 statesman found so much to occupy him in Con- 
 gress that their departure was delayed for more 
 than a year, and there was nothing to do but 
 place Martha in a boarding-school, where, un- 
 der the kindly tuition of excellent Mrs. Hop- 
 kinson, she made satisfactory progress in her 
 studies, but where her mind became greatly ex- 
 ercised over sundry superstitious fears that were 
 agitating the world at large at that time. 
 
 Writing these fears to her father, he thus 
 wisely replied: 
 
 " I hope you will have good sense enough to 
 disregard those foolish predictions that the 
 40 
 
A Band of Young Virginians 
 
 world is to be at an end soon. The Almighty 
 has never made known to anybody at what time 
 He created it, nor will He tell anybody when 
 He will put an end to it, if He ever means to 
 do so." He also gave her much good advice 
 as to neatness in dress. 
 
 At length, in 1784, the long-deferred voyage 
 to France was taken and, just about the same 
 time as Abigail Adams, Patsy, was landed in 
 the gay French metropolis; although being 
 younger than the New England girl, she was 
 not plunged into society but into the Abbage 
 Royal de Panthemont, such an aristocratic con- 
 vent school that no pupil was admitted without 
 the recommendation of a lady of rank. Mar- 
 tha Jefferson owed her introduction to a friend 
 of the Marquis de la Fayette, who became in- 
 terested in la petite Americaine; but a very sad 
 homesick child was she at first, unable to un- 
 derstand the language, petting the tame squirrel 
 given her as a consoler, and, when her father 
 came, welcoming him with tears of joy, and 
 then crying because he had to leave again. 
 
 But this was not for long. She soon learned 
 to chatter French with the best and, in a most 
 cheerful vein, described her life at Panthemont 
 to a friend in America. 
 
 " I was placed in a convent at my arrival, 
 4i 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 and I leave you to judge of my situation. I 
 did not speak a word of French, and no one here 
 knew English but a little girl ten years old that 
 could hardly speak French. There are about 
 fifty or sixty pensioners in the house, so that 
 speaking as much as I could with them, I 
 learnt the language very soon. At present I 
 am charmed with my situation. The classe is 
 four rooms, exceedingly large, for the pension- 
 ers to sleep in, and there is a fifth and sixth — 
 one for them to stay in the day and the other 
 in which to take their lessons in. 
 
 " We wear the uniform, which is crimson, 
 made like a frock, laced behind, with the tail, 
 like a robe de cour, hooked on ; muslin cuffs and 
 tuckers. The masters are all very good, except 
 that for the drawing." 
 
 Here, then, Patsy passed several happy years, 
 forming life-long friendships with an English 
 " Julia " and " Betty," and the French Made- 
 moiselle de Botedoux and Mademoiselle de 
 Chateaubrun, who called her " Jeff," and " Jef- 
 fie." The story is told, too, that when she had 
 been there about a twelvemonth, the high-born 
 dame who had spoken for her the " good 
 word," came to the Abbage, somewhat curious 
 to see how the shy little American had devel- 
 oped. At the hour of her arrival the pupils 
 42 
 
A Band of Young Virginians 
 
 were all at play in the garden and she sat 
 down by a window to watch them. Among 
 them she particularly noted a tall, aristocratic- 
 looking, though hardly pretty girl, and turning 
 to the nun beside her asked — " Who is that? " 
 The sister looked at the lady in surprise. 
 " Why, Madame," she replied, " that is your 
 protegee, Mademoiselle Jefferson." 
 
 At this the lady smiled with satisfaction. 
 "Ah, indeed!" she exclaimed, "she has a 
 very distinguished air." 
 
 Thus we see that her life at the convent 
 had given her just the confidence and self-reli- 
 ance she needed. 
 
 Meanwhile, far away in the Blue Ridge home, 
 little Lucy, the precocious baby of two and 
 a half, who early developed such an ear for 
 music that she would listen spellbound when 
 anyone played and cry if a false note was struck, 
 was seized with whooping cough and died at the 
 same time as a tiny namesake cousin. 
 
 A whole generation afterward a long golden 
 curl, clipped from this child's sunny head, was 
 found among Mr. Jefferson's private treasures, 
 and it was probably this bereavement that 
 awoke in his heart the desire to have his now 
 youngest daughter near him, for he wrote to 
 Mrs. Eppes that " Dear little Polly hung upon 
 43 
 
Boys and Girls of the Wh ite House 
 
 his mind night and day," and directed that she 
 be sent to join him and her sister. 
 
 Now, this was not at all pleasing to Miss 
 Mary, who was devotedly attached to her Vir- 
 ginia home and relatives, especially one boy 
 cousin, and exceedingly pleading letters were 
 sent across seas begging " Papa " to let her stay 
 with " Aunt Eppes and Cousin Jacky." 
 
 But Mr. Jefferson was obdurate and finally 
 " the little lady," as he called her, was gotten 
 off by strategy. 
 
 She and her cousins were taken, ostensibly, to 
 visit a ship lying at anchor and allowed to romp 
 until Polly, worn out, dropped down and fell 
 asleep. When she awoke, all familiar faces had 
 disappeared except that of her black attendant; 
 the vessel was out at sea and she en route for 
 England, her young heart nearly broken by such 
 treatment on the part of those she loved best. 
 
 But children's tears are soon dried and she 
 was most kindly received by Mrs. John Adams 
 and Miss Abby, who kept her at their home in 
 London until they could find for her a proper 
 escort to Paris. 
 
 In her famous letters, too, the former thus 
 describes her young guest: " I have had with 
 me a little daughter of Mr. Jefferson's, who ar- 
 rived here with a young negro girl, her servant, 
 44 
 
A Band of Young Virginians 
 
 from Virginia. ... A finer child of her 
 age I never saw. She is not eight years old. 
 She would sit sometimes and describe to me the 
 parting with her aunt, and the love she had for 
 her little cousins till the tears would stream 
 down her cheeks, and how I had been her 
 friend and she loved me. She clung round me 
 so that I could not help shedding a tear at part- 
 ing with her. She was the favorite with every- 
 one in the house." 
 
 The little French folk, too, took to her at 
 once, calling her " Mademoiselle Po-lie " and 
 " Marie," while her father and sister did all in 
 their power to make her happy and feel at home 
 with them, although when they first saw each 
 other, Mr. Jefferson declared " she neither knew 
 us nor should we have known her had we met 
 with her unexpectedly." 
 
 She was not so studious as Martha, nor was 
 her sojourn at the convent a long one, for im- 
 pressionable Patsy, who was supposed to be a 
 staunch little Episcopalian, suddenly astounded 
 her father by informing him that she wished to 
 take the veil and become a nun, having been 
 largely influenced to this by the Abbe Edge- 
 worth de Fermont, the priest who some years 
 after was to accompany the unfortunate Louis 
 the Sixteenth, as his confessor, to the guillotine. 
 45 
 
Boys and Girls of the W hite House 
 
 Two days later Mr. Jefferson drove to Pan- 
 themont. Patsy met him trembling, but he only 
 greeted her with more than wonted cordiality. 
 He, however, requested an interview with the 
 Abbess, and at its close, informed his daughters 
 that he had come to take them both away, 
 which was done immediately. Thus Martha's 
 school career came to an abrupt conclusion and 
 she was at once introduced to Parisian society, 
 without her fancy for the cloister even being 
 mentioned. 
 
 Years after, she spoke with gratitude of her 
 parent's judicious course on this occasion, for 
 her desire was not a deep religious conviction, 
 but one of those transient emotions to which 
 romantic girls are ever subject. 
 
 For some months she shone as the brightest 
 ornament of the minister's salon, and had lots 
 of good times, being allowed to go to three 
 balls a week, but never to a fourth, no matter 
 how " tempting " that fourth might be. She 
 met dozens of interesting people, was compli- 
 mented on her dancing by the Duke de Fronsac 
 — afterward the Duke de Richelieu — always 
 had a pleasant, merry word from La Fayette, 
 and listened with enthusiastic admiration to Ma- 
 dame de Stael's wonderful conversation, while 
 for one evening, at least, she with other ladies 
 46 
 
A Band of Young Virginians 
 
 sported the French tricolor upon her ball gown, 
 at a country dance, the cockade having been 
 pinned there by a French officer. 
 
 Of course Patsy had her admirers among 
 these foreigners and several efforts were made 
 to keep her on that side of the Atlantic, but, 
 like all Southern girls, she had a " cousin " 
 tucked away in the warmest corner of her heart, 
 and when she and her father were surprised 
 one evening by a call from " Second-Cousin " 
 Thomas Randolph, fresh from the University 
 at Edinburgh, all Frenchmen paled beside the 
 tall, athletic young American. 
 
 But the murmurings of the Revolution were 
 now waxing louder and fiercer, and in the au- 
 tumn of 1789 Mr. Jefferson thought it best 
 to take his family back to the United States. 
 After several narrow escapes from fire and 
 from water, Monticello was reached in safety 
 and the slaves welcomed them with extravagant 
 joy, unharnessing the horses and dragging the 
 carriage themselves to their own door. 
 
 " God bress you ! " 
 
 " Jest look at de chilluns ! " 
 
 "Ain't our Miss Patsy tall?" 
 
 " See our dear little Polly, bress her heart ! " 
 
 These were some of the exclamations heard 
 as the distinguished-looking girl of seventeen 
 47 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 and the beautiful child of eleven passed through 
 the lines of kindly, dusky faces, making them 
 feel that, after all, there was no place like " Ole 
 Virginny." 
 
 Then the very February after their home- 
 coming there was a wedding on the Blue Ridge 
 plantation and Thomas Mann Randolph, with 
 Martha as his bride, settled down on " Little 
 Mountain," nigh to the dear old home. Polly, 
 or Maria as she came to be called, lived with 
 them until her father carried her off to be his 
 housekeeper in Philadelphia, while the states- 
 man was never so busy he could not find time to 
 write his " dear girls," delightful letters full of 
 birds and flowers and questions to the younger 
 as to whether she " sees the sun rise every day? 
 how many pages she reads in Don Quixote? 
 whether she can make a pudding or cut a beef- 
 steak? and if she can set a hen? " 
 
 But at fourteen, we find " Mademoiselle Po- 
 lie " leading an ideal existence " under the 
 trees," in the quaint Quaker town, for Mr. Jef- 
 ferson assured an acquaintance that they never 
 went " into the house but at the hour of bed." 
 They breakfasted, dined, wrote, read and held 
 receptions on the grass under the plane trees, 
 while Nellie Custis was one of her bosom friends 
 and doubtless that favorite " Cousin Jacky " 
 48 
 
A Band of Young Virginians 
 
 often dropped in for a bit of love-making in 
 the pleasant, secluded garden, for a few years 
 later pretty Polly wedded her first love and it 
 was as Mrs. John Eppes that she assisted Pres- 
 ident Jefferson, when, in 1801, he was sent to 
 the barren, draughty White House at Wash- 
 ington. 
 
 At this time Maria is described as being 
 " supremely beautiful," her glorious crown of 
 auburn hair ever lingering in the memories of 
 those who saw her, while her character was as 
 lovely as her face. Once, while she was lying 
 ill, Mr. Jefferson wrote her — " You have never 
 by word or deed given me a moment's uneasi- 
 ness. On the contrary, I have felt a perpetual 
 gratitude to Heaven for having given me in 
 you a source of so much pure and unmixed hap- 
 piness. Go on, then, my dear, as you have 
 done, deserving the love of everybody." 
 
 But alas ! she was very frail, and during her 
 father's administration, sweet Polly Jefferson 
 Eppes faded away, leaving one tiny son named 
 Francis. 
 
 That the President long and deeply mourned 
 this fair, young daughter, cut off in the heyday 
 of her womanhood, no one can doubt, but he 
 was greatly consoled by the bevy of grandchil- 
 dren growing up around him and brightening 
 49 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 by their presence both homes — at Washington 
 and Monticello. 
 
 Cornelia, Virginia and Mary Randolph were 
 veritable girls of the White House, romping 
 and playing in its wide corridors and often run- 
 ning exciting races with " Grandpa " as umpire, 
 ready to reward the victor with three figs or 
 three dates. 
 
 There was fair-haired Anne the eldest, of 
 whom in her babyhood Mr. Jefferson declared 
 " even Socrates might ride on a stick with her 
 without being ridiculous " ; there was Thomas 
 Jefferson, the " heavy-seeming " small boy who 
 was the very apple of the good gentleman's eye, 
 and later the " staff of his old age," and there 
 was Ellen, the brightest of little scholars, who 
 became a most intelligent and delightful 
 woman, and married Mr. Coolidge, of Boston. 
 
 To the second boy, James Madison, fell the 
 honor of being the first baby born in the White 
 House, and he soon had as companions Ben- 
 jamin, the practical and energetic, and hand- 
 some, winning Lewis, who was afterward a 
 most brilliant lawyer. One girl did not live to 
 grow up, and naughty, merry little Septima was 
 so-called because she was the seventh daughter, 
 while the dozen was rounded off by George, the 
 50 
 
A Band of Young Virginians 
 
 gallant sailor laddie, whose affection for his 
 mother was the " passion " of his life. 
 
 In all the young Randolphs, Mr. Jefferson 
 tried to encourage a love of gardening by giv- 
 ing them flower bulbs and plants upon which he 
 had bestowed comic and historic names. In 
 the spring, then, it was no uncommon sound 
 to hear a shout of " Oh, Grandpa ! come and 
 see! Marcus Aurelius has his head out of the 
 ground! " or " The Queen of the Amazons is 
 popping up." He also inculcated the truest 
 courtesy to high and low, and once gravely 
 reproved his favorite grandson, when that 
 young man failed to return the respectful salu- 
 tation of a negro, by asking: "Thomas, do 
 you permit a slave to be more of a gentleman 
 than yourself? " 
 
 His granddaughters simply adored him, one 
 declaring, " I cannot describe the feelings of 
 veneration, admiration and love that existed in 
 my heart toward him." While another (El- 
 len) says: 
 
 " My Bible came from him, my Shakespeare, 
 my first writing-table, my handsome writing- 
 desk, my first Leghorn hat, my first silk dress. 
 What, in short, of all my treasures did not come 
 from him? My sisters were equally provided 
 5i 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 for. Our grandfather used to read our hearts, 
 to see our individual wishes, to be our good 
 genius, to wave the fairy wand, to brighten our 
 young lives by his goodness and his gifts." 
 
 Mrs. Martha Randolph had her hands full 
 with her large family and her convivial, spend- 
 thrift husband, although he was an able poli- 
 tician and, at one time, Governor of Virginia. 
 She could not, therefore, share the " Jeffer- 
 sonian simplicity " and the French dinners at the 
 White House as often as she wished, and her 
 place was frequently filled there by Mrs. Madi- 
 son and her young sister, Miss Payne, of whom 
 we shall know more hereafter. 
 
 On two occasions, however, she made long 
 visits there, and the second time, her eldest 
 daughter, Anne, was thought old enough to be 
 introduced to society. For the first time, then, 
 the young lady went to a large ball en grande 
 toilette, well escorted and chaperoned. 
 
 A funny little incident, too, marked the even- 
 ing. 
 
 Mrs. Randolph, who was extremely near- 
 sighted and who had never seen her daughter, 
 except in simple, girlish costumes, was filled 
 with admiration when a tall, blonde maiden en- 
 tered the room. 
 
 " Who is that beautiful young woman? " she 
 52 
 
A Band of Young Virginians 
 
 inquired of Mrs. Cutts, who was seated beside 
 her. 
 
 The young matron answered with a laugh. 
 "Heavens! woman!" she exclaimed, "don't 
 you know your own child? " 
 
 There were many others, also, who admired 
 the fair debutante and she married quite young 
 a Mr. Blankhead, who, however, did not make 
 her the best of husbands. 
 
 Mistress Patsy had her trials, but she was an 
 ideal wife and mother, and Bacon — the over- 
 seer at Monticello — says of her: "She was 
 the best woman I ever knew. Few such 
 women ever lived. I never saw her equal." 
 So the ex-President, his sole surviving child and 
 his beloved grandchildren were very happy to- 
 gether on the little mountain, after his retire- 
 ment from office. 
 
 It is sad, then, to remember that reverses 
 came to such a united family, so that Jefferson's 
 valuable and highly-prized library had to be 
 sarificed, even before that Fourth of July, 1826 
 — just fifty years after the signing of the Dec- 
 laration, which set us free — when its author 
 passed away at almost exactly the same hour as 
 his life-long friend and co-laborer on the famous 
 document, John Adams. 
 
 Monticello, being too expensive to keep up, 
 53 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 was soon after exchanged for a modest brick 
 house in Charlottesville, and Mrs. Randolph 
 and her two unmarried daughters were only 
 saved from supporting themselves by teaching, 
 through the generosity of Louisiana and North 
 Carolina, each of which bestowed upon them 
 ten thousand dollars. 
 
 As for that model grandson, Thomas Jeffer- 
 son Randolph, he bravely assumed all the debts 
 left by his grandfather, which the sale of the 
 plantation would not cover, although it handi- 
 capped him for life, while his home, Edgehill 
 was always open to his mother, sisters and 
 brothers. 
 
 It was in visiting among her children then, 
 that Patsy's last days were passed, while to 
 them she wrote: " My life is a mere shadow 
 as regards myself. In you alone I live and am 
 attached to it. The useless pleasures which 
 still strew my path with flowers — my love for 
 plants and books — would be utterly heartless 
 and dull, but from the happiness I derive from 
 my affections; these make life still dear to me." 
 
 54 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE " PRINCE OF AMERICA " AND THE PAYNE 
 GIRLS 
 
 ONE May morning, nearly a hundred 
 and fifty years ago, in an old North 
 Carolina homestead, a little Quaker 
 baby first opened her blue eyes upon a world in 
 which she was destined to become a very attrac- 
 tive figure; and to pass down into history as 
 one of the most popular of all the ladies of the 
 White House. 
 
 Winsome Dorothy Payne was born at the 
 residence of an aunt, but the greater part of her 
 childhood was passed at Scotchtown, her fa- 
 ther's plantation in Virginia, where she was 
 trained in the rigid simplicity of the Society of 
 Friends, to which her parents belonged. 
 
 But, although plainness of both dress and 
 speech was strongly advocated in the household, 
 Mrs. Payne was curiously anxious to preserve 
 her little daughter's lovely complexion and the 
 pretty damsel was obliged to set off each day 
 SS 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 for the old Hanover County field-school, with 
 a white linen mask covering her face, a sun- 
 bonnet sewed upon her head and long gloves 
 protecting her hands and arms — a costume 
 which must have been a veritable martyrdom to 
 an active child. 
 
 She would, doubtless, have far rather ap- 
 peared in the pieces of old-fashioned jewelry, 
 secretly bestowed upon her by a fond grand- 
 mother, but which she only dared to wear, hid- 
 den in a tiny bag, and hung around her neck, 
 beneath the demure kerchief, since her father 
 and mother condemned all such things as 
 " worldly baubles," declaring that a girl's sole 
 ornament should be that of " a meek and quiet 
 spirit." 
 
 When, then, after a ramble in the woods, one 
 fine summer day, chain, bag and finery were all 
 found to be missing, she felt it to be a just 
 retribution for her sins of vanity and secretive- 
 ness, and almost wept her eyes out on the faith- 
 ful black breast of " Mother Amy," her dear, 
 old Southern " Mammy," the only one to whom 
 she ventured to confess her wickedness and the 
 loss of her treasures. 
 
 A most devoted servant was this same black 
 Amy, and when John Payne — being convinced 
 of the evil of slavery — freed his negroes and 
 
 56 
 
The " Prince of America" 
 
 moved to Philadelphia, she, with a few others, 
 begged piteously to remain with " Ole Massa 
 and the chillens." This was finally permitted, 
 only on condition that she accept remuneration 
 for her services, and, as she frugally laid away 
 most of her wages, at her death she bequeathed 
 five hundred dollars to her beloved mistress. 
 
 It was a vast change from the isolated Vir- 
 ginia homestead, to life in a big city, but the 
 Payne girls — of whom there were several — 
 thoroughly enjoyed the tea-drinkings, sleigh 
 rides and other simple amusements that were 
 considered seemly for young Quaker folk. 
 One, however, I am sure, often longed for the 
 pomps and vanities of the " world's people," 
 for, at nineteen, Dolly was as beautiful a girl 
 as could be found in all Pennsylvania, while 
 the gray garb only served to set off her dazzling 
 pink and white complexion, her eyes " as blue 
 as the fairy flax," and her wealth of glossy 
 black tresses. Her pleasant, laughing expres- 
 sion, too, was but the outward and visible sign 
 of a remarkably amiable disposition, combined 
 with a touch of the witty Irish humor, for 
 which her second cousin, Patrick Henry, was 
 so famous. 
 
 No wonder that the young lawyer, John 
 Todd, fell a victim to her charms and, although 
 57 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 she at first said him " nay," declaring she never 
 meant to marry, continued his addresses until 
 at last — perhaps urged by her father — she 
 consented, and there was a notable, if quiet, 
 ceremony in the Friends' Meeting-House, 
 when, like Bayard Taylor's " Quaker bride," 
 
 " Her wedding gown was ashen silk, 
 Too simple for her taste; 
 She wanted lace about the neck, 
 And a ribbon at her waist." 
 
 But alas ! short, though sweet, was their mar- 
 ried bliss, for ere long that terrible scourge, yel- 
 low fever, snatched away the youthful husband, 
 as well as their younger child, a baby of a few 
 weeks; and pretty Dolly came back from the 
 very jaws of Death, to find herself a widow 
 at twenty-two, with a large fortune and one 
 dark-eyed boy to care for and to love. 
 
 About this time, there chanced to be in Phila- 
 delphia town, an extremely courtly, distin- 
 guished gentleman, who was looked upon as " a 
 confirmed old bachelor." So, too, he might 
 have remained had he not, one day, caught a 
 glimpse of the young Quakeress on the street. 
 He was attracted at once and hastening to Mr. 
 Aaron Burr — who had lodgings at the home 
 of Mrs. Payne, Dorothy's mother — begged 
 S3 
 
The " Prince of America" 
 
 that he would take him to call on the " charm- 
 ing Widow Todd." 
 
 Mr. Burr willingly consented and the states- 
 man was immediately captivated by the demure 
 little figure, in mulberry-hued satin, tulle ker- 
 chief and dainty cap, who received them; the 
 result being that, shortly after, Mrs. Washing- 
 ton summoned the young woman to the Presi- 
 dential mansion and bluntly asked her: 
 
 " Dolly, is it true that you are engaged to 
 James Madison? " 
 
 Blushing and stammering, Dolly said she 
 thought not. 
 
 " For if it is so," urged the august dame, 
 " do not be ashamed to confess it. Rather be 
 proud. He will make you a good husband, and 
 all the better for being so much older." 
 
 That the seventeen years' difference in their 
 age was not an insuperable objection, goes with- 
 out saying, since in the following September a 
 merry party set forth on a two-hundred mile 
 journey, in carriages and on horseback, the 
 " great, little Madison," as he was called, gal- 
 lantly riding beside an open barouche contain- 
 ing the blooming Quakeress, a blonde girl of 
 twelve, and a little boy of three prattling and 
 capering in his nurse's arms. 
 
 Their destination was the Southern planta- 
 59 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 tion of Mr. Steptoe Washington — Dorothy's 
 brother-in-law — and there a jolly country wed- 
 ding was celebrated, this time according to the 
 rites of the Church of England, which gave 
 small Payne Todd a truly kind and considerate 
 stepfather, who ever treated him like an own 
 son. 
 
 Such a merrymaking as that was! the gay 
 girls cutting bits of Mechlin lace from Mr. 
 Madison's shirt-ruffles, as mementos; and send- 
 ing the bride and groom off in a perfect bliz- 
 zard of rice, en route for Montpellier (the 
 Madisons always spelled it with two l's), the 
 latter's fine estate in the Blue Ridge country, 
 where, " within a squirrel's jump of Heaven," 
 they chiefly made their home, except when 
 called away by affairs of state. 
 
 Such a dear, happy home as it was, too, not 
 only for little Payne, but also for Dolly's 
 young sister, Anna, who lived with her, and 
 whom she looked upon as an adopted child. 
 
 Gay as larks, then, were the two children, 
 romping over a glorious playground of three 
 thousand acres, where roses, jasmine and other 
 blooming things fairly ran riot; where grapes 
 seemed bursting with luscious richness, and 
 peach and plum trees bowed beneath their 
 weight of fruit; while, on rainy days, the grand 
 60 
 
The " Prince of America" 
 
 hall and great porticoes of the house were just 
 the places in which to play at dolls, or marbles, 
 or tag, or hop-scotch; the blithe little mother 
 often coming to join in a frolic, or bid them to 
 lessons that were a mere pretense. 
 
 On occasions, too, they paid ceremonial vis- 
 its to another inmate of the mansion — 
 "Grandma Madison," as Payne called her — 
 a very old and stately lady, verging on a hun- 
 dred, whose apartments in the " old wing," 
 were filled with ancient and beautiful things, 
 and whose terraced garden was the pride and 
 delight of Beasey, the clever French gardener. 
 
 This " Madam Placid " made a great pet of 
 the handsome little lad, and would tell him 
 long stories of his stepfather's youthful pranks 
 at Princeton, and try to interest him in historic 
 events that she could recall, and in his Cousin 
 Patrick Henry's illustrious speech, when he 
 cried, " Give me liberty or give me death " ! 
 
 But Payne did not care for serious talk, and, 
 when it commenced, would soon wander off 
 to the negro quarters to listen to their songs 
 and curious folk-lore tales. Nevertheless, he 
 later became a remarkable French scholar, 
 speaking that language almost better than his 
 native tongue when placed at a Roman Catholic 
 school in Baltimore. 
 
 61 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 A most unworthy son of good old Quaker 
 stock was Dolly Madison's only child, always 
 showing himself weak and wilful, and, though 
 he had an attractive face and much of his 
 mother's charm of manner, both were early de- 
 stroyed by dissipation, while he soon became a 
 sad spendthrift and wasted his fortune in " riot- 
 ous living." 
 
 Anna Payne divided her time between Phila- 
 delphia and Montpellier, and at fourteen ap- 
 peared quite like a young lady, with her hair 
 combed over her ears and done up in a knot on 
 top of her head, while she dressed in the ex- 
 treme fashion of the day, about which there 
 was not a suspicion of Quakerism. 
 
 She was a sprightly correspondent, a sympa- 
 thetic talker and extremely fond of society and 
 dancing; so she had a host of friends. 
 
 Her portrait was painted by the celebrated 
 artist, Gilbert Stuart, and is still in the pos- 
 session of her descendants. One day, during 
 a sitting for this picture, she remarked that it 
 was a pity he (the painter) never portrayed 
 himself for the benefit of others; on which he 
 replied that he would do so on the canvas of 
 her portrait, and proceeded to make the drapery 
 into a grotesque likeness of his profile, with a 
 62 
 
The " Prince of America" 
 
 most exaggerated nose; and there it remains to 
 the present time. 
 
 As mentioned before, when Mrs. Madison 
 entered the White House as its mistress, it was 
 by no means as a novice, for both she and Miss 
 Anna were a great deal there during the Jeffer- 
 son administration, being warm friends of Mrs. 
 Randolph and her family. Mr. Madison was 
 then Secretary of State, and the President fre- 
 quently sent for the ladies of his household to 
 assist him at dinners and receptions, as well as 
 in executing commissions for the daughter and 
 granddaughters at Monticello. 
 
 But in 1804 the young matron writes: 
 
 " One of the greatest griefs of my life has 
 come to me in the parting for the first time from 
 my sister-child." 
 
 For it was in that year that fair Anna wedded 
 Richard Cutts, a member of Congress from 
 Maine, and it was as a wife and mother that 
 she thereafter visited Washington, often bring- 
 ing her little ones to see their aunt when she be- 
 came " the first lady in the land." 
 
 The spring wedding was a very smart af- 
 fair, and presents poured in upon the bride, con- 
 spicuous among them being two wine-coolers 
 from Madam Dashcoff, the wife of the Russian 
 63 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 minister — one being filled with salt, " the es- 
 sence of life," and the other with bread, " the 
 staff of life," this being the national marriage- 
 gift of the donor's country. 
 
 The simple muslin cap was the only trace of 
 the sober Friends' garb, now retained by gay, 
 lively Dorothea Madison, and this she also dis- 
 carded, as unfitting, when her husband was in- 
 augurated in 1809, replacing it with a turban, 
 a headdress that she continued to wear the rest 
 of her life. 
 
 Never, too, had a President a better help- 
 meet, even his bitterest enemies (and he had 
 many) succumbing on the spot did the gracious 
 woman but offer them her snuffbox, with her 
 sunny, winning smile. 
 
 During their regime, the White House was 
 noted for its whole-souled hospitality and the 
 humblest guest was at once set at ease with 
 the most graceful courtesy. For instance, at 
 one of the levees there appeared a rustic youth, 
 who was evidently suffering all the torments of 
 embarrassment. He stood around, overcome 
 with confusion, but at last ventured to help him- 
 self to a cup of coffee. Just then Mrs. Madi- 
 son walked up and addressed him. In his sur- 
 prise, the young man dropped the saucer and 
 strove to crowd the cup into his pocket. But 
 64 
 
The " Prince of America" 
 
 his tactful hostess took no notice of the acci- 
 dent, except to observe that in such a crowd no 
 one could avoid being jostled, and straightway 
 turned the conversation to the lad's family, and 
 ended by sending her regards to his excellent 
 mother and bidding the servant bring another 
 cup of coffee. 
 
 The slaves, too, fairly adored her and at 
 Montpellier there was always a flock of small 
 darkies at her heels, eager for a word of notice 
 and the " sweetie " which never failed them. 
 
 Strange, then, that the sorest trouble of her 
 life should have been her son Payne, handsome 
 and high-bred though he was. It was the fond 
 desire of Mr. and Mrs. Madison that he should 
 complete his education at Princeton; but when 
 the youth came to the White House from his 
 Baltimore university, he showed himself so un- 
 willing that the project was given up. The 
 President, then — fearing to expose the boy to 
 the temptations surrounding one of his station 
 at the capital — despatched him with an em- 
 bassy to Europe. To this young Todd was also 
 somewhat loth, but his reluctance was changed 
 to proud delight when he found he was looked 
 upon abroad as the " Prince of America," and 
 we hear of his dancing with Russian princesses 
 within the sacred space reserved for royalty, 
 65 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 while such men as Henry Clay and John Quincy 
 Adams looked on from the more plebeian gal- 
 lery. 
 
 Possessing a fortune in his own right, he 
 made the most of his position, tasting all the 
 pleasures the Old World could offer, the ele- 
 gant Count D'Orsay being one of his boon com- 
 panions; but he sadly neglected writing to his 
 devoted mother and she had to depend upon 
 others for news of her son. 
 
 Meanwhile, the war of 1812 was raging in 
 the United States. The British pushed their 
 way to Washington and burned the Capitol and 
 White House, and Dolly Madison was forced 
 to flee, but not until she had seen General Wash- 
 ington's portrait cut from its frame and con- 
 veyed to a place of safety. So suddenly did all 
 this happen that the viands and wines for a 
 dinner-party to be given at the Executive Man- 
 sion that same afternoon were discovered by 
 the English officers and actually demolished; 
 while the journals opposed to Madison made 
 very merry over his wife's hasty departure, put- 
 ting in her mouth this parody of John Gilpin, 
 which she is supposed to address to her hus- 
 band:- 
 
 " Sister Cutts and Cutts and I 
 And Cutts' children three 
 66 
 
The "Prince of America" 
 
 Will fill the coach, — and you must ride 
 On horseback after we." 
 
 The White House being in ruins, the remain- 
 der of the Madison administration was spent in 
 a very elegant and commodious residence be- 
 longing to Colonel Tayloe, and known as " The 
 Octagon." It is still standing and is endeared 
 to the popular heart by the rumor of being 
 " haunted." But in the " Peace Winter " of 
 1815, it was haunted only by the throng of fair 
 women and distinguished men who flocked 
 around the fourth President and his winsome 
 lady, while, amid these fluctuating times, Mis- 
 tress Dorothy's young nieces, Mary and Dolly 
 Cutts, were the comfort of her heart, rather 
 than the absent son, whose extravagance made 
 ruinous inroads upon her inheritance, as well as 
 his own. 
 
 James Madison was, also, extremely fond of 
 these small maids, and a caller was, one day, 
 highly amused at finding the great man wearing 
 a bead ring, which one of the wee girlies had 
 strung and shipped upon his finger. 
 
 They were always welcome guests, both at 
 Washington and Montpellier, as well as their 
 brothers, Madison and Richard, the host look- 
 ing upon all four as grandchildren, and young 
 
 67 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 people were invited from far and near to meet 
 them. 
 
 But, delightful as the little Cutts found the 
 Virginia estate, it was not so with Payne, who, 
 even after his return to America, seemed to pre- 
 fer any other spot, until Mrs. Madison wrote 
 him, reproachfully: 
 
 " I am ashamed to tell, when asked, how 
 long my only child has been absent from the 
 home of his mother." 
 
 She urged him to marry, and he did once fall 
 honestly in love with a Miss Ann Cole, a Wil- 
 liamsburg belle, who was, however, hard- 
 hearted or far-sighted enough to decline his suit. 
 Lucky was it, too, for her, as, though popular 
 in society, he was a most worthless, dissipated 
 young man, indolent, and ever calling upon his 
 stepfather for more funds, until even Mont- 
 pellier and the negroes were sacrificed to pay his 
 debts. Part of the money, however, was sunk 
 in an eccentric structure, which he built and 
 named " Toddsbirth," and in a futile attempt to 
 start a silk farm. 
 
 Developing into a gourmand, he grew ex- 
 ceedingly stout, losing all his good looks and 
 elegance, and finally died of typhoid fever, two 
 years after his disappointed mother passed 
 68 
 
The t( Prince of America" 
 
 away, with the words, " My poor boy! " upon 
 her lips. 
 
 A relative writes of this degenerate son of the 
 White House: 
 
 " As for my cousin, Payne Todd, my childish 
 memories of him do not bear repeating. His 
 manners were perfectly Grandisonian, but I was 
 a little afraid of him. Do not ask me why." 
 
 So sweet Mistress Dolly's closing days would 
 have been desolate, indeed, but for another 
 Anna Payne, the child of a brother in Kentucky, 
 whom she adopted late in life. This young girl 
 was her constant companion after the death of 
 Mr. Madison, in 1836, and a veritable sun- 
 beam in the home which she made at Wash- 
 ington, on Lafayette Square, within a stone's 
 throw of the White House. 
 
 A prankish little creature was Anna the Sec- 
 ond, and up to all sorts of mischief. Thus, one 
 first of April, she invited the one who was then 
 President to dine, without mentioning the fact 
 to her aunt; and when that worthy lady was 
 horrified by the unexpected arrival of so illus- 
 trious a guest, flew in and laughingly informed 
 them both it was only an " April fool." 
 
 But she sobered down with years and the con- 
 stant struggle to keep up appearances on an ex- 
 69 
 
Boys and Girls or the White House 
 
 tremely limited income; was confirmed in old 
 St. John's, at the same time as Mary Cutts and 
 Mrs. Madison — who had long been an Epis- 
 copalian at heart — and became the gentlest of 
 nurses to her adopted mother. 
 
 Truly, too, did she prove the hospitable lady's 
 " right hand " on such holidays as the Fourth 
 of July and New Year's Day, when Mistress 
 Dolly's doors were always open, and few who 
 came to pay their respects to the Head of the 
 Nation in the White House, failed to step across 
 the square and offer greetings to the popular 
 " dowager." Her levees were ever thronged, 
 and a New York merchant, who visited her in 
 March, 1842, made this record in his journal: 
 
 " She is a young lady of four-score years and 
 upward. Goes to parties and receives company 
 like the Queen of this new world." 
 
 The drawing up of her will was, almost, the 
 closing act in the career of this remarkable 
 woman, who, as it were, " entered Washington 
 society on the arm of Jefferson and left it on the 
 arm of Polk," her public life, meanwhile, hav- 
 ing spanned nearly half a century and covered 
 the administrations of nine Presidents. She di- 
 vided her small property equally between her 
 " dear son, John Payne Todd," and her 
 <l adopted daughter, Annie Payne " ; and the last 
 70 
 
The " Prince of America" 
 
 dastardly, though futile deed of the former, was 
 an attempt to break this will and deprive the de- 
 voted niece of her little inheritance. 
 
 One who intimately knew this bright maiden, 
 afterward the wife of Dr. Causten, has said of 
 her, — 
 
 " Anna Payne was not handsome, her fea- 
 tures being irregular; but her devotion to Mrs. 
 Madison entitles her to the best rewards of 
 Heaven. She was one of the few purely un- 
 selfish persons whom one may met in a life- 
 time." 
 
 Could higher praise be bestowed upon the 
 youngest and last of the pleasant Payne girls ! 
 
 71 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 THE ARISTOCRATIC MONROES 
 
 JUST as the eighteenth century was draw- 
 ing to a close, there was established at St. 
 Germains, not many leagues from Paris, 
 one of the most remarkable schools that France 
 has probably ever known. 
 
 Its founder and head was Madame Campan, 
 an aristocrat of the aristocrats, who had lived 
 at court from early girlhood, been the confi- 
 dante of monarchs, and would willingly have 
 gone to the prison and the scaffold with her 
 royal mistress, the lovely and unfortunate Marie 
 Antoinette. 
 
 But this last was not to be her fate, and, the 
 Reign of Terror leaving her penniless, she was 
 forced to turn her talents to account and take 
 up teaching — for which she had always had a 
 penchant — in the seminary, where children 
 born to the purple and those of humble paren- 
 tage met on an equal footing, and were con- 
 72 
 
The Aristocratic Monroes 
 
 ducted, side by side, up the steep, rugged hill of 
 learning. 
 
 Among the pupils at this celebrated pension 
 there was, at one time, a young American girl, 
 a pretty, gipsy-like little maid, with soft, dark 
 eyes, black, glossy hair, and the roses of her 
 native Virginia blooming in her cheeks. 
 
 This was Eliza Monroe, the seven-year-old 
 daughter of James Monroe, then Minister to 
 France, and his beautiful wife, who, as Miss 
 Kortwright, had been a Tory belle of old New 
 York, and who was known abroad as la belle 
 Americaine. 
 
 Small Eliza made many friends during her 
 rather lengthy sojourn among the vivacious 
 French girls, — two of them being Madame 
 Campan's nieces, the Mesdemoiselles Anguie, 
 whose mother had committed suicide in order to 
 escape the guillotine. Not far away, too, at a 
 boys' school, was her cousin Joseph and a young 
 friend named Rutledge, both of whom had been 
 placed under the envoy's paternal care, and in 
 whom he took a deep interest. 
 
 But dearest of all to her was a lassie some 
 
 years older than herself — interesting Hor- 
 
 tense, the daughter of Josephine de Beauharnais, 
 
 who was pursuing her education at St. Germains, 
 
 73 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 together with the youthful brothers and sisters 
 of Napoleon, and who was destined, one day, 
 to become the Queen of Holland. 
 
 Indeed, this famous seminary was full of un- 
 fledged sovereigns, so that, in later life, Ma- 
 dame Campan laughingly declared to an old 
 pupil: 
 
 " I was the instructress of a nest of kings and 
 queens without ever dreaming of such a thing, 
 and the best thing you can do is to forget your 
 titles when with me, for I can never be afraid 
 of queens whom I have held under the rod." 
 
 Not that the rod was often called into requi- 
 sition other than figuratively, for a small book, 
 in which was recorded a tally of " good points " 
 and " bad points," and a system of good and 
 bad tickets, was generally sufficient to keep the 
 most unruly in order. 
 
 One good point effaced two bad ones, but 
 did any pupil receive twelve black tickets her 
 punishment was to dine alone at what was 
 termed the " Wooden Table," because it had no 
 cloth, with her offense inscribed in large letters 
 on a framed pasteboard before her, — a meal 
 which usually proved a fast, passed in floods of 
 tears, so terribly did the girls dread this dis- 
 grace. 
 
 But the wise instructress knew the value of 
 74 
 
The Aristocratic Monroes 
 
 prizes, as well as of discipline, and these were 
 bestowed with a lavish hand wherever merited. 
 
 The most coveted was that given for superior 
 character, although it was only a simple arti- 
 ficial rose to be worn on Sundays and holidays. 
 This was awarded by vote in each class ever}' 
 three months, and the proud rose-pupils were 
 the following day treated to a particularly nice 
 breakfast by their kind teacher, while it was 
 their privilege to walk first in all processions and 
 to strew flowers at the festivals held in the pri- 
 vate chapel. 
 
 Was any scholar, too, so lucky, or so amiable, 
 as to win a rose in every class throughout her 
 school-course, at its close she received the Rose 
 of Roses, presented in a vase of porcelain, with 
 the date upon it in golden numbers. Truly a 
 scholastic honor to be striven for, and, when 
 gained, to be treasured through life! 
 
 How many roses of honor fell to the share of 
 Mademoiselle Elise, as she was called, history, 
 saith not, but it is certain she and Hortense were 
 very happy together, wandering through the 
 grand old forest of St. Germains; taking their 
 turns at saying " grace " in the quaint little din- 
 ing-room pulpit; and learning to sew and cook 
 and clean and mend lace, as well as to play and 
 draw, and recite long extracts from the dramas 
 75 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 of Racine and Madame de Genlis. They, too, 
 no doubt took their parts in the representations 
 of " Esther " and other plays, to which Bona- 
 parte came, on the invitation of his stepdaugh- 
 ter, and which were enacted in the hall of exer- 
 cises, beneath the inscription, " Talents are the 
 ornament of the rich, and the wealth of the 
 poor." 
 
 For, Madame Campan, grande dame though 
 she was, believed in preparing her young charges 
 for all the changes and chances that so often be- 
 fall one in this fickle world, although she trained 
 them " to avoid making domestic details the 
 subject of conversation in the drawing-room, for 
 that is a most decided mark of ill-breeding. It 
 is proper for all to know how to do and direct, 
 but it is only for ill-educated women to talk 
 about their carriages, servants, washing and 
 cooking." 
 
 Until a well-grown maiden of " sweet six- 
 teen," Eliza was the sole child of the Monroes' 
 hearth and home; but then another little girl 
 came to share their affections. She was chris- 
 tened Maria, and, as a mite of four, astonished 
 the good people of Virginia, when taken back 
 there arrayed in the latest French fashion, with 
 long pantalettes down to her ankles. 
 
 This younger daughter was a girl of four- 
 
 76 
 
The Aristocratic Monroes 
 
 teen when her father was elected President and 
 the family moved to the new White House, 
 which was completed just in time for them. 
 To her, too, fell the honor of being the first 
 bride to be wedded in the great East Room, 
 where, at seventeen, she gave her heart and 
 hand to her cousin, Samuel Gouverneur. 
 
 Mrs. Monroe was somewhat of an invalid, 
 so the burden of social duties at the Executive 
 Mansion fell largely to Eliza, who, long ere 
 this, had developed from the demure little 
 school girl into the extremely elegant and ac- 
 complished Mrs. George Hay, the wife of a 
 Virginia judge. 
 
 She was equal to the occasion, but it must be 
 conceded that she was a rather haughty young 
 woman and carried things with a pretty high 
 hand. Perhaps her European education had 
 unfitted her for life in a republic; but, however 
 that may be, the Monroe ladies all won the 
 name of being very exclusive; refused to return 
 visits, and gave sore offense to the families of 
 Senators and Representatives accustomed to the 
 genial courtesy of winsome Queen Dolly and 
 " Little Jim Madison." 
 
 Magnificent as the presidential dinners were, 
 graced by the richest of silver plate; and cheery 
 as were the vast rooms, brightened by open fires 
 77 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 of blazing hickory logs, questions of " prece- 
 dent " caused many a heart-burning and were 
 resented even by those who deeply admired the 
 tall, rugged head of the nation in his old style, 
 small clothes, silk hose and knee buckles, and 
 whose frank, open expression showed him truly 
 worthy of Jefferson's encomium — " Monroe is 
 so honest that if you turned his soul inside out, 
 there would not be a spot on it." 
 
 Mrs. Hay received in great state and was 
 regal-looking in her robe of crimson velvet 
 with nodding white plumes in her hair, while 
 by her side frequently appeared her beautiful 
 little daughter, Hortensia, named for the dear 
 friend of her youth who was also the child's 
 godmother, and who early heard reminiscences 
 of her royal sponsor. 
 
 Nor did the Queen of Holland forget her 
 American namesake, for she sent her several 
 valuable gifts, among them being a picture of 
 herself, one of her brother Eugene de Beau- 
 harnais, and one of Madame Campan, while 
 she cordially wrote to her old schoolmate: 
 
 " You ought to have received our portraits 
 for your daughter — our goddaughter. Al- 
 though I have never received your letter on this 
 subject, yet I take the right that you have given 
 me over her and send you a little chain of the 
 
The Aristocratic Monroes 
 
 country where I live, and which I pray you 
 to make her wear as a souvenir of me." 
 
 These mementos, together with a miniature 
 of Mrs. Monroe painted while she was in Paris, 
 have been carefully preserved by a Baltimore 
 family and there is also reason to believe that 
 the royal lady of Holland remembered her 
 American namesake in her last will. 
 
 So handsome Hortensia Hay became early 
 accustomed to formal and state occasions in 
 her distinguished grandfather's house and was 
 merely a graceful slip of a maiden when she 
 helped her elegant mother welcome and enter- 
 tain General Lafayette at Oak Hill, their fine 
 Virginia home. 
 
 She, however, grew up a sadly willful girl, 
 and married sorely against her parents' wishes, 
 becoming the second wife of Lord Rogers of 
 Baltimore, with whom she was most unhappy. 
 
 But through all these years of joy and sorrow, 
 Eliza's heart ever reverted with longing and 
 affection to la belle France, where so much of 
 her blithe, careless girlhood had been spent, un- 
 til, finding herself widowed and childless, she 
 determined to end her days on the other side 
 of the Atlantic, which she did, dwelling for a 
 number of years in Paris, and being finally 
 buried in Pere-la-Chaise. 
 79 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 Maria was very different from her sister, 
 and, doubtless, a more congenial companion to 
 Mr. Monroe, whose doctrine was always 
 " America for Americans." 
 
 She found her happiness in her native land, 
 surrounded by her children and grandchildren; 
 and one descendant of our fifth President, who 
 bears his name, remembers the devoted 
 " grandma," with whom, as a tiny chap, he 
 made delightful pilgrimages to Mrs. Clitz's 
 toy-shop in Washington, there to purchase fasci- 
 nating playthings; and who was the "Lady 
 Bountiful " of Oak Hill, dispensing her charity 
 to the poor, for miles around. 
 
 The Gouverneurs' own home, however, was 
 in New York and there Mr. Monroe spent 
 much time with them, after the loss of his wife. 
 There, too, he passed away, like so many of 
 his predecessors, on the Fourth of July, in 
 1831. 
 
 Many years after, the loyal sons of the Old 
 Dominion removed his body to Richmond in or- 
 der that it might lie in the soil of his native 
 state. In that Southern clime, likewise, in a 
 grave on the Oak Hill estate, ever kept green 
 by masses of luxuriant myrtle, now peacefully 
 sleeps the first bride of the White House and 
 the youngest of the aristocratic Monroes. 
 80 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE COSMOPOLITAN ADAMS FAMILY 
 
 NO man ever had a more cosmopolitan 
 family than Mr. John Quincy Adams, 
 the precocious Braintree boy, of whom 
 we have heard before as the son of our second 
 President, and who served his country in so 
 many foreign lands. 
 
 His delicate, intellectual wife, Miss Louisa 
 Catherine Johnson, though of American par- 
 entage, was born in England and passed the 
 greater part of her girlhood in France. She 
 met the young diplomat while her father was 
 United States Consul in London, and their chil- 
 dren could claim to represent three countries 
 by the right of birth. 
 
 There was the small German, George Wash- 
 ington, the first-born, who came to delight the 
 parents' hearts at Berlin ; the two little Yankees, 
 John and Charles Francis, who first saw the 
 light in " good old Boston towne," and the 
 baby Russian, the only daughter, named for her 
 81 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 mother, who opened her eyes for one brief 
 twelve-month in St. Petersburg, and then closed 
 them forever, fading into a mere sweet mem- 
 ory, left among the ice and snow in the realm 
 of the Imperial Czar. 
 
 Oh, that exile in Russia! For so Mrs. 
 Adams ever considered it and sorely she chafed 
 at the separation from her two eldest sons left, 
 with their grandparents, on this side of the 
 ocean. It was probably the dreariest time of 
 her whole life, although her husband held the 
 proud position of first minister to that most au- 
 gust of courts, was treated with distinguished 
 kindness by the Emperor and his courtiers, and 
 their life was a brilliant round of balls, fetes, 
 dinners, court presentations, launches, displays 
 of fireworks, birthday festivities, parades, bap- 
 tisms, plays, state funerals, illuminations, and 
 Te Deums for victory; in short, every species of 
 social gayety and public pageant, all of which 
 Mr. Adams carefully recorded in his volumi- 
 nous diary. 
 
 She had, however, for her comfort and com- 
 panion during these six years Charles Francis, a 
 baby of two when he went abroad, but who 
 blossomed into an extremely handsome and ac- 
 complished little lad with the linguistic talent of 
 a veritable Russian, being able to chatter in 
 82 
 
The Cosmopolitan Adams Family 
 
 French and German as well as in the tongue ot 
 the country where he lived, while he could re- 
 peat from memory all of Addison's version of 
 the nineteenth and twenty-third Psalms. He 
 was, though, inclined to be rather shy and quiet, 
 even when taken to the palace, where he was 
 a great pet, and was made much of by the Em- 
 press and grand duchesses. 
 
 Charles was the only one of the brothers 
 who knew the infant sister, Louisa Catherine, 
 while he was his mother's sole escort — besides 
 servants — when in the spring of 1815 she 
 made a perilous journey across what might be 
 called the battlefield of Europe, for war was 
 everywhere, and traces of carnage on all sides. 
 
 Often the boy of seven shivered with fear 
 as they drove through dense forests echoing 
 with the cries of wild beasts, floundered in 
 snowdrifts, and listened to grim predictions of 
 future trouble, while the scenes in the streets 
 of Paris on the night after Napoleon's return 
 from Elba were stamped indelibly upon his 
 childish mind. But at length London was 
 reached in safety and there came a joyful re- 
 union of the whole family. 
 
 In the meantime, while Charles was learning 
 to be a little courtier, George and John were 
 leading healthy, active, out-door lives on their 
 83 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 grandfather's farm at Quincy, and there they 
 had as companions two bright young girl cous- 
 ins — the orphan daughters of the uncle for 
 whom their younger brother was named. One 
 was Abigail Adams the third, and the other the 
 high-spirited Susanna who once had the fracas 
 with little Ann Black and was a very small 
 " White House girl " when John Adams was 
 President. 
 
 They were a gay quartette, wandering over 
 Penn Hill, running, when hungry, to the 
 " cookie bag " that grandma always kept hang- 
 ing at the head of the cellar stairs; celebrating 
 with enthusiastic patriotism the Fourth of July, 
 which was also John's birthday; and in the Holi- 
 days watching eagerly for a queer old pen- 
 sioner who always came at that season and 
 whom they dubbed " Father Christmas," al- 
 though he carried away a gift instead of bring- 
 ing one. That, however, was probably because 
 he bore a staff bedecked with brightly-polished 
 apples and sang them a quaint little song: 
 
 " I wish you a merry Christmas 
 And a happy New Year, 
 A pocket full of money and a 
 Cellar full of beer." 
 
 But even in childhood an eternity of six years 
 84 
 
The Cosmopolitan Adams Family 
 
 eventually comes to an end, and at last a letter 
 arrived which summoned the boys to join their 
 parents in London, and they bade a long " fare- 
 well " to the kind grandfather and grand- 
 mother, the merry cousins, and the pleasant 
 New England farm. 
 
 Mr. John Quincy Adams had then been trans- 
 ferred to the Court of St. James, so the trio of 
 reunited brothers went to English schools, had 
 interesting glimpses of high life and heard a 
 vast deal of talk about court etiquette and court 
 cards and clothes, and had many a hearty repub- 
 lican laugh, too, over what they considered " ab- 
 surd nonsense." 
 
 But when a certain royal princess was mar- 
 ried they were treated to some of the wedding 
 cake and found it very good, and John, at least, 
 always remembered the time he went to see the 
 grand show on the occasion of the Queen's birth- 
 day drawing-room. The state coach was so 
 magnificent, with its eight cream-colored horses 
 and golden harness adorned with blue ribbon 
 bows, while it was so gloriously exciting when 
 the rude populace hissed the prince regent and 
 pelted his carriage with stones and mud. 
 
 I wonder if they were not a bit sorry when 
 Mr. Adams was recalled to Washington and 
 appointed by Monroe Secretary of State (an of- 
 85 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 fice which has so often proved a stepping-stone 
 to the Presidency), for the Federal city was at 
 that time anything but an agreeable place of 
 abode. 
 
 As a well-known writer says: " What must 
 European diplomats have thought of a capital 
 city where snakes two feet long invaded gentle- 
 men's drawing-rooms and a carriage, bringing 
 home the guests from a ball, could be upset by 
 the impenetrable depth of quagmire at the very 
 door of a foreign minister's residence." 
 
 Society, too, was almost as stupid as the 
 streets, though gambling ran shamefully high in 
 certain sets. To enliven things the Adamses 
 gave weekly parties, and Monsieur De Neuville 
 entertained at grand dinners when he mystified 
 the plain Yankees by serving " turkeys without 
 bones, puddings in the form of fowls, fresh cod 
 disguised as a salad, and celery like oysters." 
 This French Minister also shocked the New 
 England ladies by having dancing on Saturday 
 nights, which they had been taught to consider 
 " holy time." 
 
 Still the boys must have rejoiced when their 
 
 father was elected President, and, perhaps, they 
 
 were in the old Quincy church on that Sabbath 
 
 morning when the horse's hoofs clattering 
 
 86 
 
The Cosmopolitan Adams Family 
 
 through the streets brought the congregation to 
 its feet crying out " What is the matter? " 
 
 In these days of telegraphs and telephones it 
 is hard to realize how long it took news to 
 travel in those bygone times, and relays of 
 horses and riders were hired to carry word of 
 Mr. Adams' victory from Washington to his 
 home town, where they arrived on Sunday. An 
 old resident of Boston thus recalls the event as 
 it was told to him in his youth. 
 
 " The courier bringing the news of Mr. 
 Adams' election had urged his horse with so 
 much speed that the sweat and foam were roll- 
 ing off the horse's back, and the courier arrived 
 at the old church door and hurried up the steps 
 and then down the broad aisle and shouted in 
 stentorian tones, ' John Quincy Adams is elected 
 President of the United States.' Prayer and 
 praise were discontinued, and congratulations 
 were offered to one another that the good town 
 of Quincy had been honored by having another 
 President of the United States, and among the 
 number who heard the report of the courier, 
 and whose heart was brimful of joy, was the 
 venerable John Adams, ex-President and father 
 of John Quincy Adams. Mr. John Adams was 
 89 years old, and his heart was full of joy to 
 87 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 think that his little son, now grown to man's 
 estate, yes, ' little Johnny,' was elected Presi- 
 dent." 
 
 The Adams lads, however, were away from 
 home a great deal at this period, each going, in 
 turn, to Harvard, although George was the only 
 one who made much of a mark there. He was 
 truly a gifted youth, eloquent, a student of 
 Shakespeare and something of a poet as well. 
 On completing his college course he studied law 
 with Daniel Webster and represented Boston 
 in the State Legislature. 
 
 It was a sad pity that a young man of so 
 much promise should have fallen a victim to 
 intemperate habits. He was lost overboard 
 from a steamboat, his career being cut short at 
 the early age of twenty-eight. 
 
 This catastrophe did not occur, however, until 
 after the close of his father's administration, 
 and George was frequently drawn to the White 
 House, not only by filial affection, but by the 
 magnet of a pair of bright eyes belonging to a 
 certain pretty cousin, Mary Hellen, who was 
 there to assist her aunt in the duties of her ex- 
 alted position. 
 
 But the maiden fair smiled not upon brilliant 
 George, but upon his handsomer though more 
 hot-tempered brother John, who was Mr. 
 
The Cosmopolitan Adams Family 
 
 Adams' secretary, and one winter night there 
 was a small, old-fashioned wedding in the Blue 
 Room, when they " passed the cake through 
 the ring " and cut generous plummy slices for 
 all the guests. 
 
 Bookish, taciturn Charles Francis was now 
 the young man of the house, having just left 
 his alma mater, and, after all, he was the 
 one who made the deepest impression upon 
 his day and generation, and is best remembered 
 as an author and statesman, while he went as 
 Minister to Great Britain during the war of 
 the Rebellion. Wedding a lady of wealth, 
 he passed his summers at the old Quincy home- 
 stead, where he collected mementos of his dis- 
 tinguished family and which is now preserved as 
 a historic landmark dear to all loyal Americans. 
 
 Altogether, the White House under Quincy 
 Adams was a very homelike, cheerful place witn 
 wooings and weddings, christenings and social 
 gatherings and was especially so after the ad- 
 vent of Mr. and Mrs. John's infant daughter, 
 Mary Louise. 
 
 Such a winsome little creature as she was! 
 and what a grand evening baptism she had when 
 the most noted men of the day came to bow 
 low before her small ladyship, and her stately 
 godfather, General Stephen Van Renssalaer, 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 " the last of the Patroons," brought an exquisite 
 set of Cupid cameos to lay at her chubby, dim- 
 pled feet. 
 
 " Looly," as they fondly called the cherished 
 baby, was the jolliest of children, playing with 
 " Sally," a big rag doll, manufactured by her 
 great-aunt, Mrs. Thomas Adams; lisping 
 Mother Goose's Melodies and dancing " Jim 
 Crow," in the pleasant room fitted up as a 
 nursery, which was now the most attractive spot 
 in the great, rambling mansion. She was her 
 grandfather's darling, for cold and austere as 
 John Quincy Adams was generally considered, 
 he is said to have been most affectionate in his 
 family relations. He it was who taught the 
 wee maid her alphabet and delighted to have 
 her read to him out of the Bible, ever his fa- 
 vorite book, and in which he made it a practice 
 to peruse three chapters every day. 
 
 The President liked, too, to have other rela- 
 tives with him and among those who often vis- 
 ited him was his niece, Susanna, the lively mad 
 cap of the Quincy farm, now a blithe young 
 widow. When a girl in her teens, she went, 
 with her grandmother, to a ball in Boston, and, 
 being in light mourning, wore a short, black 
 satin frock, black silk stockings and black satin 
 slippers. To the dance came, likewise, several 
 90 
 
The Cosmopolitan Adams Family 
 
 officers from a United States man-of-war, lying 
 at anchor in the harbor, and, among them a 
 youthful Marylander, who was an utter stran- 
 ger. 
 
 " Whom would you like to be presented to? " 
 someone asked him. 
 
 " That is the prettiest foot here," he replied, 
 glancing around the ball-room and selecting 
 Miss Susan's black satin slippers which, straight- 
 way, tripped, Cinderella-wise, into his heart; for 
 the Southern lieutenant became her husband and 
 she Mrs. Clark. 
 
 She was a bright, witty young widow, though, 
 when her uncle was in the White House, and 
 had a little Susy of her own, while in later life, 
 she married again and became very well known 
 as Mrs. Treadway. 
 
 Other nieces and nephews also flocked around 
 the great man and it was two of these who 
 hastened, with Madam Adams, to his side when, 
 after fifteen years of hard Congressional work, 
 he died, as he had lived, in his country's service. 
 
 Stricken down at his post, he passed away 
 beneath the dome of the Capitol, his final words 
 being, "This is the last of earth! I am con- 
 tent!" 
 
 Borne back to the place of his birth, he lies 
 buried " under the portal of the church at 
 9i 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 Quincy," while, with him and his gentle wife 
 ended the statesmen and ladies of the Revolu- 
 tion, leaving two Adams boys to hand down 
 their illustrious name. 
 
 92 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 INDIAN LINCOYER AND THE MERRY ANDREWS 
 
 WAS there ever a stranger and more va- 
 ried career than that of the hero of 
 New Orleans and our seventh Presi- 
 dent — quick-tempered, kind-hearted Andrew 
 Jackson, a man without fear if not altogether 
 without reproach! 
 
 The son of a Scotch-Irish emigrant, born in 
 the backwoods after his father's death, running 
 barefooted about Waxhaw and learning the 
 " three R's " from his hard-working mother, 
 and, later, at an old-field school in the pine 
 woods, being taken prisoner at fourteen and 
 boldly refusing to black a British officer's boots, 
 teaching a few pupils, studying law, fighting 
 duels as well as Indians, and leading the army 
 to victory against a foreign foe — his whole 
 progress from log-cabin to White House reads 
 like a boy's serial story, replete with adventure. 
 During the Revolution many skirmishing 
 parties invaded the Carolinas, and one vacation- 
 93 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 time Andrew and his brother Robert attached 
 themselves as supernumeraries, to Major Da-. 
 vie's Dragoons. Probably they only helped with 
 the horses and performed small chores, but they 
 were present at the famous little battle of Hang- 
 ing Rock and then had their first taste of war, 
 while they also assisted their mother in caring 
 for the wounded in an improvised hospital in a 
 church. 
 
 Later, in a hot struggle at Waxhaw, when 
 their cousin's house was pillaged and his wife 
 and children cruelly treated, the Jackson boys, 
 with others, were taken prisoners. 
 
 It was at this time that a British officer or- 
 dered Andrew to black his boots. Indignantly 
 the lad refused, declaring that he was a prisoner 
 of war and should be treated as such. 
 
 " Insolent young coxcomb! " we can imagine 
 the Tory crying, and, lifting his saber, he struck 
 him such bloody blows over head and arms that 
 the youth bore the scars to his grave. Failing 
 with Andrew, the red coat turned to his 
 brother with the same haughty command and 
 received the same defiant answer, at which he 
 punished him, too, and both boys were hurried 
 off to a stockade prison at Camden, where they 
 contracted smallpox, of which Robert died, and 
 Andrew just escaped with his life. 
 94 
 
Indian Lincoyer 
 
 Also losing his mother, who likewise fell a 
 martyr to the cause, the lonely young orphan 
 wandered across the mountains to Tennessee and 
 there, for a time, took up the more peaceful 
 battles of the law- 
 While a law student, though, he seemed en- 
 grossed by sports rather than books, for as a 
 contemporary said : " Andrew Jackson was 
 the most roaring, rollicking, game-cocking, 
 horse-racing, card-playing, mischievous fellow 
 that ever lived in Salisbury," while many a 
 prank was traced to his door. In the course of 
 time, too, he returned to his early love of war- 
 fare during the Indian uprisings and conflict of 
 1812. But whatever he was to men, to women 
 he was always charming from the sincere and 
 chivalrous respect he felt for all the sex; al- 
 though the one romance of his life was his 
 courtship and marriage with sprightly black- 
 eyed Rachel Donelson, the divorced wife of a 
 certain unworthy Captain Robards, who proved 
 a true and devoted helpmeet to the valiant Gen- 
 eral and made a real home of the " Hermit- 
 age," their two-story log house in Tennessee, 
 where rich and poor were always welcome, do- 
 ing much to gain for her husband the title of 
 " The Prince of Hospitality." 
 
 Having no family of his own, Mr. Jackson 
 95 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 was ever ready to open his heart and home to 
 all relatives of his wife and into them one day 
 crept a three-days-old infant — one of twin 
 boys born to Rachel's brother — and so speedily 
 did this child win his baby-way that he adopted 
 him for his own, gave him his name, and, in 
 time, made him the heir to all he possessed. 
 
 Free and happy as a squirrel of the wild 
 woods, then, small Andy grew up on the se- 
 cluded plantation, and one of the old soldier's 
 staff liked to tell of a visit he once paid at the 
 Hermitage. 
 
 It was a cold, rainy evening in early spring 
 when he rode up to the door and he was wont to 
 say: 
 
 " I came upon General Jackson in the twi- 
 light, sitting alone before the fire, a lamb and 
 a child between his knees. Seeing me he called 
 a servant to remove the two innocents to another 
 room and said that the child had cried because 
 the lamb was out in the cold and begged him to 
 bring it in, which he had done to please the 
 child — his adopted son, then not two years 
 old." 
 
 This was truly characteristic of the man who 
 
 was ready to share his last morsel of food — a 
 
 handful of acorns — with a starving comrade; 
 
 who walked five hundred miles, from Natchez 
 
 96 
 
Indian Lincoyer 
 
 to Nashville, in order that his sick soldiers 
 might ride, thus being declared " tough as 
 hickory," and earning his title of " Old Hick- 
 ory," and who rescued a miserable Indian pa- 
 poose and brought it up beneath the shelter of 
 his own roof. 
 
 This last incident occurred shortly after some 
 cruel outrages of the red men had set the whole 
 southwestern country agog, and they were even 
 planning an attack upon Mobile. General 
 Jackson's troops, however, were sent to put them 
 down and a fierce encounter took place at the 
 Indian village of Talluschatches, where many 
 savages were slain and captured. 
 
 After the battle, a Creek squaw, struck down 
 by a stray bullet, was found dead, while on her 
 bosom nestled a live infant, vainly endeavoring 
 to procure its natural sustenance. This poor, 
 brown waif was borne into camp, but not one 
 of the captive women could be induced to nour- 
 ish it. 
 
 " No," said they gloomily, " all his relations 
 are dead; kill him too." 
 
 But not so thought the commander-in-chief, 
 and, taking the little fellow to his tent, he kept 
 him alive on brown sugar and water until he 
 could be sent to the city of Nashville for better 
 care. There, then, he remained until the end 
 97 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 of the campaign, being nursed at the General's 
 expense, while later his benefactor carried him 
 home with him to the Hermitage. 
 
 Mrs. Jackson received the baby red-skin cor- 
 dially; he was christened Lincoyer and grew up 
 a pet in the household, receiving the same edu- 
 cation as the planters' sons in the neighborhood. 
 So you see there was no lack of young life on 
 the Tennessee plantation, while, soon after, an- 
 other namesake of Old Hickory's, Andy Don- 
 elson, also came there to live, and can you not 
 imagine what jolly times the two merry An- 
 drews and their nut-brown companion must have 
 had together, hunting and fishing, swimming in 
 the streams, climbing the fruit trees and waxing 
 hale and hearty on the proverbial hog and hom- 
 iny! 
 
 The good-humored house-mother watched 
 over and beamed upon them as though they 
 had been her very own trio of sons, and often, 
 too, there was a pretty little auburn-haired girl 
 cousin at the Hermitage, winning all hearts by 
 her sweet smile and gentle ways, and to one at 
 least of the boys becoming his beau ideal of per- 
 fect maidenhood. 
 
 " Lovely Emily " was what everyone called 
 Captain John Donelson's youngest daughter, 
 even when she was only a little schoolgirl going 
 98 
 
Indian Lincoyer 
 
 to the old Academy in Nashville, and she was 
 but a lass of sixteen when she married her kins- 
 man, Andrew Donelson, the third Hermitage 
 boy, who later became private secretary at the 
 White House. 
 
 As for Lincoyer, he developed into a finely- 
 formed youth, full of promise and the joy and 
 pride of the General, who was extremely fond 
 of him. At the proper age he was allowed to 
 choose a trade and selected that of harness-mak- 
 ing, to which he was apprenticed. But it did 
 not agree with the forest-born orphan, and be- 
 fore he reached his seventeenth year he fell a 
 victim to that dread enemy of his race, con- 
 sumption, and though carefully nursed by kind 
 Aunt Rachel, pined away and was laid to rest 
 beneath the shades of his foster home. 
 
 But there were many happy years ere these 
 changes came to pass, to say naught of that 
 dreadful Christmastide when the father was 
 away defending New Orleans against a besieg- 
 ing British foe. How eagerly and anxiously 
 they must have waited and looked for news un- 
 til word came of the glorious victory of Jan- 
 uary 8th, 1 8 15, and of the honors showered 
 upon the gallant commander, who was hailed 
 as the liberator of the Crescent City! How, 
 too, their young hearts must have swelled with 
 99 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 pride when told of their adopted parent, the 
 hero of the hour, being escorted to the cathedral 
 by children, strewing flowers and chanting an 
 ode in his praise, and of the bishop crowning 
 him with a chaplet of laurel. 
 
 I fancy, too, that little seven-year-old Andrew 
 Jackson, Jr., fairly capered with delight when 
 informed that he was to go with his mother to 
 New Orleans, and that he ever remembered the 
 distinguished attentions there paid them — be- 
 ing too young to have the memory marred by 
 the fact that the General and his backwoods 
 wife rather shocked the society of the Southern 
 metropolis by dancing a breakdown at a public 
 ball. They were both rough diamonds, but 
 true gems, well worth the polishing, and Mr. 
 Jackson was devoted to his " bonnie brown 
 wife," never missing an opportunity of show- 
 ing that he considered her the perfection of her 
 sex and the most delightful woman in the whole 
 world. 
 
 Indeed, this man, who was sometimes so iras- 
 cible and almost savage, was never even impa- 
 tient with wife, children or servants. He dearly 
 loved his home and " The visitor," says a con- 
 temporary, " could often see the General seated 
 in his rocking-chair, with a chubby boy wedged 
 ioo 
 
Indian Lincoyer 
 
 in on each side of him and a third perhaps in his 
 lap, while he was trying to read the newspa- 
 per." Yet this was the man who, in Boston, 
 used to be held up to young folks as an ogre 
 to frighten them into obedience. In a letter 
 preserved by Fiske, was written in after-years, 
 " It has been pleasant to revise many of my 
 ideas and opinions; for my youthful memory 
 goes back to the days when Jackson was like 
 a bogy to frighten naughty children ! Boston 
 was a place of one idea then." 
 
 But time flies fast even in the secluded rural 
 corner of Tennessee, where, after the war, Old 
 Hickory built a fine new Hermitage, replacing 
 the old log house by a commodious mansion of 
 brick, adorned with Corinthian pillars, and with 
 the hall hung with scenes from Telemachus. 
 Before, too, one realized it, the boys had shot 
 up into men, and a Western paper was suggest- 
 ing the hero of New Orleans as a candidate for 
 the Presidency. 
 
 At first people considered this a joke — the 
 tall, lank, sandy-haired frontiersman was so dif- 
 ferent from the courtly gentlemen who had held 
 the position, that he was not their ideal for the 
 head of the nation. Indeed, he laughed at the 
 idea himself, saying: 
 
 IOI 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 " No, no! They may send me out to fight 
 the Indians, but I shall never do for a Presi- 
 dent." 
 
 Nevertheless, the hint took root and spread 
 until it ended in his nomination and election. 
 
 Mrs. Jackson was not over-pleased, and she 
 was never happy afterward. The calumnies 
 heaped upon her husband during the campaign 
 
 — calumnies in which she, owing to some irreg- 
 ularity in their marriage, was unfortunately 
 mixed up — sunk deep into her sensitive heart 
 already weakened by disease and she died be- 
 tween the election and inauguration. 
 
 Jackson felt this most keenly and was furious 
 against the newspapers which had maligned 
 them both. Shortly after the funeral, while 
 arranging some flowers on her grave, he sud- 
 henly clasped his hands and turning to his 
 adopted son, young Andrew Jackson, and others 
 who stood by, declared: "She was murdered 
 
 — murdered by slanderers that pierced her 
 heart. May God Almighty forgive her mur- 
 derers, as I know she forgave them. I never 
 can." 
 
 He never did, and it was a very sad and truly 
 bereaved man who finally entered the Executive 
 Mansion. 
 
 But for Emily and Andrew, the new Chief 
 102 
 
Indian Lincoyer 
 
 Magistrate would now have been desolate in- 
 deed. The former, as wife of the private sec- 
 retary, did all she could to fill her aunt's place, 
 while the adopted son brought a Philadelphia 
 bride to share with his charming cousin the cares 
 and pleasures of the White House. 
 
 The President always called young Mrs. 
 Donelson " my daughter," and deferred to her 
 in all matters of etiquette, saying: 
 
 " You know best, my dear. Do as you 
 please." 
 
 A most pleasing and gracious hostess, too, the 
 Nashville girl proved, and one who is said to 
 have curiously resembled Mary, Queen of 
 Scots. On one occasion a foreign minister re- 
 marked to her in some surprise: "Madam, 
 you dance with the grace of a Parisian. I can 
 hardly realize you were educated in Tennes- 
 see." To which she responded with spirit: 
 " Count, you forget that grace is a cosmopolite, 
 and, like a wild flower, is much oftener found in 
 the woods than in the streets of a city." 
 
 Her four children were all born in the White 
 House. Of course there was an Andrew 
 named for his illustrious great-uncle, a small 
 John and two bonny girlies, and again, there 
 were grand christenings in the great East Room, 
 with its French furniture, crowned by the 
 103 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 American eagle. The President, himself, stood 
 for two of them, Mr. Van Buren for a third, 
 and General Polk for the youngest. 
 
 Fairly idolized, too, were these little folks by 
 the hero of New Orleans, who took the deepest 
 interest in all that concerned them. When, too, 
 the corner stone of the Treasury Building was 
 laid and he was asked for a souvenir to deposit 
 beneath it, he called for a pair of shears and, 
 clipping a cluster of curls from the sunny pate 
 of the, then, " White House baby," gave that to 
 the messenger, with the order that it be placed 
 in the corner-stone box as the " presidential 
 memento." 
 
 Does it not seem strange, then, that many 
 years after, in the very structure beneath which 
 rests the curl of the Donelson infant, there was 
 employed a gray-haired, sweet-faced woman of 
 more than three-score, , who could remember 
 when she was little Mary Emily Donelson, a 
 veritable White House girl ! As for the boys, 
 Andrew became a captain of engineers in the 
 United States army, but faded away like poor 
 Lincoyer in early manhood, while John fell at 
 the battle of Chickamauga, fighting in defense 
 of the Confederate cause. 
 
 Before, however, President Jackson's second 
 term had drawn to a close, failing health forced 
 104 
 
Indian Lincoyer 
 
 " lovely Emily " to retire from Washington to 
 Tulip Grove, her beautiful Tennessee home. 
 Here she rapidly became weaker and a pretty 
 incident is told of her sitting one evening by 
 an open window admiring the winter sunset, 
 when a bird entered and, flying several times 
 around the room, alighted upon her chair. 
 
 One of the children uttered an exclamation 
 and tried to catch it, but the mother restrained 
 him, " Do not disturb it, darling," she said. 
 " Maybe it comes to bid me prepare for my 
 flight to another world. I leave you here, but 
 the Heavenly Father who shelters and provides 
 for this poor little bird this wintry day, will also 
 watch over and take care of you all when I am 
 gone. Don't forget mama; love her always, 
 and try to live so we may all meet again in 
 heaven." 
 
 A few days later the quartette of little ones 
 was left motherless. 
 
 Young Andrew Jackson and his wife, hence- 
 forth kindly cared for the old gentleman in the 
 White House. She, highly cultured and ac- 
 complished, had, as Sarah Yorke, been the pet 
 of a large circle of friends in the Quaker City, 
 and the President was devoted to her. 
 
 One day, when a deputation from the Key- 
 stone State visited him, he welcomed them with : 
 105 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 " Gentlemen, I am very glad to see you, for I 
 am much indebted to Pennsylvania. She has 
 given me a daughter who is a great comfort to 
 her father." 
 
 After the expiration of his administration the 
 family all journeyed back to the old plantation, 
 where they made their home together. 
 
 It took a month to make the trip and the ex- 
 President's favorite grandchild, Rachel Jack- 
 son (named for his wife) has recalled for us 
 the excitement created by the coach breaking 
 down on the road as well as how the old General 
 gave away one hundred and fifty silver half- 
 dollars to his namesakes, saying to as many 
 mothers: "This is our country's eagle. It 
 will do for the little one to cut his teeth on now, 
 but teach him to love and defend it." 
 
 Young Rachel was the joy of the retired 
 hero's heart during the few remaining years of 
 his life, and one morning when she came to kiss 
 him " good-bye " before starting for school he 
 threw around her neck a chain of fine workman- 
 ship. To this was hung a miniature of the one 
 who had been his beloved companion for thirty- 
 seven years and which he had worn hidden in 
 his bosom ever since their parting. 
 
 " Wear it, Rachel, for my sake," he said. 
 
 Less than a week after he passed away, with 
 1 06 
 
Indian Lincoyer 
 
 his last gaze on the face of this dear grand- 
 daughter. He had joined the wife of his youth 
 beyond the stars, and Andrew Jackson, Jr., was 
 master of the Hermitage. 
 
 107 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE VAN BUREN BOYS 
 
 WHILE the incidents of the last chapter 
 were making history in the South, 
 and when away back at the close of 
 the eighteenth century " Old Hickory," as the 
 Waxhaw youngster, was winning his youthful 
 spurs, two little Dutch folk were trudging to 
 school together at Kinderhook on the Hudson. 
 
 One was young Martin Van Buren, the son 
 of " mine host," of the village tavern, and the 
 other little Hannah Hoes, who admired, with 
 all her girlish heart, the head scholar of the 
 Academy, the clever boy, who began the study 
 of law at fourteen, and who actually argued a 
 case against his preceptor, Sylvester, and won it, 
 too, before he was sixteen. 
 
 This seemed the more wonderful because he 
 was so small, the justice made him stand upon 
 a bench, with the exhortation : " There, Mat, 
 beat your master! " 
 
 Elated by this success, Martin, then, fared 
 108 
 
The Van Buren Boys 
 
 him off to New York to continue his studies 
 and there fell under the flattering influence of 
 the fascinating politician, Aaron Burr, when he 
 was at the zenith of his popularity. His fancy, 
 however, never wavered from the sweetheart of 
 his boyhood and he returned to Kinderhook and 
 to Hannah. 
 
 They were married and set up housekeeping 
 in a modest manner; a quartette of rolly-poly ba- 
 bies coming to make the little home bright and 
 cheery; though one was only vouchsafed them 
 for a few weeks. 
 
 Twelve years, too, were all they passed to- 
 gether, for shortly after their removal to Al- 
 bany — where Mr. Van Buren's profession as 
 well as his duties in the State Senate called him 
 — the gentle wife was summoned to join the 
 great majority. 
 
 A victim of consumption, her illness was a 
 long one, while she was so nervous that small 
 Abraham, John and the baby could only see her 
 on those days when she was most comfortable, 
 being just taken in to kiss her and then told to 
 " run away." 
 
 It has, however, been recorded by her niece, 
 a girl of sixteen at the time, that — 
 
 " When told by her physicians that she could 
 live, in all probability, but a few days longer, 
 109 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 she called her children to her and gave them her 
 dying counsel and blessing, and with the utmost 
 composure bade them farewell and committed 
 them to the care of the Saviour she loved and in 
 whom she trusted." 
 
 The baby could not have long survived his 
 mother, but in the course of a few years we 
 hear of Abraham at the Military Academy at 
 West Point. Here, like others, he started in, 
 in the " Awkward Squad," and worked and 
 drilled through his cadet course, after which he 
 was sent to subdue the red men of the plains, 
 only resigning when his father desired his serv- 
 ices as Secretary at the White House. 
 
 John, on the contrary, followed in the foot- 
 steps of his clever parent, taking his degree at 
 Yale, studying law with the late Benjamin F. 
 Butler, and being admitted to the bar. 
 
 He was an elegant young man, tall and hand- 
 some, with such delightful, courtly manners 
 that he was popularly known as " Prince 
 John." He was an attache of the legation dur- 
 ing Mr. Van Buren's short sojourn in England 
 — for the official career of the Kinderhook law- 
 yer is the most remarkable on record, he being 
 United States Senator, Governor of New York, 
 Secretary of State, Minister to the Court of 
 St. James and Vice-President, all within the 
 I 10 
 
The Van Buren Boys 
 
 short period of six years. Then, to crown all, 
 the chief honor within the nation's gift was 
 thrust upon him. 
 
 Probably Martin Van Buren never missed 
 his lost wife more than when he succeeded Gen- 
 eral Jackson, and the White House had to be 
 thrown open without a mistress to add graceful 
 womanly touches to its bare walls. Neverthe- 
 less, this " bachelor's hall " always presented 
 an appearance of unostentatious elegance and 
 its duties were administered with, elevated 
 grace. Even Henry Clay, Van Buren's bitter 
 enemy, wrote of him : 
 
 " I have always found him in his manner 
 and deportment, civil, courteous and gentle- 
 manly; and he dispenses in the noble mansion 
 which he now occupies, one worthy the residence 
 of the chief magistrate of a great people, a gen- 
 erous and liberal hospitality. An acquaintance 
 with him of more than twenty years' duration 
 has inspired me with a respect for the man, al- 
 though I regret to be compelled to say, I detest 
 the magistrate." 
 
 Abraham, who now wore the epaulettes of a 
 major, was his right-hand man and did his best 
 to make the public receptions pleasant affairs; 
 while to one of these there came one day, with 
 Mistress Dolly Madison, such a graceful, 
 in 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 vivacious girl that the President was quite capti- 
 vated with her. 
 
 A South Carolinian was pretty Angelica 
 Singleton, and little more than a schoolgirl, 
 having lately left the seminary of Madam Gre- 
 laud, in Philadelphia, where she had passed 
 several years. ' She, therefore, enjoyed her first 
 taste of Washington society, with all the zest 
 of a " bud," and her sparkling, dark eyes soon 
 drew the gallant young officer to her side, while, 
 one New Year's Day, delighted Martin Van 
 Buren proudly presented his new daughter-in- 
 law as the Lady of the White House. 
 
 The following spring, the young couple took 
 a wedding trip to Europe, where they visited 
 the bride's uncle, Mr. Stevenson, then Minister 
 to England, and were most cordially received in 
 France by Louis Philippe and his queen. 
 
 When dining at St. Cloud ceremony was cast 
 aside, and the king himself conducted them 
 through the palace, and wished to show them 
 his grandson, the Comte De Paris. But, on 
 knocking at the door of the royal nursery, they 
 met with no response. 
 
 On returning to the drawing-room, Mrs. 
 Van Buren told this to the queen, who, laugh- 
 ingly said: "Ah, that is all the king knows 
 about it! After his mother left with the Due 
 112 
 
The Van Buren Boys 
 
 D'Orleans for Algiers, I caused the child to 
 be removed to a chamber near my own." She 
 then proposed sending for him and for her 
 Wurtemberg grandchild as well, but, unfortu- 
 nately, both little princes were fast asleep. 
 
 The bride and groom returned to America in 
 the fall, and, gaily enough, the administra- 
 tion of our eighth President drew to a close. 
 He only served one term and is said to have 
 saved half his salary. Therefore, on return- 
 ing to private life he was spared those pecuniary 
 troubles which distressed the old age of so many 
 of his predecessors. 
 
 He purchased, near the home of his boy- 
 hood, an old estate where Washington Irving 
 dwelt for a time and where he put the finishing 
 touches to his "Knickerbocker"; and naming 
 it " Lindenwald," settled down there into a 
 highly respected private citizen. 
 
 By this time, " Prince John " was winning 
 his laurels with his eloquent tongue, and, ere 
 long, became conspicuous as a chief among the 
 " Barnburners," a name given to Northern men 
 with Southern principles. 
 
 Often, too, on the streets of New York, 
 might be seen an old and a young man walk- 
 ing, arm in arm. The one short, white-haired, 
 but extremely erect; and the other tall and 
 113 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 striking in appearance, with a resolute, rather 
 aggressive bearing and with his hair parted in 
 the middle, in a fashion then novel on this side 
 of the Atlantic. Passersby often turned to 
 look at them and were wont to whisper: 
 " There goes ex-President Van Buren and his 
 younger son, ' Prince John.' " 
 
 The latter's health was not over strong and 
 he and his father, also, made a long and satis- 
 factory tour through Europe. He recuperated, 
 but eventually died at sea. 
 
 For some years, the mistress of the old Dutch 
 homestead of " Lindenwald " was Angelica 
 Van Buren, who there kept house for her fa- 
 ther-in-law and husband, and there a bevy of 
 grandsons was the joy of the ex-President, ere 
 his life peacefully ebbed away, beside the noble 
 stream discovered by Hendrick Hudson. Af- 
 terward, she took her children abroad to be 
 educated, and, in later life, was accounted a so- 
 ciety leader in New York, as well as the mother 
 of a promising second generation of " Van 
 Buren boys." 
 
 114 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 " TIPPECANOE " AND HIS FAMILY, TOO 
 
 " For Tippecanoe and Tyler, too, 
 And with them we'll beat little Van." 
 
 THIS was a popular election song of the 
 Whigs, which rang out uproariously all 
 over the land in 1 840, during what was 
 termed the " Log Cabin and Hard Cider Cam- 
 paign." 
 
 They did beat little Van Buren sure enough, 
 and nowhere was the victory more enthusias- 
 tically celebrated than round North Bend, in 
 Ohio, where General William Henry Harrison 
 and his good wife had come amongst the earli- 
 est pioneers. Here, too, their ten boys and 
 girls had been born, and here, alas ! one died in 
 infancy and seven in the first blush of young 
 manhood and womanhood. 
 
 Some old inhabitants, indeed, could recall the 
 
 time when the gallant captain, poor and then 
 
 unknown to fame, came a-wooing pretty, pious 
 
 Anna Symmes, the daughter of the proprietor 
 
 ii5 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 of the " Great Miami Purchase," and, being 
 opposed by her wealthy father, wedded her on 
 the sly, one day when the Judge was away from 
 home, and would laughingly relate how the irate 
 parent returned and exclaimed: "Well, sir, I 
 understand you have married Anna ! " 
 
 " Yes, sir," responded Captain Harrison can- 
 didly. 
 
 " But how do you expect to support her? " 
 " By my sword and my own right arm." 
 Which answer so delighted Judge Symmes 
 that he relented and gave the young couple his 
 blessing on the spot; while he lived to be rarely 
 proud of his son-in-law, the hero of Fort Meigs, 
 of the Thames, and, above all, of Tippecanoe, 
 — that fierce battle against the Indian Chief 
 Tecumseh and his prophet brother. 
 
 The son of a signer of the Declaration of 
 Independence and a college graduate, the Cap- 
 tain thought as much of education as of 
 warfare, and, as schools were " few and far be- 
 tween " in that thinly-settled country, he em- 
 ployed a tutor for his flock of little ones, fitted 
 up a cabin on his farm, as a schoolhouse, and 
 invited the boys and girls of his neighbors to 
 share his children's advantages. 
 
 This instruction was mingled with much of 
 the healthy fun of farm life, while from their 
 116 
 
" Tippecanoe " and His Family, Too 
 
 mother the young Harrisons imbibed strong re- 
 ligious principles, for Anna Symmes had been 
 brought up in an almost puritanical manner by 
 her grandmother and was wont to say, " from 
 her earliest childhood, the frivolous amuse- 
 ments of youth had no charm for her. If ever 
 constrained to attend places of fashionable 
 amusement, it was to gratify others and not her- 
 self." 
 
 Very sweet, but sadly subdued by the loss 
 of so many children, as well as ten grandchil- 
 dren, her influence over her family was strong 
 and abiding and her last surviving son once 
 wrote: " That I am a firm believer in the re- 
 ligion of Christ is not a virtue of mine. I im- 
 bibed it at my mother's breast and can no more 
 divest myself of it than I can of my nature." 
 
 This was John Scott Harrison, who was but 
 a wee laddie of seven when the Miami tribe of 
 Indians made its descent upon the white settle- 
 ment, led by the " Crouching Panther" (Te- 
 cumseh) . 
 
 But he was a man grown when his father de- 
 feated Martin Van Buren, lived on a neighbor- 
 ing farm with his second wife and had a small 
 seven-year-old of his own — little Benjamin, 
 destined in time to reach the same high pinnacle 
 as his grandfather, beneath whose humble roof 
 117 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 at North Bend he first saw the light. He was 
 not lucky enough to witness the old General's 
 inauguration, but two other young grandsons 
 did. They were the fatherless children of 
 President Harrison's namesake son, and they 
 accompanied their widowed mother to Wash- 
 ington, she — Mrs. Jane F. Harrison — being 
 the mistress of the White House during the 
 one brief month when her father-in-law held 
 the reins of government. 
 
 It must have passed like a dream to the boys 
 in the big mansion, and then pneumonia ruth- 
 lessly cut short the valiant career of the heroic 
 soldier and he passed away with this parting 
 injunction to Mr. Tyler — the Vice-President, 
 — on his lips : " Sir, I wish you to under- 
 stand the principles of government. I wish 
 them carried out. I ask nothing more." 
 
 For some years, his widow remained on the 
 old farm, but her last days were spent in the 
 home of her son, now Hon. J. Scott Harrison, 
 where she received almost idolatrous attentions 
 from her granddaughters. 
 
 Many of her grandsons were officers and sol- 
 diers in the Union Army during the Civil War, 
 and one, when bidding her " good-bye," ex- 
 pressed most affectionate regret at leaving her 
 on a bed of sickness. 
 
 118 
 
" Tippecanoe" and His Family, Too 
 
 " O no, my son," she said, " your country 
 needs your services; I do not. Go and dis- 
 charge your duty faithfully and fearlessly. I 
 feel that my prayers in your behalf will be 
 heard and that you will be returned in safety. 
 \nd yet, perhaps, I do not feel as much con- 
 cerned for you as I should. I have parted so 
 often with your grandfather under similar cir- 
 cumstances, and he was always returned to me 
 in safety, that I feel it will be the same with 
 
 ji 
 
 you. . 
 
 The young Captain did come back, crowned 
 with honors; and the beloved grandmother, re- 
 taining all her intellectual powers, lived to be 
 nearly ninety, an agreeable companion for both 
 old and young. 
 
 119 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 AN OCTAVE OF F. F. V.'s 
 
 THERE was no lack of " olive 
 branches " around the hospitable 
 board of John Tyler of Greenway, 
 and veritable F. F. V's were they, belonging to 
 the State which has aptly been termed, " The 
 Mother of Presidents." 
 
 Both their father and grandfather had occu- 
 pied the Governor's chair of Virginia, while the 
 gentle mother, whose maiden name was Letitia 
 Christian, came from a race of whom it was 
 said the sons were all " distinguished for their 
 personal courage, intelligence and graceful ap- 
 pearance and manners; and the daughters for 
 their beauty, piety and domestic virtues." 
 
 Mary, the first born of the seven, appears 
 to have been her father's darling, and to her — 
 when away in Congress — he wrote most long 
 and amusing letters about the current events of 
 the day, as well as pages of good advice regard- 
 ing her studies, reading and deportment. Al- 
 120 
 
An Octave of F. F. V.'s 
 
 ways, too, was he on the lookout for something 
 that would please her, as a book, a comb for 
 her hair or a new piano. 
 
 " My children are my principal treasures," 
 he says in one of these epistles, " and my un- 
 ceasing prayer is, that you may all so conduct 
 yourselves as to merit the esteem of the good. 
 In that way you will crown my declining years 
 with blessings and multiply my joys upon earth. 
 I am sure that you, my dear daughter, will ful- 
 fill my anticipations and be a blessing to your 
 parents." 
 
 It was, then, a great trial to Mr. Tyler when 
 the first break occurred in the family circle, and 
 this " dear daughter " in early girlhood, gave 
 her hand and heart to Henry Lightfoot Jones, 
 and went to live some distance from the old 
 homestead; and he writes thus pathetically: 
 
 " What am I to do without you, on my re- 
 turn home, should you have left before that 
 takes place? I need not say that I shall miss 
 you daily and hourly. I scarcely know how I 
 ever prevailed on myself to part with you at all, 
 but I hope the change may contribute to your 
 happiness." 
 
 Next to Mary, came two boys, Robert and 
 John, who were devoted admirers of their 
 kindly affectionate father. We can imagine 
 121 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 how they loved to hearken to reminiscences of 
 his prankish youth, and especially how he was 
 ringleader in a rebellion against a certain tyran- 
 nical teacher, more given to the birch rod than 
 to moral suasion ; how the pupils bound him 
 hand and foot and left him locked in the school- 
 house, until discovered by a passer-by; and how 
 their grandfather, Judge Tyler, when com- 
 plained to by the infuriated master, only quoted 
 majestically, " Sic semper tyrannis! " 
 
 These lads completed their education at the 
 college of William and Mary, in Williamsburg, 
 and it was Mr. Tyler's fondest wish that he and 
 his two sons might practise law together. 
 
 Robert married a daughter of the tragedian, 
 Thomas Apthorpe Cooper, and his bright 
 young wife, Priscilla, took quite an active part 
 at the White House during the Tyler regime. 
 
 Following these, came three little maids, Le- 
 titia, Elizabeth and Alice, and to this trio, the 
 loving parent, also, indited most affectionate 
 epistles. 
 
 " Misses Letty and Lizzie," he once wrote, 
 " if you do not learn your books and be obedient 
 and good girls, I shall not love you. You, 
 Miss Letty, do what is right and Lizzie will 
 follow your example; but if she is a bad girl, 
 don't do, Miss Lizzie, as she does, but do what 
 
An Octave of F. F. V.'s 
 
 is right and becoming. Father thinks mighty 
 often of little Alice, and hopes that she does 
 not cry much now." 
 
 This last small daughter is also spoken of in 
 the home correspondence as " the fattest thing, 
 and the sweetest and the worst you ever saw," 
 and she was but a child of twelve when Gen- 
 eral Harrison's sudden death made her father 
 President, while the baby, Tazewell, was still 
 younger. 
 
 By this time, however, Letty was married, as 
 well as Mary, and it was as young Mrs. Sem- 
 ple that she accompanied her invalid mother to 
 Washington and joined the family in the White 
 House. Here, the customary mode of life at 
 Greenway was kept up as much as possible, 
 while the morning after their arrival, their fa- 
 ther said at the breakfast table, " Now, my 
 children, during the next few years we are to 
 occupy the home of the President of the United 
 States. I hope you will conduct yourselves 
 with even more than your usual propriety and 
 decorum. Remember you will be much in the 
 public eye. You are to know no favorites. 
 Your visitors will be citizens of the United 
 States, and as such are all to be received with 
 equal courtesy. You will not receive any gifts 
 whatever and allow no one to approach you on 
 123 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 the subject of office or favors. These words 
 you will kindly remember, my children, and let 
 it not be incumbent on me to speak them again." 
 
 Hospitality was now dispensed by two din- 
 ner parties each week and an occasional ball, 
 but only once a year were the women permitted 
 at table in the State dining-room, and that on 
 the occasion of the President's annual dinner to 
 his Cabinet. At this period, too, was started 
 the idea of having music in the grounds of the 
 mansion on mild Saturday afternoons. 
 
 The beauty of the family was, undoubtedly, 
 Elizabeth, a charming young girl with fine eyes, 
 an exquisite complexion and soft hair curling in 
 her neck. She, too, was a White House bride, 
 having a pretty little winter wedding in the big 
 East Room. Mrs. Robert Tyler thus described 
 her on the occasion to a friend in Pennsylvania : 
 
 " Lizzie looked surpassingly lovely in her 
 wedding dress and long, blonde, lace veil, her 
 face literally covered with blushes and dimples. 
 She behaved remarkably well, too. Any quan- 
 tity of compliments were paid to her. I heard 
 one of her bridesmaids express to Mr. Webster 
 her surprise at Lizzie consenting to give up her 
 belleship, with all the delights of Washington 
 society and the advantages of her position, and 
 124 
 
An Octave of F, F. V.'s 
 
 retire to a quiet Virginia home. 'Ah, me ! ' 
 said he, 
 
 "Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, 
 And love is heaven, and heaven is love.' " 
 
 It is rather interesting, too, to note that a 
 son of this White House union, William Waller, 
 when the Civil War broke out, resigned from 
 West Point and wedded a young sister-in-law 
 of President Davis in the executive mansion of 
 the Confederate States at Richmond. 
 
 John, another son, though a mere lad, also 
 joined the Southern army, and was slain in 
 battle, " fighting," as he said, " for his mother's 
 grave." 
 
 But the four years in the White House were 
 eventful ones to the Tylers in other ways. 
 There a son was born to Mary and a daughter 
 to Robert, and there the gentle, beloved mother 
 — who had long been in delicate health — 
 breathed her last, passing away with her favor- 
 ite flower, a damask rose, clasped in her fragile 
 hand. 
 
 This was a sad loss, indeed, and Mr. Tyler 
 turned to his second daughter, Mrs. Semple, to 
 assist him with the social duties of his high of- 
 fice. These she discharged with grace and 
 125 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 tact; and, in her father's leisure moments, was 
 his devoted companion, sharing his afternoon 
 drives and, when he was weary, lulling him to 
 sleep with his favorite song, an old-fashioned 
 one called " Rome." Never did she dream 
 that she would ever be called upon to resign her 
 place to another. 
 
 At that very time, however, another mother- 
 less girl had lately left the renowned Chegary 
 Institute, in New York, and was traveling in 
 Europe, acquiring all the polish which foreign 
 culture could bestow. 
 
 A most accomplished and attractive young 
 lady was Julia Gardiner, and on her return to 
 her native land she accompanied her father on 
 a visit to Washington. There they, as well as 
 the President, were on board the Princeton on 
 the occasion of that ill-fated pleasure excursion, 
 when the great gun, " The Peacemaker," sud- 
 denly burst, carrying desolation to so many 
 hearts. 
 
 Among those killed was Mr. Gardiner, and 
 Mr. Tyler doubtless cared for the dazed and 
 bereaved orphan, as well as for the victims, all 
 of whom were buried from the Nation's home- 
 stead. 
 
 " Pity," it is said, " is akin to love," and so 
 it must have proved, for the following summer 
 126 
 
An Octave of F. F. V.'s 
 
 the President took a trip to New York, and 
 when he came back, he brought Miss Julia as 
 a stepmother for little Alice and Tazewell. 
 
 A pretty girl of fifteen was the youngest 
 daughter at this time and a high-spirited little 
 puss as well, as was shown one Sunday after- 
 noon when, accompanied by Tazewell, she went 
 to service at old St. John's. The President's 
 pew was only reserved until a certain hour, so, 
 being late, the youngsters found it occupied by 
 two theological students from the Seminary at 
 Alexandria. At their entrance, however, the 
 young men at once stepped out and courteously 
 held open the pew door for them to enter. 
 With a toss of her saucy head, then, Miss Alice, 
 pushing her brother before her, went in and 
 quickly slammed to the door, leaving the dis- 
 comfited youths standing in the aisle outside, 
 covered with blushes and confusion. 
 
 They were forced to seek seats elsewhere, 
 but in spite of this rebuff, one of the stu- 
 dents could not help admiring the piquant 
 face of the rude little lady and soon after 
 called on the President, with the request that 
 he might make her acquaintance. This was 
 permitted and when the family had retired to 
 private life at Williamsburg, Va., the infatu- 
 ated young clergyman obtained the rector- 
 127 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 ship of the church there and finally married 
 bonny Alice Tyler. It is their daughter who 
 has given me this account of her parents' first 
 meeting in old St. John's. 
 
 Quite different, I fancy, was Alice's young- 
 est and favorite brother, Tazewell, for it is thus 
 his child, Miss Martha T. Tyler of San Fran- 
 cisco, has described him to me. " He was a 
 sensitive boy of an imaginative, poetic temper- 
 ament, marked at times, nevertheless, by a 
 somewhat paradoxical sense of humor. He 
 lived in an era when children were supposed 
 to be seldom seen and never heard, and except 
 for a young sister, Alice, to whom he was sin- 
 gularly devoted, I think his life in Washing- 
 ton must have been a lonely one for a child. 
 . . . His mother died when he was about 
 twelve years of age. After a little they put 
 him to school at Georgetown, and I can picture 
 his return at vacation time to the little sister, 
 always through her brief life — she died young 
 — so closely in sympathy with him." 
 
 Still we hear of grand races in the long East 
 Room, of merry romps with a little neighbor 
 in the garden, and of a fine fancy ball for chil- 
 dren, which was given at the White House dur- 
 ing this administration. 
 
 The eight months after the President's sec- 
 128 
 
An Octave of F. F. V.'s 
 
 ond marriage were particularly festive, while 
 the clever young bride first introduced the eti- 
 quette of Windsor Castle by having the names 
 of guests announced at the door. She closed 
 her short reign by an elaborate entertainment 
 on the evening of Washington's Birthday, 
 1845, an d later passed most of her life on a 
 fine estate, which Mr. Tyler purchased on the 
 James River. 
 
 A charming home was Sherwood Forest, and 
 Mistress Julia found her chief pleasure in car- 
 ing for and training her little son, Gardiner, the 
 child of the ex-President's old age, who com- 
 pleted the Tyler octave. He was, I believe, 
 once the president of " William and Mary Col- 
 lege," and is still well known as Judge Tyler 
 of Virginia. 
 
 Last year, however, there passed away in 
 Washington, the latest survivor of all John Ty- 
 ler's happy boys and girls who dwelt with him 
 in the Executive Mansion. An aged lady of 
 nearly ninety and totally blind, she had long 
 resided at the Louise Home — that charming 
 abiding-place, given by Mr. W. W. Corcoran, 
 in memory of his daughter, for Southern gentle- 
 women of refined birth and culture. 
 
 Impoverished by the Civil War, she for some 
 years conducted a successful school for young 
 129 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 ladies in Baltimore, but as her powers failed 
 found a pleasant rest after her labors in this 
 lovely spot, in fulfillment of a promise once 
 made to its founder. Never, though, could she 
 be induced to enter the official residence, and 
 proudly declared: " I have not been there 
 since the Pierce administration." 
 
 Her room was filled with mementos of her 
 old home and kind friends kept it decked with 
 flowers. Quaint, beautiful portraits of her 
 mother and sisters beamed on her from the wall, 
 and, ever and anon, her thoughts and conversa- 
 tion would revert to the halcyon days when she 
 was bright Letitia Tyler Semple, the daughter 
 and mistress of the White House. 
 
 30 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 " MISS BETTY " TAYLOR 
 
 WHEN Mr. Polk was President, the 
 boys and girls of the White House 
 were " conspicuous by their absence." 
 Never a chick nor child awakened the echoes 
 of the historic halls, and there was little to at- 
 tract young people even to the receptions and 
 social affairs, as Mrs. Polk tabooed dancing and 
 even did away with the serving of refreshments. 
 In spite of this, however, that dignified lady 
 was quite a popular hostess, and has ever been 
 remembered with deep respect and admiration. 
 Still, we cannot help fancying that a certain 
 youthful and frivolous set in Washington re- 
 joiced over the election of General Zachary 
 Taylor, not only because he was just then the 
 idol of the nation on account of victories won 
 in the Mexican war, but because he had a 
 blithe, young daughter of nineteen — and a 
 bride at that — to give a touch of girlish grace 
 to the presidential dwelling-place. 
 131 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 " For more than a quarter of a century my 
 house has been the tent and my home the bat- 
 tlefield," once remarked bluff " Old Rough and 
 Ready," as his soldiers fondly nicknamed him; 
 and as his wife (who had been a Miss Mar- 
 garet Smith of Kentucky) followed him with- 
 ersoever he went, to the rude western frontier, 
 infested by Indians, or to the fever-haunted 
 everglades of Florida, their three children — 
 Sarah, Richard and Elizabeth — knew naught 
 of home-life and enjoyed very little of their 
 parents' society and care, being left with friends 
 in settlements or placed at boarding-schools. 
 Far from her mother's wing, then, in a Phila- 
 delphia seminary, Elizabeth — or Betty as she 
 was generally called — developed into the 
 bright, happy-hearted maiden of pleasant mem- 
 ory, while bookish little Dick was at the age of 
 thirteen, dispatched across the sea to Scotland. 
 There he spent three satisfactory, industrious 
 years, becoming acquainted with the classics in 
 good old " Edinboro' town," followed them up 
 by a twelvemonth in France, and was then well 
 fitted to return and enter the Junior Class at 
 Yale, from which university he was graduated 
 two years later. 
 
 But, for all Richard's studious ways, the love 
 of warfare was born in his blood and bred in 
 132 
 
Miss Betty" Taylor 
 
 his bone. Scarcely, then, had he left college 
 before he was off to join his father's camp on 
 the Rio Grande, and take his part in the con- 
 flict with our Mexican neighbors, being present 
 at the glorious triumphs of Palo Alto and 
 Resaca de la Palma, where the General, " who 
 never knew when he was beaten," won his 
 proudest laurels. 
 
 Probably this was highly pleasing to fighting 
 Zach, who loved gunpowder as he did his break- 
 fast bacon, and would ride into action as though 
 going to a fair, wearing a broad-brimmed straw 
 hat and a linen duster. He advanced his boy 
 all he could, but he set his face strongly against 
 his girls marrying into the army, and frowned 
 a grim refusal when a young lieutenant, named 
 Jefferson Davis, came a-wooing his elder daugh- 
 ter, saying that " a soldier never had a home." 
 Love, however, laughs at all objections and, ere 
 long, Miss Sarah and her dauntless officer lover 
 had eloped together, word of the runaway 
 marriage being brought back to the irate father. 
 He was exceedingly wroth and declared that 
 " no honorable man would thus defy the wishes 
 of parents, and no truly affectionate daughter 
 be so regardless of duty." 
 
 Indeed, he never saw his first-born child 
 again, as she died very suddenly only a few 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 months later; nor was he reconciled to Mr. 
 Davis — the man destined in after-time to be 
 the head of the Confederate States — until they 
 met, some years later, in quite a romantic man- 
 ner on the battlefield, after the victory at Buena 
 Vista, when the feelings of both overcame 
 them, and, falling into each other's arms, they 
 mingled their tears together. 
 
 Little Miss Betty was now the only one left 
 to be the comfort of her parents' hearts and the 
 light of the humble home which the Taylors at 
 length made for themselves, out of a tumble- 
 down cottage on the river bank at Baton Rouge. 
 There mother and daughter lived during the 
 wearing suspense which followed every battle of 
 the distant war in Mexico, and thither the Gen- 
 eral retired when the conflict was over. 
 
 But not long were they allowed to enjoy a 
 period of domestic peace. The eyes of the 
 whole country were, ere long, turned upon old 
 Rough and Ready as the rising star, the Baton 
 Rouge cottage became a Mecca for tourists, 
 while Miss Betty sought Bliss with a worthy 
 young major of that name; by which we may 
 conclude that the General had overcome his dis- 
 taste for military sons-in-law. 
 
 The nomination and election of her husband 
 was anything but a gratification to Mrs. Taylor. 
 134 
 
Miss Betty" Iaylor 
 
 She dreaded public life and declared: " It was 
 a plot to deprive her of his society, and shorten 
 his life by unnecessary care and responsibility." 
 Strangely prophetic words these proved, which 
 later she remembered with profound sorrow and 
 bitterness. Very rarely, too, did she appear 
 at any social function at Washington, leaving 
 everything to Elizabeth, who was the real mis- 
 tress as well as daughter of the White House. 
 
 Before long the pleasant-faced girl, still in 
 her teens, had won a host of friends by her 
 genial affability, and even learned to lead the 
 conversation at public receptions, her remarks 
 always being distinguished for good sense and 
 a whimsical humor, while her influence began 
 at last to be felt in political circles as well as 
 social. 
 
 Indeed, young Mrs. Bliss is said to have 
 done " the honors of the establishment with 
 the artlessness of a rustic belle and the grace 
 of a duchess." Her married name, however, 
 was completely ignored. She was " Miss 
 Betty Taylor " to old and young, and as " Miss 
 Betty " will ever be handed down in White 
 House annals. 
 
 It is to be regretted that her gentle sway 
 was of such short duration. Only a year and 
 a half, and then dawned that fatal Fourth of 
 135 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House ' 
 
 July which was a gala day for the capital, 
 crowds gathering from far and near to witness 
 the laying of the corner stone of the Washing- 
 ton National Monument. 
 
 Of course the President and his fair daugh- 
 ter were present, to listen to the oration deliv- 
 ered by General Foote; to see the bag of sand 
 from Kosciusko's tomb and other mementos 
 deposited beneath the great block, and, also, to 
 hear the address of one who had once been a 
 boy in a Presidential family — that of George 
 Washington Parke Custis, the adopted son of 
 the Father of his Country. 
 
 The weather was extremely hot, the sun beat- 
 ing down with great intensity. President Tay- 
 lor was quite affected by it and drank freely of 
 ice water. On returning home, too, he ate 
 heartily of cherries, washing them down with 
 iced milk. An hour after he was taken vio- 
 lently ill and five days later the brave old war- 
 rior was no more, his last words being: " I 
 have endeavored to do my duty." 
 
 He lay in state in the famous East Room on 
 a magnificent catafalco of black velvet trimmed 
 with white lace; there was a grand military 
 funeral conspicuous in the procession of which 
 appeared " Old Whitey," the General's trusty 
 war horse, with all his trappings on, following 
 
 136 
 
"Miss Betty" Taylor 
 
 his master to the grave; and then, Miss Betty 
 accompanied her bereaved mother, with a very 
 sad heart, back into private life. Their sad- 
 ness was shared, too, by her brother Richard, 
 who, ere this, had been forced by ill health to 
 leave the army and was raising cotton on a 
 Southern plantation. 
 
 As misfortunes, also, seldom come singly, the 
 death of President Taylor was soon after fol- 
 lowed by that of Major Bliss; and in later 
 years his widow was known as Mrs. Dandridge 
 of Winchester, Va. 
 
 137 
 
G 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 CLEVER MARY FILLMORE 
 
 *£ ^""""*>| RADLE him in a sap-trough, sir! 
 Cradle him in a sap-trough! " 
 That was the advice given by 
 good old Farmer Fillmore to one who ques- 
 tioned him as to the best manner in which to 
 bring up a boy. 
 
 In truth, then, his son Millard was not only 
 cradled in a sap-trough, but at an early age in- 
 ured to many of the hardships of life. Hence, 
 he was a " self-made man," in the most popular 
 sense of the word. 
 
 It was probably from his mother that Mil- 
 lard Fillmore inherited his fondness for books, 
 although there was very little to foster that 
 taste in the plain farmhouse where the library 
 consisted of the Bible and a hymn book; and 
 his conscientiousness from his worthy father, 
 who was wont to say that his creed was the 
 shortest one in Christendom, and was " Do 
 right." 
 
 133 
 
Clever Mary Fillmore 
 
 It was reading, however, which proved 
 the country lad's " open sesame " to success, as 
 soon as an opportunity offered. Reading it 
 was which transformed the poor clothier's ap- 
 prentice into a lawyer and set his feet on the 
 first rung of the ladder that was ultimately to 
 lead to the White House, though doubtless 
 it was assisted by a certain " sweet courtesy of 
 manner " which won for him a host of friends. 
 
 There was no pleasanter home in all Buffalo 
 than that to which Mr. Fillmore carried his 
 wife and baby boy in 1829, and there, three 
 years later, a little girl was added to the small 
 family. 
 
 Named for both father and mother was 
 Master Millard Powers, while the wee daugh- 
 ter was christened Mary Abigail, and soon 
 showed herself such a bright, precocious child 
 that her parents were anxious to give her every 
 advantage in their power. 
 
 The excellent public schools of the little lake 
 city afforded a fine foundation for a superior ed- 
 ucation, but were supplemented by private les- 
 sons in the higher branches, modern languages, 
 music, drawing and painting, while she was 
 " finished " by a year at Mrs. Sedgwick's select 
 seminary at Lenox, Mass. 
 
 From the Berkshire Hills, then, Mary re- 
 139 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 turned home a remarkably accomplished young 
 woman, who could chatter in French like a 
 Parisienne, was conversant with German and 
 Spanish, a superb musician and with quite a 
 taste for sculpture. 
 
 This last she was encouraged in by a much 
 beloved schoolmate, who delighted to dabble in 
 clay, a girl who afterward made a name for 
 herself in her chosen profession — the cele- 
 brated Harriet Hosmer. 
 
 How rarely proud Mr. and Mrs. Fillmore 
 were of this clever daughter ! But still the girl's 
 active mind was not satisfied and, although her 
 father was now Vice-President, she determined 
 to enter the State Normal School and qualify 
 for a teacher. This she did, being graduated 
 in six months and teaching three, as was re- 
 quired. But she had scarcely completed her 
 course before General Taylor's sudden demise 
 put Mr. Fillmore at the head of the nation, and 
 she was whisked off to Washington to try her 
 wings in an entirely new sphere. 
 
 Luckily American girls are extremely adapta- 
 ble, and Mary soon found as much pleasure in 
 society, in public functions and in long, delight- 
 ful drives through the beautiful country around 
 the capital, as she had in higher mathematics 
 and the regular routine of college life. 
 140 
 
Clever Mary Fillmore 
 
 Young Millard — now a newly-fledged law- 
 yer — was also with them, having resigned his 
 profession for the nonce, to undertake the duties 
 of private secretary, as so many sons of Presi- 
 dents have done. 
 
 These brainy folk, however, were aghast at 
 the utter dearth of books in the White House. 
 It made the historic mansion seem to them like 
 a body without a soul, and Mr. Fillmore peti- 
 tioned Congress for an appropriation to remedy 
 the need. 
 
 This was granted, and he himself selected 
 the library and had it arranged in a large, 
 cheerful room on the second floor. That, then, 
 became the favorite apartment of the whole 
 house. 
 
 There Mrs. Fillmore, who was in mourning 
 and disinclined to general society, gathered 
 her little home comforts around her; there the 
 daughter had her piano, harp and guitar; there 
 they received the informal visits of personal 
 friends, and there the most delightful little 
 musicales were given, with a few chosen spirits 
 to assist and appreciate. 
 
 There was an abundance of affectionate, 
 
 domestic life behind the public one, and Mary 
 
 was the center of both; for though not a pretty 
 
 girl, she was extremely vivacious, with a keen 
 
 141 
 
Boys and Girls of the Whit e House 
 
 sense of the ridiculous, and bubbling over with 
 wit and fun. People, too, were always at- 
 tracted by the goodness, as well as intellect, 
 shining in her straightforward, open counte- 
 nance. 
 
 Most peacefully, then, the thirteenth admin- 
 istration waxed and waned, although the mut- 
 terings from the approaching war cloud were 
 already beginning to be heard. 
 
 It closed at last, but Mrs. Fillmore only left 
 the White House to enter the " mansion not 
 made by hands," and Mary returned to Buffalo 
 to do her best to fill the place of one of whom 
 her husband said: "For twenty-seven years, 
 my entire married life, I was always greeted 
 with a happy smile." 
 
 Bravely she took up the loving task and her 
 painting and sculpture as well, while she bade 
 fair to rival her friend, Miss Hosmer, in the 
 field of art. For being only twenty-one she 
 looked forward to a long and useful future. 
 But it was not to be. 
 
 Her grandparents lived seventeen miles dis- 
 tant at Aurora and thither Mary went one hot 
 July day to pay them a little visit. She arrived 
 in the best of spirits and, apparently, in robust 
 health; but, that very night, she was attacked 
 by cholera, then making one of its dread 
 
Clever Mary Fillmore 
 
 marches through the land. Hastily, her father 
 and brother were summoned to her side, but 
 she knew them not and passed away in the very 
 flower of her promising young womanhood. A 
 host of sorrowing friends followed this cleverest 
 of all our White House girls to her last green 
 resting-place at Forest Lawn, echoing the words 
 of one of her obituaries: 
 
 " Blessing She Was, God Made Her So." 
 
 So the home of the two Millard Fillmores 
 was left as lonely and desolate as seemed the 
 great house at Washington to those who were 
 its occupants at this very time. 
 
 For, in the White House now dwelt another 
 childless couple, though unlike the Polks, 
 Franklin and Jane Pierce could remember three 
 sunny heads and three bonny boyish faces which 
 they had once called their own. Two died 
 when little more than babes, but the third — a 
 promising lad of thirteen — was instantly killed 
 in a railroad accident on the Boston & Maine 
 Railroad, only two months before his father's 
 inauguration, the life of the President-elect be- 
 ing endangered at the same time. 
 
 Franklin Pierce's term of office was called 
 the " beauty administration," from the many 
 beautiful women who came prominently before 
 143 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 the public at this time; but in the official resi- 
 dence itself dwelt a very delicate and sorrowful 
 lady, still suffering from the same accident 
 which robbed her of her last son and to both 
 her and the President the vast rooms were ever 
 haunted by wraith-like memories of the children 
 they had " loved long since and lost awhile." 
 
 144 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE BONNY LASS OF LANCASTER 
 
 ABOUT none of our Presidents has such 
 a halo of romance hung as that which 
 surrounded James Buchanan, the fif- 
 teenth leader of the nation. Losing by death, 
 while still in early manhood, the one and only 
 love of his life, the chapter of sentiment was 
 closed to him forever and made him a confirmed 
 bachelor, sedate and grave before his time. 
 
 His attitude toward all women was that of 
 chivalric courtesy, but his chief affections seem 
 to have been lavished upon the child of a favor- 
 ite sister, who was, at first, rather a torment and 
 burden, but, as years developed her into a 
 maiden of rare beauty and intelligence, became 
 like a daughter in his home, as well as his dear 
 companion, confidante and friend. 
 
 When the four little Lanes of Mercersburg, 
 Penn., were left orphans at an early age, Har- 
 riet, the youngest of the quartette, and a bright 
 golden-haired lassie of nine, unhesitatingly 
 145 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 elected to live with her uncle, James Buchanan, 
 rather than with any other relative. 
 
 This was a bit staggering to the dignified 
 gentleman, who was immersed in politics and 
 not particularly fond of children, but, feeling 
 flattered by her preference, finally brought his 
 young niece to the house in Lancaster, where he 
 kept " bachelor's hall," presided over by a trust- 
 worthy spinster always known as " Miss 
 Hetty," and who was his housekeeper for forty 
 years. Here she had, too, for company a lively 
 boy cousin, James Buchanan Henry, who, like 
 herself, was fatherless and motherless, and had 
 also found a domicile beneath the good lawyer's 
 roof. 
 
 A recent writer has said: "She came into 
 Buchanan's life like a breath of wind from the 
 mountain-side, fresh, sweet, and wild. Bu- 
 chanan was distraught. His bachelor habitat 
 was in confusion. He was a man of theories and 
 ideals. This bit of youthful life that had 
 elected to invade the quiet of his days was a 
 being of impulse, however generous, of exuber- 
 ant health and spirits." 
 
 In fact, he found the harum-scarum little elf 
 
 something of a problem, though, even then, she 
 
 delighted him by her truthfulness. " She never 
 
 told a lie," he once said of her in after-years; 
 
 146 
 
The Bonny Lass of Lancaster 
 
 " she had a soul above deceit or fraud. She 
 was too proud for it." 
 
 The first winter spent in Lancaster was not, 
 however, a particularly pleasant one to young 
 Harriet. Being summoned to Washington for 
 the session of Congress, Mr. Buchanan closed 
 his Pennsylvania home and moved his menage, 
 including Miss Hetty Parker, to the capital; but 
 he left his little ward behind, in the faithful but 
 somewhat stern care of two elderly maiden 
 ladies of very strict principles who were wont 
 to discipline her by means of her healthy appe- 
 tite and love of sweets. There were occasions 
 when she was obliged to drink her tea without 
 any sugar or go without her dessert for dinner; 
 so it was with rapture she welcomed her uncle 
 on his return; while for months she lived in 
 dread of being again placed in the severe spin- 
 sters' care. 
 
 At the age of twelve, she was sent, with her 
 sister Mary, to a boarding-school, at Charles- 
 town, West Virginia, and, while there, her 
 guardian felt it his duty to write to her every 
 day. 
 
 In one letter, after he became Secretary of 
 
 State under President Polk, he wrote: "My 
 
 labors are great, but they do not ' way ' me 
 
 down, as you write the word. Now I would 
 
 147 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 say ' weigh,' but doctors may differ on this 
 point." Further on, too — " Your friends, 
 often inquire for you. They have 
 given you something of a name here, and Mrs. 
 Polk and Miss Rucker, her niece, have several 
 times urged me to permit you to come and pass 
 some time with them. I have been as deaf as 
 the adder to their request, knowing, to use a 
 word of your grandmother's, that you are too 
 4 outsetting ' already. There is a time for all 
 things under the sun, as the wise man says, and 
 your time will yet come." He was fearful lest 
 the sweet bud of a girl, left in his charge, 
 should blossom out into society too soon; so, 
 during the three years when her education was 
 being completed at the Visitation Convent in 
 Georgetown, she was permitted but one Sun- 
 day each month at her uncle's home on F Street, 
 and he was highly pleased with her later, when, 
 quite voluntarily, she decided to pass a winter 
 quietly among her relatives in Pennsylvania. 
 But every summer Mr. Buchanan took both his 
 nieces to Bedford Springs and there, one sea- 
 son, Miss Harriet, when still in her early teens, 
 met a young Baltimorean fresh from college, 
 who made a deep impression upon her, and one 
 who was to play a prominent part in her life 
 story, although not until long after. 
 148 
 
The Bonny Lass of Lancaster 
 
 About the time his niece left school the politi- 
 cian purchased the fine estate of Wheatlands, 
 just outside of Lancaster, and thither the family 
 removed, taking possession of the spacious brick 
 mansion set against a background of woodland 
 and profusely shaded by oaks, elms and larches. 
 
 Harriet Lane took a deep interest in the lay- 
 ing out of the grounds, and here it was that she 
 started in on an almost ideal young ladyhood; 
 while her mind was broadened by being her 
 uncle's constant companion, reading aloud and 
 discussing with him the topics of the day. 
 Myriads of distinguished visitors also found 
 their way to Wheatlands, while there were fre- 
 quent trips to Philadelphia, Pittsburg, New 
 York, Washington and Virginia. 
 
 Everywhere flocks of admirers followed in 
 the young belle's train, but she remained won- 
 derfully " fancy free," except for that one little 
 episode at the Springs, and, ere long, Mr. Bu- 
 chanan being appointed Minister to England, 
 Miss Harriet joined him there, only to find the 
 same marked attention she had received in her 
 own land. Of course the republican maid was 
 presented at court and acquitted herself " as to 
 the manner bred," while all present were im- 
 pressed by her power and grace, as well as her 
 deep violet eyes, almost perfect mouth and 
 149 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 wealth of golden-brown hair arranged in the 
 simplest style. 
 
 The royal family, also, received the Ameri- 
 can minister and his fair niece in the social, in- 
 formal way which is so much more flattering 
 than at a big public function. She writes, in 
 one of her letters home: 
 
 " We have dined with the queen. Her in- 
 vitations are always short, and, as the court is 
 in mourning and as I had no black dress, one 
 day's notice kept me very busy. The queen 
 was most gracious, and talked a great deal to 
 me. Uncle sat upon her right hand, and Prince 
 Albert was talkative, and altogether we passed 
 a charming evening. The Princess Royal came 
 in after dinner, and is simple, unaffected, and 
 very childlike. Her perfect simplicity and 
 sweet manners are charming." 
 
 Miss Lane also enjoyed a bit of continental 
 travel, and it was not until the autumn of 1855 
 that she returned to America — returned to 
 meet her first great grief in the death of her 
 only sister, Mary, on the far-away shores of the 
 Pacific, which was quickly followed by that of 
 a brother, to whom she was tenderly attached. 
 
 It was, therefore, with her beauty and spirits 
 somewhat subdued that this lovely girl accom- 
 panied the bachelor President to the White 
 150 
 
The Bonny Lass of Lancaster 
 
 House, making her first reappearance in public 
 at the inaugural ball, clad in a simple white 
 gown, flower trimmed, and with a necklace of 
 pearls. Now was her opportunity to repay her 
 uncle for some of the kindness showered upon 
 the little orphan of Mercersburg, and gladly 
 she performed every duty, however onerous, al- 
 though in the seating of guests at state dinners 
 and other ceremonial details, she was much as- 
 sisted by the President's private secretary, who 
 was the boy cousin with whom she had so often 
 played, James Buchanan Henry. 
 
 This administration was a memorable one in 
 many ways, while the President not only re- 
 ceived official visits, but entertained hosts of 
 personal friends from home and abroad. 
 Among these last was the Prince of Wales, who 
 was their guest for five days, and who presented 
 his gracious hostess with portraits of all the 
 royal family. 
 
 Harriet Lane was now at the zenith of her 
 glorious career, and only one other mistress of 
 the White House has excited so much interest 
 or been so universally popular. The dignified, 
 courtly bachelor-President, with his fascinating 
 niece beside him, was a picture the people loved 
 to look upon and their receptions were always 
 thronged. Her name was a household word 
 151 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 and streets, vessels, clubs, and even articles of 
 dress were named for her. 
 
 But it was an apprehensive regime, for war 
 clouds were now gathering thick and fast. 
 
 So we can imagine that it was with almost a 
 sigh of relief that, at the end of four years, 
 Buchanan resigned his proud position, while his 
 journey from Washington to Lancaster was a 
 continuous ovation, and, as he drove up to the 
 door at Wheatlands, the city guards stood 
 drawn up in front of the house and a band 
 joyously played " Home Sweet Home ! " 
 
 Then ensued the exciting, dreadful years of 
 carnage, during which our bonny lass was, as 
 ever, the ex-President's dear companion in the 
 seclusion now most congenial to him ; but, when 
 peace was declared, he could keep her no longer. 
 
 Therefore, one January day, in 1866, the big 
 brick house blossomed with flowers and shone 
 with cheery, blazing fires, while carriage-loads 
 of gay folk drove from far and near to see the 
 stately belle give her heart and hand to the 
 young man from Baltimore. 
 
 Yes, she of whom it has been said that she 
 received more offers of marriage than any other 
 American woman; she who had not been 
 tempted by foreign titles or unbounded wealth, 
 at last wedded her early love of the dear old 
 152 
 
The Bonny Lass of Lancaster 
 
 Bedford Springs days, Henry Elliott Johnston, 
 of whom it need only be said that he was fully 
 worthy to be the husband of Harriet Lane. 
 
 You may be sure that the first son born to 
 the happy pair was given the name of him who 
 had been his mother's best " guide, philosopher 
 and friend," and who thus wrote to his ward, 
 regarding this cherished babe: 
 
 " I sincerely and ardently pray for your boy 
 long life, happiness and prosperity, and that he 
 may become a wise and a useful man, under the 
 blessing of Providence, in his day and genera- 
 tion. Much will depend on his early and 
 Christian training. Be not too indulgent, nor 
 make him too much of an idol." 
 
 This was indited only a few months before 
 the " Sage of Wheatlands " finally succumbed 
 to that enemy which had troubled him for years 
 — the rheumatic gout — leaving the house at 
 Lancaster to his niece, and there she and her lit- 
 tle ones passed many summers. 
 
 Much that he wished for his young name- 
 sake came to pass, for James Buchanan John- 
 ston grew into a youth of rare promise, great 
 loveliness of character and marked intellectual 
 powers. 
 
 Long life, however, was not granted him, 
 and he died in his fifteenth year, while his heart- 
 *S3 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 broken parents sought distraction amid the 
 orange groves and grape vineyards of Italy, 
 there only to lose Henry — their sole remain- 
 ing child. Two years later, too, the father 
 followed his boys into the better land. 
 
 Since then, widowed and childless, Harriet 
 Lane Johnston has lived chiefly in Washington, 
 the center of a circle of most devoted friends; 
 but verily, there have been shadows, as well as 
 sunshine, in the varied career of the bonny lass 
 of Lancaster. 
 
 154 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE LINCOLN LADS 
 
 JUST one hundred years ago, in a tumble- 
 down, windowless shanty built on a small 
 clearing in what is now Larue county, 
 Kentucky, a red, scrawny, little " man-child " 
 entered upon a rather rough existence in this 
 " vale of tears." 
 
 That the Lincolns were " po' whites," no 
 one can deny, for not a plantation negro but 
 had more to eat and wear than they, while the 
 father could neither read nor write his name. 
 
 At that period of our commonwealth, too, 
 all manufactured articles were so scarce and so 
 expensive that, like many others, they were 
 forced to use thorns for pins ; substitute bits of 
 bone and slices of corn cob for buttons; grind 
 up crusts of rye bread for coffee and drink as 
 tea a decoction made from dried currant leaves. 
 
 Who, then, that a few years later saw the 
 tall, long-legged, ungainly son of Thomas Lin- 
 coln, running about in bare or moccasined feet 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 (he never wore shoes until a grown man), clad 
 in deer-skin breeches and leggings, a shirt of 
 homespun cotton or wool, and with his head 
 covered by a coon-skin cap, the tail of which 
 hung down his back, would ever have dreamed 
 that he was destined to become not only the 
 head of the nation, but the pilot of the Ship of 
 State through the most troublous waters it has 
 ever known ! 
 
 " All that I am or hope to be I owe to my 
 angel mother," Abraham Lincoln was wont to 
 say in after years, so we must believe that 
 Nancy Hanks Lincoln was a rare woman to 
 have thus left her impress on his young charac- 
 ter, at so early an age; since she died before he 
 reached his ninth birthday and shortly after 
 they had all left their " old Kentucky home " 
 to build for themselves a log cabin in the wilds 
 of Indiana. But at that mother's knee he had 
 learned to read and already absorbed the Bible, 
 " iEsop's Fables," and the " Pilgrim's Prog- 
 ress," the three books which formed the literary 
 taste of our sixteenth President. 
 
 They awakened in him an insatiable thirst 
 for learning, so he would walk miles to borrow 
 a wished-for volume, and as paper was an al- 
 most unknown luxury, copy out such passages 
 as struck him, on a smooth shingle, with a piece 
 156 
 
The Lincoln Lads 
 
 of charcoal. On boards, also, he tried his 
 " 'prentice hand " at essay writing and verse 
 making. 
 
 Much, too, did he owe to his stepmother, 
 a thrifty, energetic woman who, after a year of 
 motherless desolation, brought cheer and com- 
 parative comfort to the home of shiftless 
 Thomas and his little ones — Sarah, Abe, and a 
 young orphan cousin named Dennis Hanks. 
 
 Out there in the wild woods, then, chopping 
 rails and lumber, young Abraham cultivated 
 both his mind and muscle, while he grew and 
 grew into a long, lank youth, standing six feet 
 four inches in his moccasins. When, too, at 
 seventeen, he heard the address of a famous 
 lawyer at a murder trial, it aroused his sleep- 
 ing genius and decided his future career on the 
 spot. From that day on he would " speechify," 
 as he called it, on all occasions, while the gap- 
 ing rustics clustered round to listen, and his 
 father grumbled — " When Abe begins to 
 speak, all hands flock to hear him." 
 
 Never had he more than a year of regular 
 schooling in all his life, but Dame Fortune 
 seems ever to crown with her choicest laurels 
 the hard-earned knowledge gained by the light 
 of pine knots, for it is the most thorough a 
 man can possess. So he almost learned his 
 157 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 Blackstone by heart and, after trying a dozen 
 different trades, was able to " hang out his 
 shingle " and start in to practise law at Spring- 
 field, Illinois. 
 
 It was in that pleasant little Western city, 
 then, that he henceforth made his home, and 
 there he married a sprightly but most eccentric 
 girl who, from a child, had declared she should 
 some day be the wife of a President. Mary 
 Todd was the daughter of Dr. Todd of Ken- 
 tucky, but at the time of her marriage with Mr. 
 Lincoln, lived with a sister in Springfield, and 
 there their four boys were born, while unex- 
 pected honors crowded thick and fast upon the 
 young husband. The big, homely, but ever 
 kindly backwoodsman had the gift of winning 
 friends and his whimsical jokes and stories were 
 passed from mouth to mouth and laughed over 
 by all classes. 
 
 His admirers sent him to the State Legisla- 
 ture and then to Congress. This set his feet 
 in the political pathway, and at the birth of the 
 Republican party in Illinois, he was prime coun- 
 sellor. His advice was: "Let us in building 
 our new party, make our corner stone the Dec- 
 laration of Independence. Let us build on this 
 rock and the gates of hell shall not prevail 
 against us." 
 
 158 
 
 
The Lincoln Lads 
 
 Having, years before, had his sympathies 
 stirred by the Slave Market at New Orleans, 
 he now threw himself, heart and soul, into the 
 movement for the freedom of the black man, 
 and, when a successor for the cultured, highly- 
 polished gentleman, James Buchanan, was 
 spoken of, the name of plain, self-taught, honest 
 Abe Lincoln stood out first and foremost. 
 Could extremes have more completely met? 
 
 But it is in the home life of " Father Abra- 
 ham," we are most interested and it was to 
 that home his thoughts at once reverted when 
 privately informed that he was the leader in 
 the race. 
 
 His first words were: "There's a little 
 woman down at our house would like to hear 
 this. I'll go down and tell her." And off he 
 hurried to the two-story frame dwelling, where 
 wife and children were anxiously awaiting the 
 glad tidings. 
 
 The four sons of Abraham and Mary Todd 
 Lincoln were named Robert, Edward, William 
 and Thomas. Of these Edward died in in- 
 fancy, but three lived to become illustrious 
 boys of the White House. 
 
 Robert Lincoln was considerably older than 
 his younger surviving brothers, and was much 
 away at school in those Springfield days just be- 
 159 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 fore the war, going first to Phillip's Academy 
 at Exeter and then to Harvard. 
 
 But when the committee from the National 
 Convention waited upon Mr. Lincoln to inform 
 him officially of his nomination, they were met 
 in the courtyard by two manly little lads, who 
 welcomed them with a courteous " Good even- 
 ing, gentlemen." 
 
 "Are you Mr. Lincoln's son?" asked Mr. 
 Evarts of New York, addressing the elder. 
 
 " Yes sir," replied the youth. 
 
 " Then let's shake hands," and all began 
 greeting him so warmly that the jealousy of the 
 younger boy, who was standing by the gatepost, 
 was excited and he sang out: " I'm a Lincoln, 
 too." 
 
 At this the delegates laughed heartily and at 
 once saluted the youngest of the family, the one 
 whom honest Abe called " Tadpole," a name 
 that became quickly contracted into " Taddie," 
 and " Tad." 
 
 These lads were about ten and eight when 
 their father was elected President of the United 
 States, and they were full of glee at going with 
 him to Washington. 
 
 William Wallace has been called " the flower 
 of the family," and he seems to have been a 
 delicate, studious little fellow, with literary 
 160 
 
The Lincoln Lads 
 
 tastes and peculiarly winning ways. There 
 was, however, a strong spice of his parent's 
 humor in his composition and he was not back- 
 ward in joining in any fun started by small, 
 mischievous Tad. 
 
 He would often sit for hours by his mother's 
 side, poring over a book, and while in the White 
 House he began scribbling some of his boyish 
 thoughts on paper. At length, too, he ventured 
 to send the following little poem to the editor 
 of the " National Republican," who gladly pub- 
 lished it: 
 
 LINES ON THE DEATH OF COLONEL 
 EDWARD BAKER 
 
 " There was no patriot like Baker, 
 So noble and so true ; 
 He fell as a soldier on the field, 
 His face to the sky of blue. 
 
 His voice is silent in the hall 
 
 Which oft his presence graced; 
 No more he'll hear the loud acclaim 
 
 Which rung from place to place. 
 
 No squeamish notions filled his breast — 
 
 The Union was his theme; 
 No surrender and no compromise, 
 
 His day thought and night's dream. 
 161 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 His country has her part to play 
 To'rds those he has left behind; 
 
 His widow and his children all 
 She must always keep in mind." 
 
 It was in the White House, too, that he 
 passed away in the height of his happy, promis- 
 ing boyhood, and just when the War of the Re- 
 bellion was raging with greatest fierceness. He 
 contracted a severe cold, riding on his little pony 
 in inclement weather; typhoid fever set in, and 
 day by day he grew more white and wan, until 
 at last his gentle spirit fled, and his pretty 
 brown head was laid " under the sod and the 
 dew," while never was lad more truly mourned. 
 
 He had been his mother's favorite child, but 
 she gave away everything that could remind her 
 of him, and never again entered the chamber 
 where he died or the Blue Room where he lay 
 in his little casket. 
 
 Long afterward, too, President Lincoln, in 
 reading Shakespeare's " King John " to a mili- 
 tary friend, closed with Constance's pathetic 
 wail: 
 
 " ' And, Father Cardinal, I have heard that 
 we shall see and know our friends in heaven. 
 If that be true, I shall see my boy again.' " 
 
 Then, looking up, he said: 
 162 
 
The Lincoln Lads 
 
 " Colonel, did you ever dream of a lost 
 friend, and feel that you were holding sweet 
 communion with that friend, and yet have a sad 
 consciousness that it was not a reality? Just 
 so I dream of my boy Willie." 
 
 At which, overcome by emotion, he dropped 
 his head on the table and sobbed aloud. 
 
 After this bereavement Tad became more 
 than ever his father's pet and ran freely in and 
 out of the public offices, while at the War De- 
 partment he was made much of by men and of- 
 ficers. He was afflicted with an impediment in 
 his speech, but this only seemed to endear him 
 the more to his parents, and may also have 
 been the reason why he was not sent to school. 
 Apparently, indeed, his education was very 
 much neglected, for he never even learned to 
 read until after leaving Washington. 
 
 He was an odd little chap, extremely affec- 
 tionate, but mischievous as a monkey, and, I 
 fear, sometimes almost as unreasonable. 
 
 In an unoccupied apartment of the White 
 House he fitted up a miniature theatre, with 
 stage, curtains, orchestra, stalls and parquette, 
 all complete, and was highly indignant when 
 one day he found it taken possession of by some 
 photographers who had come to take views of 
 the government buildings and wished there to 
 163 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 develop their plates. He made a great uproar 
 and, locking the door, pocketed the key, leaving 
 all the chemicals inside. 
 
 Coaxing and persuasion were of no avail. 
 
 " They have no business in my room, and shall 
 not go in, even to get their things," he declared. 
 
 At last the President, who was sitting for his 
 picture, heard of the difficulty. 
 
 " Tad, go and unlock that door," he com- 
 manded mildly. 
 
 But my young man refused, marching off to 
 his mother's chamber instead; nor could the 
 photographers continue their work until his 
 father went after him and brought back the de- 
 sired article. Later, however, Mr. Lincoln re- 
 marked : 
 
 " Tad is a peculiar child. He was violently 
 excited when I went to him. I said c Tad, do 
 you know you are making your father a great 
 deal of trouble ? ' At which he burst into tears, 
 instantly giving me the key." 
 
 That his youngest boy was often on the great 
 man's mind is shown by the many times he re- 
 ferred to him in the telegrams and letters to 
 his wife when parted during the summer 
 months. 
 
 Thus in August, 1864, he wired — " All rea- 
 164 
 
The Lincoln Lads 
 
 sonably well. Bob not here yet. How is dear 
 Tad?" 
 
 And again: 
 
 " All well, including Tad's pony and the 
 goats." 
 
 While a third message read: 
 
 " Think you had better put Tad's pistol 
 away. I had an ugly dream about him." 
 
 On another occasion, too, he wrote to Mrs. 
 Lincoln : 
 
 " Tell dear Tad poor Nanny goat is lost. 
 . . . The day you left Nanny was found 
 resting herself and chewing her little cud on the 
 middle of Tad's bed, but now she's gone." 
 
 The devotion between. the two was deep and 
 sympathetic, and the little lad was always Mr. 
 Lincoln's companion on his trips down the Poto- 
 mac, and was beside him, clinging to his hand, 
 when, after peace was declared, he made his en- 
 thusiastic entry into Richmond. He was a very 
 miserable urchin, though, when the White 
 House stables were burned, and the precious 
 ponies given to him and Willie, as well as the 
 carriage horses, perished in the flames. He 
 threw himself howling upon the floor and re- 
 fused to be comforted. 
 
 Meanwhile, Robert Todd Lincoln, the eldest 
 
 i6 5 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 son, was pursuing his studies at Cambridge, al- 
 though he made frequent visits home, and was 
 most anxious to leave college and join the army. 
 
 This he eventually did, was given the rank 
 of Captain, and served on Grant's staff until 
 the close of the war. He was a brave youth, 
 of quiet, reserved manners, but lofty soul, who 
 rather scorned the follies of fashionable society 
 and, after his father's tragic death, proved his 
 mother's mainstay and consolation. 
 
 When Mr. Lincoln was inaugurated the sec- 
 ond time, in 1865, it is said that a brilliant star 
 was seen at noonday, which appeared a bright 
 augury of the peace that ere long descended 
 upon the land, and it was a joyful moment for 
 the President when the conflict was finally de- 
 clared at an end. 
 
 On Good Friday morning he said to Captain 
 Bob: 
 
 " Well, my son, you have returned safely 
 from the front, and now you must lay aside your 
 uniform and return to college. I wish you to 
 read law for three years, and at the end of that 
 time I hope we will be able to tell whether you 
 will make a lawyer or not." 
 
 Turning to his wife, too, he remarked: " We 
 must both be more cheerful in future. Be- 
 166 
 
The Lincoln Lads 
 
 tween the war and the loss of our darling Willie 
 we have been very miserable." 
 
 That night the great heart of the loving, con- 
 siderate parent, the forgiving patriot, was stilled 
 forever by the assassin's bullet, and the whole 
 nation stood aghast. 
 
 Robert rose manfully to the occasion, but 
 poor little Tad was almost frantic. For twenty- 
 four hours he crouched at the foot of his moth- 
 er's bed, a world of agony in his young face, 
 and sobbed inconsolably. But when the Easter 
 sun burst forth in glorious splendor on Sunday 
 morning, it seemed to bring him a ray of com- 
 fort. Of a caller he asked: 
 
 " Do you think my father has gone to 
 heaven? " 
 
 " I have not a doubt of it," was the gentle- 
 man's prompt reply. 
 
 " Then," he stammered, in his broken way, 
 " I am glad he has gone there; for he never 
 was happy after he came here. This was not 
 a good place for him." 
 
 From that moment he was calmer, and was 
 the only one who could quiet Mrs. Lincoln's 
 wild grief, often pattering into her room at 
 night to beg : 
 
 " Don't cry, mama ! I cannot sleep if you 
 167 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 cry. Papa was good, and he has gone to 
 heaven. He is happy there." 
 
 Five weejcs after the assassination the Lin- 
 colns left the White House for a modest hotel 
 at Hyde Park, one of the suburbs of Chicago. 
 It was a great change, but " necessity knows no 
 law," and the family of the late President was 
 far from rich. A pension was later granted 
 to Mrs. Lincoln, but with all her troubles what 
 wonder the poor woman's mind gave way, es- 
 pecially when loving little Tad, at eighteen, also 
 went to be, as he once said, " with father and 
 brother Willie in heaven." 
 
 So Robert is the only one remaining of all 
 the bright Lincoln lads. He faithfully carried 
 out the President's last wish for him and studied 
 law, but he served as Secretary of War during 
 Mr. Arthur's administration, and has also rep- 
 resented the United States at the Court of St. 
 James. He is a worthy son of a great father 
 and has performed all the duties of his high 
 offices with marked ability. 
 
 16S 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 SOME LITTLE PEOPLE FROM TENNESSEE 
 
 A FEW years ago one of the leading peri- 
 odicals of the day printed the love story 
 of a humble tailor in the little North 
 Carolina town of Laurens. There, the young 
 man delved sedulously at his trade, making, 
 among others, a coat for a prominent lawyer 
 and politician, Henry C. Young, and that gar- 
 ment is still treasured by his descendants, who 
 proudly display it as a work of a President of 
 the United States. 
 
 There, too, he met and fell in love with a 
 Miss Sarah Worth. They became engaged and 
 a pretty picture is drawn of the youthful pair 
 working together over a quilting-frame, laying, 
 stuffing and quilting a patchwork spread, while 
 on either end the lover wrought in the letters 
 S. W., the initials of his sweetheart's name. 
 
 When, too, he was called away from that 
 part of the country he left with her his " goose " 
 169 
 
Boys and Girls of the White Ho use 
 
 — the emblem of his trade — as a parting sou- 
 venir. 
 
 Misunderstandings arising later, the engage- 
 ment was broken and the young lady married 
 another; but her granddaughter still retains the 
 clumsy iron with which Tailor Johnson pressed 
 his coats and trousers, and which he presented 
 to her ancestress. 
 
 This lady scouts the idea of Andrew John- 
 son being so illiterate, but the popular story 
 runs that, left fatherless at the age of four, and 
 apprenticed to a tailor when only ten, his edu- 
 cation was chiefly picked up from a fellow-work- 
 man who taught him the alphabet, until after 
 his marriage with Miss Eliza McCardle, a re- 
 fined girl of seventeen, who gave him lessons 
 in writing and ciphering, besides reading im- 
 proving books aloud to him, while he cut out 
 and sewed. 
 
 They set up housekeeping in the little moun- 
 tain town of Greenville, in Tennessee, and, ever 
 ambitious, the young husband took for his motto 
 " Upward and Onward," and, launching into 
 local politics, rose step by step, until he reached 
 the State Senate, represented his district for ten 
 years in Congress, was twice elected Governor 
 of Tennessee, then Vice-President, and finally a 
 170 
 
Some Little People from Tennessee 
 
 grievous chance landed him in the White' House 
 itself. 
 
 Surely, then, no boy, however humble his 
 birth or meagre his advantages, need despair 
 of getting on in the world when he considers 
 the phenomenal career of our seventeenth Pres- 
 ident. 
 
 Up in that plain, little home set on a hill, 
 and within a stone's throw of the tailor-shop, 
 two daughters and three sons were born to the 
 Johnsons and grew up into healthy, hearty girls 
 and boys, early inured to hardships, but given 
 as good educations as the times and the family 
 purse would permit. 
 
 Martha, the eldest, is remembered as a plain, 
 quiet little maid of whom it was said " she never 
 had time to play." But that was because she 
 always had some household task to perform 
 and took such almost motherly care of the 
 younger children. They hardly knew how to 
 get on without her when she was sent for three 
 terms to a school at Georgetown, D. C, and 
 while there she often spent her holidays at the 
 Executive Mansion, being the guest of President 
 and Mrs. Polk. 
 
 At these times she kept her eyes open and was 
 keenly observant of the people and customs of 
 171 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 the capital, although she was so shy and distant 
 that all the stately kindness of her hostess could 
 not overcome her painful reserve, and she, her- 
 self, would deprecate her awkward conduct in 
 the imposing residence through which the voices 
 of childhood never resounded. Little, then, did 
 the bashful schoolgirl dream she should ever 
 enter those portals as mistress and daughter 
 of the White House. Gladly, too, she returned 
 to her home and some years after wedded Judge 
 David T. Patterson in the most quiet manner 
 possible. 
 
 Flaxen-haired Mary, the second girl, was 
 even more diffident than her sister, although she 
 inherited a greater share of the beauty of her 
 mother and grandmother, who had been belles 
 of the county. She was extremely domestic, 
 and at an early age became Mrs. Daniel Stover. 
 
 Of the boys, Charlie was the darling of the 
 household, a bright-spirited youth, who studied 
 to be a physician, and when the war broke out, 
 was appointed a surgeon in the First Tennessee 
 Infantry. Robert, too, is said to have been 
 the most popular boy ever raised in that part 
 of the country and that he never made an enemy 
 in his life, while, of course, there was a little 
 Andrew Johnson, Jr., who was but a laddie of 
 twelve when his father became President. 
 172 
 
Some Little People from Tennessee 
 
 The gentle mother was always in rather deli- 
 cate health, so she could never spend but two 
 months with her husband, when he was in 
 Washington attending to his Congressional du- 
 ties. She greatly preferred her own home and 
 was very happy surrounded by her children and 
 grandchildren, but the War of the Rebellion 
 brought troublous times throughout all the 
 South, and to none more than to the Republicans 
 of Greenville. 
 
 Consternation, then, reigned in the Johnson 
 household — from which the husband and 
 father had long been absent — when, one April 
 day in 1862, an order came commanding the 
 entire family to pass beyond the Confederate 
 lines within thirty-six hours. 
 
 Even the little folks must have been alarmed, 
 but Mrs. Johnson was too ill to be moved, the 
 state of their affairs was most unsettled, and 
 they knew not where to go. So, though doubt- 
 less with fear and trembling, they ventured to 
 disobey, writing to the military authorities for 
 more time, and remained in the old brick home- 
 stead all throughout that dread summer. 
 
 But with the coming of September they felt 
 
 they could delay no longer, and procuring a pass, 
 
 the mother, with her family and her son-in-law, 
 
 Mr. Stover, left their native mountains, and, 
 
 173 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 after experiencing untold discomforts and dan- 
 gers, finally reached Nashville, where Mr. John- 
 son was located as War Governor. 
 
 An extract from a diary kept by a citizen of 
 the state capital reads: 
 
 " Quite a sensation has been produced by the 
 arrival in Nashville of Governor Johnson's fam- 
 ily, after incurring and escaping numerous perils 
 while making their exodus from East Tennessee. 
 The male members of the family were in danger 
 of being hung on more than one occasion. 
 
 The great joy of the reunion of this long 
 and sorrowfully separated family may be im- 
 agined. I will not attempt to describe it. 
 Even the Governor's Roman firmness was over- 
 come, and he wept tears of thankfulness at this 
 merciful deliverance of his beloved ones from 
 the hands of their unpitying persecutors." 
 
 Many, too, can still remember the happy 
 faces of the grandchildren — little Pattersons 
 and Stovers — as they played about the capital. 
 
 Here Mrs. Martha Patterson soon joined 
 them and all were rejoicing over the reunion, 
 when a cruel blow came in the sudden death of 
 " dear Charlie." The young doctor started out 
 one morning on his professional rounds and, en- 
 countering a horse belonging to a brother officer, 
 174 
 
Some Little People from Tennessee 
 
 sprang upon its back. He had gone but a short 
 distance, however, when the high-mettled ani- 
 mal reared upon its hind legs and the young 
 man, thrown violently backward upon the 
 frozen ground, was instantly killed, his skull be- 
 ing fractured. 
 
 As misfortunes, too, seldom come singly, a 
 few months later Mary's husband was slain in 
 battle, leaving her a trio of little children under 
 ten years of age — two daughters, Sarah and 
 Lillie, and one boy, named for his grandfather. 
 
 How gladly the Johnsons welcomed the re- 
 turn of peace no one can know, and they 
 were just preparing to flee back to their moun- 
 tains when the dastardly shot fired by John 
 Wilkes Booth in the theatre at Washington, 
 struck down the " man of destiny," who had 
 steered the Ship of State into a quiet harbor, 
 and placed the plain tailor of Tennessee at the 
 head of the nation. 
 
 Very quietly was Andrew Johnson inaugu- 
 rated, the same morning that Lincoln passed 
 away, and no bands of music, no cheers and no 
 ceremonial ushered him into the Home of the 
 Presidents. 
 
 It was a most difficult position, too, he was 
 called upon to fill. It was hopeless to try and 
 satisfy his party and — a Southern man with 
 175 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 Northern principles — he just struggled through 
 his term of office, with small satisfaction or suc- 
 cess. 
 
 Frail Mrs. Johnson shrank with horror from 
 the honor thus thrust upon her; so it was the one 
 who had ever been her " right hand," her dear 
 eldest child, who stepped in and filled the breach. 
 Diffident Martha Patterson sacrificed her own 
 feelings and, after allowing Mrs. Lincoln five 
 weeks of mourning within the now desolate 
 mansion, appeared with her father at Washing- 
 ton, bringing with her her young son Andrew, 
 and little daughter Belle, to be the children of 
 the White House. 
 
 Republican simplicity, too, reigned there, for, 
 as she said to a newspaper correspondent : " We 
 are a plain people, sir, from the mountains of 
 Tennessee, and we do not propose to put on airs 
 because we have the fortune to occupy this place 
 for a little while." 
 
 Mrs. Mary Stover soon followed her sister 
 and assisted her at all large functions, but she 
 cared far more for their private apartments, 
 where the fast aging mother pursued the " even 
 tenor of her way," and where her three children 
 and their Patterson cousins made merry to- 
 gether. 
 
 So, again, as in the days of Jackson, a bevy 
 176 
 
Some Little People from Tennessee 
 
 of gay little Andys overran the old residence. 
 For, clustered about President Andrew Johnson 
 and perpetuating his name, were Andrew John- 
 son, Jr., his youngest son, a boy just entering 
 his teens, and his grandsons — Andrew Johnson 
 Patterson and Andrew Johnson Stover; all of 
 whom, with their sisters, had very happy and 
 sometimes very boisterous times within the 
 historic walls. 
 
 The daily routine of school lessons and music 
 practice was carried on the same as in their 
 country home, but in the evenings games, danc- 
 ing and innocent fun " sped the hours with fly- 
 ing feet," and it was no uncommon sight to see 
 the President, in smoking-jacket and slippers, 
 assisting the children to roast apples at the open 
 fire, while a generous jug of cider simmered on 
 the hearth. 
 
 In warm weather, too, he delighted to bundle 
 all the small fry into a carriage and drive off to 
 Pierce's Mill, Rock Creek, or some other rural 
 spot, and there hold a picnic — the little folk 
 fishing, wading and gathering flowers, while 
 they always returned laden with blossoms and 
 wild wood trophies. 
 
 Their mode of living was, perhaps, almost 
 too plain for the ruler of a great nation, but 
 President Johnson was always rather ostenta- 
 177 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 tious in talking about his plebeian origin and 
 what he owned to the People; and Mrs. Patter- 
 son was not ashamed to rise early, skim the milk 
 and attend to the dairy before breakfast; while, 
 doubtless, many of the delicious home-made 
 dishes which graced the table were prepared by 
 her hands. 
 
 On all state occasions, however, she ever ap- 
 peared extremely well and richly dressed and 
 presided with dignity and tact. The Govern- 
 ment, too, certainly owed her a vote of thanks 
 for the time and trouble she gave to the refur- 
 nishing of the White House. 
 
 At the close of the war, the Mansion was in 
 a sadly run-down condition. Soldiers had wan- 
 dered at will through the suites of rooms, and 
 guards slept upon the sofas. The walls were 
 dingy, the antique furniture soiled and worn. 
 i\t the first reception it was difficult to make the 
 place presentable. The thread-bare carpets had 
 to be covered with linen, and, as one writer has 
 said : " The apartments were destitute of orna- 
 ment save two kinds, which are more touchingly 
 beautiful than gems of the East. Natural 
 flowers were in profusion, and left their fra- 
 grance, while the little children of the house 
 were living, breathing ornaments, attracting 
 every eye." 
 
 178 
 
Some Little People from Tennessee 
 
 In the spring of 1866, however, Congress 
 made an appropriation of thirty thousand dol- 
 lars for the re-furnishing of the Presidential 
 Home, and all through the warm months Mrs. 
 Patterson labored, trying to make this sum go 
 as far as possible; selecting the carpets, having 
 the furniture re-upholstered and superintending 
 the decoration of the vast apartments. The 
 exquisite Blue Room was long a proof of her 
 artistic taste. 
 
 After this, juvenile parties were quite a fea- 
 ture of the Republican Court, but the very larg- 
 est of all was one given by Andrew Johnson, 
 himself, to celebrate his sixtieth birthday. 
 
 It was a holiday ball, given on December 
 30, 1868, just after his last Christmas in the 
 White House, and the tiny beaux and belles 
 of the capital were in a flutter of excitement at 
 receiving an invitation from " The President of 
 the United States." Four hundred boys and 
 girls were bidden and you may be sure there 
 were few who failed to make a bow or curtsey 
 to the Head of the Nation, his daughter and 
 grandchildren on the festal night. 
 
 This was one of the two occasions when 
 Grandma Johnson made her appearance in pub- 
 lic. She sat in a great chair of ebony and satin, 
 beaming upon the blithe young company, and 
 179 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 when the guests were presented to her, smiled 
 and apologized for not rising by saying: " My 
 dears, I am an invalid." 
 
 Many of these little people were pupils at 
 Marini's Dancing Academy, so there were gay 
 waltzes, polkas and lanciers in the big East 
 Room, as well as most wonderful fancy dances. 
 
 Pretty Belle Patterson was one of the most 
 graceful dancers, and some of the boys were 
 Very expert in the " Highland Fling " and 
 " Sailor's Hornpipe "; but the star performers 
 of the evening were small Miss Keen, a particu- 
 lar friend of the White House girls, and little 
 Miss Gaburri, who gave a Spanish dance, in 
 a Spanish costume, all a-glitter with sequins. 
 
 At the end, old and young, big youths and 
 tiny tots, all scampered merrily through a " Vir- 
 ginia reel," and then came the grand march 
 to the dining-room, where a flower-decked and 
 beautifully-ornamented table stood, laden with 
 cakes, creams and confections — the "real 
 party " to the wee folk. 
 
 So these " plain people from Tennessee " 
 came to be much beloved by those who knew 
 them best. The servants simply adored them 
 and wept unrestrained, when called to bid them 
 farewell, while a scribe of that period has 
 recorded of the little Pattersons and Stovers: 
 180 
 
Some Little People from Tennessee 
 
 " No President ever before had in the White 
 House so many children, or as youthful ones as 
 were the five grandchildren of President John- 
 son, nor will there ever be a brighter band 
 there." 
 
 Too young were the Andrews, Belle, Sarah 
 and Lillie to comprehend the cares resting upon 
 their mothers, or the troubles which beset their 
 grandfather until he only just escaped impeach- 
 ment. So they were scarcely as pleased as their 
 elders when the Johnson administration drew to 
 a close and they returned to their mountain 
 home. Not long after, Mary — the little 
 Stover's mother — married a Mr. Bacon and 
 they removed to a new domicile in Carter 
 county. It was at her house, too, that the tailor 
 President was stricken with paralysis and 
 " passed on," six months before his wife, who 
 had been in frail health so many years. Indeed, 
 the invalid not only outlived her husband, but 
 her son Robert, as well, until, at last, young 
 Andy Johnson was the sole child remaining 
 with her in the old home nest, 'neath the ragged 
 hilly peaks of East Tennessee. 
 
 181 
 
CHAPTE XVI 
 
 THE YOUNG GRANTS 
 
 A PHRENOLOGIST had made his ap- 
 pearance in the insignificant little town 
 of Georgetown, in Ohio, and was as- 
 tonishing the natives by feeling the " bumps " on 
 their craniums and revealing their character- 
 istics. 
 
 " You go and be examined, 'Lyssus," said old 
 Dr. B — , pushing forward a round-shouldered, 
 freckle-faced, sober little urchin with straight, 
 sandy hair and bright blue eyes. 
 
 Before he knew it, then, the boy was in front 
 of the scientific man and his fingers were mov- 
 ing slowly over his scalp. 
 
 " This is no very common head," murmured 
 the phrenologist, half to himself. " It is an 
 extraordinary head ! " 
 
 " Indeed," quoth the doctor. 
 
 " And do you think he is ever likely to dis- 
 tinguish himself in mathematics?" 
 
 " Yes," was the reply. " In mathematics or 
 182 
 
The Young Grants 
 
 anything else. It would not be strange if we 
 should see him President of the United States." 
 
 At this a roar of laughter arose from the 
 crowd of bystanders. 
 
 " 'Lyss Grant, the tanner's son, a Presi- 
 dent! " 
 
 " Useless Grant," as he was dubbed, " in the 
 White House! Ha, ha, ha! " 
 
 The idea was absurd ! 
 
 I think, probably, Hiram Ulysses Grant gig- 
 gled himself; but, if not a very bright scholar, 
 he was possessed of a certain dogged obstinacy 
 or persistence — what we call " stick-to-it-ive- 
 ness," which won him out, many a time and oft. 
 
 As, for instance, when, at twelve years of 
 age, he beat the men of the town at a job of 
 stone-lifting. 
 
 A new building was going up and a huge 
 boulder from White Oak Creek was selected 
 for the doorstep. For hours the workmen 
 tugged and hauled at it, but, at length, con- 
 cluded it was too heavy to lift and they must 
 give it up. 
 
 " Here, let me try," said young 'Lyss, who 
 was driving the ox-team. " If you'll help me, 
 I'll load it." 
 
 They jeered at him, but promised their as- 
 sistance. Then the lad directed the laborers to 
 - 183 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 prop up one end of the stone. They did so and 
 " chocked " it, after which Ulysses backed the 
 cart over the great rock, slung it underneath 
 the wagon by chains, hoisted up the other end 
 in the same manner, and, at last, drove off with 
 it, in triumph, to the town. 
 
 To-day, that very stone is set in the sidewalk 
 at Georgetown and pointed out as the one which 
 General Grant, when a boy, hauled from White 
 Oak Creek. 
 
 Young Ulysses was no genius. He was just 
 a healthy, commonplace, everyday lad, loving 
 fishing, swimming and skating far better than 
 his books and hating the work he was called 
 upon to do in the tannery. But he was always 
 good at arithmetic and he could ride and drive 
 a horse better than any youth in all that coun- 
 try round. Indeed, horses were his passion, 
 and he was mighty keen at " horse-trading," 
 making quite a bit of money thereby. 
 
 He was not, then, particularly overjoyed 
 when one year on his return from boarding- 
 school for his Christmas holidays, his father in- 
 formed him that he had applied for an appoint- 
 ment for him to West Point. 
 
 Perhaps he hoped he would not get it, but he 
 did. He also easily passed his examination, 
 184 
 
The Young Grants 
 
 and the following fall found him at the Mili- 
 tary Academy on the Hudson. 
 
 By some mistake, his appointment was made 
 out to Ulysses Simpson Grant; his classmates 
 nicknamed him " Uncle Sam," and as " Sam 
 Grant " he was known through all his cadet 
 days, while he was U. S. Grant forever after. 
 
 He struggled through his four years' course, 
 though without distinguishing himself in any 
 way, unless it was for cavalry tactics and horse- 
 manship — for a famous high jump of his, on 
 a big sorrel, over a bar six feet from the ground, 
 is still marked and shown as " Grant's upon 
 York." 
 
 Graduated in June of 1843, ne was assigned 
 to the Fourth Regiment of United States In- 
 fantry, then stationed at Jefferson Barracks, a 
 few miles from St. Louis, and, what was more 
 important to the fledgeling soldier, near to 
 " Whitehaven," the country home of one of his 
 classmates, and, while visiting there, he lost his 
 heart to this chum's sister, Miss Julia Dent, a 
 bright, sensible girl, full of life and spirits. 
 
 The course of true love, however, did not run 
 
 exactly smooth, as Judge Dent hoped for a more 
 
 brilliant match for his daughter, and was rather 
 
 pleased when the poor lieutenant was ordered 
 
 185 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 off to frontier duty under General Taylor. 
 
 But, hearing that his regiment was to pro- 
 ceed to Mexico, was just the " push " the young 
 man needed to put his fate to the test, and, hur- 
 rying off to Whitehaven, he found Miss Julia 
 seated in a small carriage with her brother, just 
 starting for a wedding at some distance off. 
 
 Persuading young Dent to ride his horse in- 
 stead, Grant slipped into his place beside the 
 bonny maiden and, taking the reins, they set off 
 across the rough Missourian roads. 
 
 Now it chanced that the river Gravois, which 
 they had to cross, had been much swollen by 
 heavy rains and the frail bridge which spanned 
 it was nearly submerged with a wild and turbid 
 flood. 
 
 Miss Julia eyed this in alarm and inquired 
 anxiously — " Are you sure it is all right? " 
 
 " Oh yes, it is all right," the lieutenant as- 
 sured her, in careless man-fashion. 
 
 " Well, now, Ulysses," she said, " I am going 
 to cling to you if we go down." 
 
 " We won't go down," he replied, and drove 
 straight through the water, with the frightened 
 girl clinging to his arm all the way. 
 
 When safe on the other side, she drew a long 
 breath of relief, but the young man was very 
 silent for some time. Then, clearing his throat. 
 186 
 
The Young Grants 
 
 he said: " Julia, you spoke just now of cling- 
 ing to me no matter what happened. I wonder 
 if you would cling to me all my life." 
 
 Her answer we know not, but conclude it was 
 satisfactory, since she was true through a long, 
 five years' engagement, when her soldier lover 
 was away in Mexico, during which time he 
 saved her brother's life and thereby won his 
 fiancee's family over to his side. 
 
 So, one summer day, there was a merry little 
 wedding in St. Louis, and, a few months after, 
 they went to housekeeping in a tiny, vine-cov- 
 ered cottage, nigh the barracks at Detroit. 
 Their first child, however, was born at White- 
 haven, and christened Frederick Dent. 
 
 But an army man has no settled home, and 
 when Lieutenant Grant was ordered to the, then, 
 very far distant territory of California, he de- 
 cided to leave his wife and baby with his par- 
 ents, in Ohio, while he crossed the hot, sickly 
 Isthmus of Panama, and, with seven hundred 
 others, made his way to that rough coast, where 
 the Gold Craze was just then at its height and 
 to which crowds of adventurers were flocking 
 to dig for the shining metal. 
 
 The chief thing he found to fight was the 
 cholera, which attacked them on the way, and 
 this he met, as he had every enemy, bravely and 
 187 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 cheerfully, taking entire charge of the plague- 
 stricken camp, caring for the sick and burying 
 the dead. ., 
 
 But the three years of inaction which followed 
 near to the Golden Gate wearied him of army 
 life, and, though now a Captain, he resigned 
 and gladly sped back to " the States," and his 
 little family, where there was now another wee 
 laddie to welcome him, born during his absence, 
 and whom his wife had named Ulysses after 
 him. Fine rolly-poly little fellows were both 
 Fred and 'Lyssus, Jr., while, ere long, there 
 came a tiny girl, Nellie, and a baby, Jesse, to 
 complete the Grant quartette. 
 
 But as mouths to fill increased the father's 
 fortunes seemed to wane. Erecting a log house 
 on a farm which Judge Dent presented to his 
 daughter, he there fought poverty with plough 
 and axe for several years, while his wife did the 
 work within doors and was her children's sole 
 nurse and teacher. Yet, the young Grants were 
 happy enough, racing over the sixty acres of 
 farmland at " Hardscrabble," as the place was 
 appropriately called, and riding the gray and 
 the bay, their parents' pet team of fine horses. 
 
 But, somehow, Captain Grant could not make 
 farming pay, nor did he do much better at the 
 real estate business in St. Louis; so, after a 
 188 
 
The Young Grants 
 
 struggle of six years, the family moved to Ga- 
 lena, in Ohio, where he accepted a position in 
 his brother's leather store. And it was here 
 that his great opportunity came to him. 
 
 April the 12th, 1861, the day of the Fall of 
 Sumter, was the turning point in the life of the 
 quiet, downhearted man, who was, however, the 
 most affectionate of fathers. He would not al- 
 low his boys to use the smallest sort of swear- 
 word — as he never did himself — but he 
 wanted them to be manly, honest, fearless, self- 
 reliant and true. His eldest son he taught to 
 swim, by simply tossing him into deep water and 
 letting him get himself to shore. 
 
 President Lincoln's call for " seventy-five 
 thousand men to help put down this rebellion," 
 was his call to arms, and, being given the com- 
 mand of the Twenty-first Illinois regiment, he 
 was soon oft to the war. With him went his 
 boy Fred, and all through the conflict this lad 
 was his father's shadow — lived in his tent, ate 
 at his mess and rode by his side — a volunteer 
 aide-de-camp without pay, at thirteen years of 
 age. Was not that an experience for so young 
 a boy? But Fred Grant curiously resembled 
 his distinguished parent in his persistent stead- 
 fastness and afterward that father said: 
 
 " My son caused no anxiety either to me or 
 i8q 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 to his mother, who was at home. He looked 
 out for himself and was in every battle of the 
 campaign." 
 
 Uncomplainingly, too, he met every discom- 
 fort and privation, although illness pulled him 
 down from a hundred and ten to sixty-eight 
 pounds. 
 
 His heart, undoubtedly, glowed with pride at 
 his father's rapid advancement to the rank of 
 General and of the nickname he won at Fort 
 Donelson, the U. S. then being read " Uncon- 
 ditional Surrender " Grant. 
 
 He was with the camp on the eve of that 
 glorious Fourth of July, 1863, when Vicksburg 
 surrendered, and saw the arrival of the flag of 
 truce, and he has given us this description of it, 
 from his youthful point of view: 
 
 " The two staffs mingled and talked about 
 all sorts of things and I listened. I remember 
 how I wanted to lie down, for I had a tooth- 
 ache. The first thing I did after the surren- 
 der was to have that tooth pulled. My father 
 sat at his little desk. That was all there was in 
 the tent, except his cot and my cot, and the 
 bottom of his was broken and he had to stretch 
 his legs apart when he slept on it to keep him 
 from falling through. 
 
 " He began to write very hard and took 
 190 
 
The Young Grants 
 
 great interest in what he was writing. I lay on 
 the cot with my face in my hands. We were 
 alone and it was toward evening. At last there 
 came an orderly with a despatch. I remember 
 seeing my father open it. He got up and said: 
 ' We-e-e-11, I'm glad Vicksburg will surrender 
 to-morrow.' " 
 
 It did so, and the whole North rejoiced. 
 
 Eight months later, too, when Ulysses Grant 
 went to the White House at Washington to 
 meet President Lincoln for the first time and 
 receive from him the commission making him 
 Lieutenant-General of all the Armies of the 
 United States, he took with him his dear little 
 soldier boy, that he might share in his honor 
 and glory. I wonder, too, if Fred did not meet 
 funny little Tad Lincoln on that occasion, and if 
 the two lads did not compare notes together. 
 
 Meanwhile, during these anxious days, little 
 Nellie Grant and the two younger boys were 
 with their mother and grandparents, sometimes 
 in Missouri and sometimes in Ohio, and no one 
 in all the country rejoiced more than they when 
 at length the " cruel war was over," and papa 
 and Fred came " marching home again." 
 
 Schools for them, then, had to be thought of, 
 and it is said that General Grant escaped the 
 same fate as Abraham Lincoln by going on a 
 191 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 flying visit to his pet girl, at her Seminary, in 
 Burlington, N. J., instead of accompanying the 
 Presidential party to Ford's Theatre on that 
 dire Good Friday night, as had been expected. 
 
 A few years later, too, when the old phrenol- 
 ogist's prediction was fulfilled and he was made 
 President of the United States, this only daugh- 
 ter, then just in her " teens," stood by his side 
 holding his hand while he read his inaugural ad- 
 dress, and nearby sat his trio of brave boys as 
 well as the little woman who, true to her girlish 
 word, " clung to him " through all the ups and 
 downs of his varied career. 
 
 Now, on the very crest of the wave of good 
 fortune, they took possession of the Nation's 
 Homestead and a very happy household it was, 
 Mrs. Grant delighting in having old friends and 
 relatives with her and giving them a right royal 
 time. The first three years were, compara- 
 tively, quiet ones, Nellie and Ulysses being at 
 school and Fred a cadet at West Point, but Jesse 
 might often be seen riding the General's little 
 black war horse " Jeff Davis." 
 
 The family was surprised, too, one evening 
 to have this same frisky beast come scram- 
 pering home without his rider. They may have 
 been alarmed, but shortly the boy appeared on 
 foot and covered with dust. 
 192 
 
The Young Grants 
 
 " Why, Jesse ! " exclaimed his father, " where 
 is Jeff Davis?" 
 
 " I don't know," replied the lad somewhat 
 angrily. " He threw me out there in the dirt 
 and put off for home." 
 
 At which the President laughed heartily. 
 
 Midsummer generally found all the family 
 reunited at Long Branch, while the close of 
 President Grant's first term and the commence- 
 ment of his second were extremely festive times 
 at the Executive Mansion. 
 
 Nellie returned home a full-fledged young 
 lady, and Lieutenant Fred, fresh from the Mili- 
 tary Academy, was there to be her companion 
 and escort. Her particular chum was Miss An- 
 nie Barnes, the daughter of a Surgeon-General 
 in the Army, who lived opposite the White 
 House, and she frequently came for dinner or 
 to spend the night, when they would chatter like 
 magpies and enjoy an exchange of girlish confi- 
 dences. The social whirl, of course, spun them 
 into a perfect vortex of gaiety, which reached 
 its climax in the grand functions at the " Amer- 
 ican Court," while, one summer, the children 
 were all treated to a trip abroad. There, too, 
 Miss Grant received most distinguished atten- 
 tion, both in England and elsewhere. 
 
 It was at this time, also, that she met her 
 193 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 " fate," and a pretty little love affair which be- 
 gan on the Russia, culminated, eighteen months 
 later in the great East Room, when the pleasant- 
 faced maiden of nineteen became the seventh 
 White House bride. The groom of twenty- 
 three was Mr. Algernon Sartoris, a young Eng- 
 lishman from Hampshire, and a nephew of the 
 famous actress, Fannie Kemble. 
 
 It was the most brilliant affair Washington 
 had ever known — a real Army and Navy wed- 
 ding — but I fancy the President must have 
 gone through it all with a heavy heart, since it 
 took away " the sole daughter of his hearth and 
 home " to a foreign land, and father, mother 
 and brothers all accompanied the bridal pair to 
 New York — the port from which they sailed 
 — to bid her " God-speed." 
 
 That Nellie was sadly missed, goes without 
 saying, and her absence made a fearful gap in 
 the family circle. It was partially filled, 
 though, the following autumn, when Fred 
 brought another blithe young girl, one of French 
 extraction, to be a daughter to the President 
 and his faithful wife. 
 
 One of my own youthful reminiscences is of 
 
 a visit I once paid to the City of Chicago, and 
 
 of a very grand wedding which took place on 
 
 the same block where I was staying. A lady 
 
 194 
 
The Young Grants 
 
 of our household was one of the guests and 
 was eloquent over the grandeur of the affair 
 and of the richness of the gold plate on which 
 the marriage feast was served, while a little 
 girl friend persuaded me to walk up and 
 down before the tall marble-front house front- 
 ing on Lake Michigan, to catch glimpses of the 
 lighted interior and the throngs of gaily dressed 
 people who came and went. This was the mar- 
 riage of Miss Honore to Mr. Potter Palmer, a 
 millionaire of the Phoenix City, and it was not 
 very long after that a younger sister of that 
 night's bride — dainty, vivacious Ida Honore, 
 had a similar wedding and gave her heart and 
 hand to young Lieutenant Grant. 
 
 So the winter after Nellie sailed away was not 
 such a doleful one as had been feared, while 
 before the close of the administration a wee 
 girl bairnie was born in the Mansion and chris- 
 tened in the artistic Blue Room, " Julia Dent." 
 
 This small maid completed the first octave 
 of White House babies, but she did not live 
 long at the Capital, and at her home in New 
 York, was brought up by her French mother in 
 an extremely careful and " womanly " way, 
 Mrs. Fred Grant having no sympathy, what- 
 ever, with the " advanced " ideas for girls. 
 
 Happily and harmoniously, then, the Grant 
 195 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 regime ebbed to its close, and, when free from 
 office, the General carried out a cherished wish 
 of his life, and, with his wife and his youngest 
 boy, Jesse, set forth, by steamer, " far countries 
 for to see." 
 
 Nellie, and Nellie's home in England was, 
 of course, the first point to which they hastened, 
 but, after a visit there started on a grand tour 
 around the world. Everywhere honors were 
 showered upon them, and I venture to say no 
 American youth ever saw foreign lands under 
 such delightful conditions as did Jesse Grant. 
 Treated like a prince, he was often the guest of 
 royal personages, among them the boy King of 
 Spain and the young Mikado of Japan, and, 
 with his father, he studied the customs and won- 
 ders of the great mysterious East. He saw the 
 Parsee sun worshippers of the Tower of Si- 
 lence; he rode on an elephant to the sacred 
 Ganges, and swung through the streets of Can- 
 ton in a latticed bamboo chair. He climbed 
 mountains, and sailed rivers; he touched " In- 
 dia's coral strand," and I am sure he must have 
 been among that crowd of spectators which 
 gathered about the Yamen — the palace of the 
 Viceroy of China — when that dignitary's wife 
 entertained his mother and the American ladies 
 of their party at dinner. Doors were wide open 
 196 
 
The Young Grants 
 
 so all could peer in and, if there, how he must 
 have laughed at the Chinese Punch and Judy 
 show; and, perhaps, admired the graceful nods 
 and gestures of the Viceroy's daughter, a maiden 
 of sixteen, gaily costumed in a bright pink satin 
 jacket and green satin trousers, elaborately em- 
 broidered with gold thread. 
 
 It was a marvelous journey and it was a pity 
 Ulysses, Jr., could not have shared it, also. 
 But the second son was early on hand to wel- 
 come them when they returned to their native 
 land by way of the Golden Gate. 
 
 At sixty years of age the General felt he had 
 earned a rest, and, being " healthy, wealthy and 
 wise," settled down to smoke his ever-present 
 cigar, in a comfortable home in East Sixty-sixth 
 Street, New York, with his children and grand- 
 children around him, for now Nellie had two 
 fresh-faced little English daughters to bring 
 over to visit Grandpa and Grandma Grant. 
 His money was largely invested in a banking 
 business, of which one of his sons was a partner, 
 and all looked well for a happy and peaceful old 
 age. 
 
 Never were prospects brighter than on Christ- 
 mas Eve, 1883, when all were planning a merry 
 Yule for the little folks. But, that very night, 
 he slipped on the ice and injured a muscle so 
 197 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 badly that he was confined within doors for 
 weeks and was never a well man from that time. 
 
 Most readers, too, know how, the following 
 year, the failure of the banking firm swept away 
 his fortune, leaving him and his family ruined, 
 while the shadow of a slur cast for a brief sea- 
 son upon his good name broke the ex-President 
 down as nothing else could. 
 
 It was a terrible blow to the man of honor, as 
 well as of deeds, but looking into the saddened 
 faces of his wife and children he rallied, and, 
 although soon after attacked by a cruel and in- 
 curable disease of the throat, bravely set to 
 work to write the story of his life, that he might 
 leave something for the support of his loved 
 ones. 
 
 An old proverb declares: "The pen is 
 mightier than the sword," and it was certainly 
 true in this case, for never did this hero of many 
 battles fight a more valiant conflict than when 
 he held Death at bay while he completed the 
 book which was to place his family beyond the 
 danger of want. 
 
 Now it was that the White House girl, Julia 
 
 Dent, was his " little comfort," and she went 
 
 with him when in the summer of 1885 they 
 
 took him from the hot city to a cozy cottage on 
 
 198 
 
The Young Grants 
 
 Mount McGregor, near Saratoga. There, in 
 pain and anguish, he finished his " Memoirs," 
 while one of the last acts of his life was the 
 signing of a petition to some future President 
 (whomever he might be), requesting an ap- 
 pointment to West Point for his little curly- 
 headed grandson, then in kilts, the child of his 
 dear boy Fred. These two deeds accomplished, 
 the tired hand dropped limply and, a few days 
 later, the weary brain was at rest. 
 
 Wife and children wept beside him, but the 
 small granddaughter, with a young friend, 
 crept outside and gathering oak leaves twined 
 them into a garland. This she carried to her 
 father, saying: 
 
 " See, papa, Josie and I have made this for 
 grandpa, and won't you please give it to him." 
 
 Of all the magnificent floral offerings, then, 
 which were sent to the hero-President, that sim- 
 ple wreath of oak leaves was the only one borne 
 on the casket to the gray tomb beside the softly 
 flowing Hudson. 
 
 An elaborate and massive mausoleum has long 
 since replaced the plain stone pile that originally 
 marked the old General's last resting place and 
 his wife now sleeps beside him. 
 
 When left a widow, Nellie returned to Amer- 
 199 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 ica with her children; and his sons are all an 
 honor to his name, while the Grant baby of the 
 White House, Julia Dent, some years ago wed- 
 ded a Russian of noble birth and makes her 
 home beyond the seas, as a subject of the Czar. 
 
 200 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 A " BUCKEYE " FAMILY 
 
 IF Virginia proudly claims the title of 
 " Mother of Presidents," Ohio might as 
 justly be termed " The Father of Rul- 
 ers," and particularly that portion of it known 
 as the " Western Reserve." Virginia's sons 
 represented the " Old School " American, the 
 man of powdered hair, small clothes and courtly 
 manners; while our Presidents from the Middle 
 West have been wide-awake, self-made men, 
 true products of vigorous, progressive Young 
 America. 
 
 The silent Grant was a native of Ohio, and 
 so was Hayes. Yet, Rutherford B. Hayes was 
 vastly proud of his Scotch ancestry, since he 
 bore the name of two famous Highland chiefs, 
 Hayes and Rutherford, who fought side by side 
 with William Wallace and Robert Bruce. 
 
 His family having moved in covered wagons 
 out into the so-called " Wilderness," from 
 New England, he was born there, a few months 
 201 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 after his father's death, and was such a tiny 
 babe, with so big a head, that when the neigh- 
 bors came to look at him, they whispered to one 
 another, " What a mercy it would be if that 
 child were to die." 
 
 But little Ruddy, as they called him, lived 
 and thrived, through at first, in rather a sickly 
 manner, to become the comfort of his sole par- 
 ent's heart — especially after the sad drowning 
 of an elder boy — and the dearest comrade of 
 an only sister, who was two years his senior. 
 
 Mrs. Hayes was in comfortable, if moderate, 
 circumstances, having a two-story brick house in 
 Delaware and deriving her income from a farm 
 without the town. So Fanny and Ruddy were 
 early sent to a district school, where they had 
 for a teacher a thin, wiry little Yankee of terri- 
 ble presence, if good enough heart. He would 
 flog the boys within " an inch of their lives " ; at 
 the same time threatening to throw them 
 through the schoolhouse walls and make them 
 " dance like parched peas." The Hayes chil- 
 dren stood fearfully in awe of him and I fancy 
 they learned more from their private readings 
 than from Daniel Granger's instruction. We 
 hear of them, then, at the age of ten and twelve, 
 pouring over Hume and Smollett together; try- 
 202 
 
A "Buckeye" Family 
 
 ing to interpret Shakespeare, and even drama- 
 tizing Scott's " Lady of the Lake." 
 
 But it was not all work and no play, for fre- 
 quent and delightful were the visits the brother 
 and sister paid to the " Farm," in the maple 
 sugar season; when cherries were ripe; at cider- 
 making, and when Jack Frost opened the burrs 
 on the walnut and hickory trees and brought 
 the brown nuts showering down. 
 
 At fourteen, however, young Rutherford had 
 developed such bookish tendencies, that a kind 
 bachelor uncle, Mr. Sardis Birchard, stepped 
 forward and offered to help his nephew to a 
 liberal education. His offer was gladly ac- 
 cepted, and, after a few years at preparatory 
 schools, he entered Kenyon College at Gam- 
 bier, from which he was graduated valedictorian 
 of his class and was long remembered with af- 
 fection. As one of his college mates said: 
 
 " Hayes had left a memory which was a fas- 
 cination, a glowing memory. He was popular, 
 magnanimous, manly; was a noble, chivalrous 
 fellow of great promise." 
 
 Following this up with a course at the Cam- 
 bridge law school, he was, in the course of 
 time, able to practise his chosen profession, first 
 at Fremont and then in Cincinnati. 
 203 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 It was during his college days, too, that he 
 wrote out these resolutions : 
 
 " ist. I will read no newspapers. 
 
 " 2nd. I will rise at seven and retire at ten. 
 
 " 3d. I will study law six hours, German 
 two, and chemistry two. 
 
 " 4th. In reading Blackstone, I will record 
 my difficulties." 
 
 And, it is probable, he carried them out, with 
 the steadfastness of a strong character. 
 
 Many years before this, when a mere lad, 
 Rutherford paid a visit at Chillicothe and there 
 met a pretty little girl of some eight or ten 
 summers, the daughter of a Dr. Webb of that 
 place. He found her interesting, but they 
 never saw each other again until, one vacation, 
 the budding lawyer and a young under-gradu- 
 ate from the Wesley an Female College of Cin- 
 cinnati chanced to meet at Delaware Sulphur 
 Springs. Then, in bright, gray-eyed Lucy 
 Ware Webb, he recognized the little maid of 
 Chillicothe, and they became excellent friends, 
 while, on his return to the city, at the close of 
 his holiday, he wrote to an acquaintance: 
 " My friend Jones has introduced me to many 
 of our city belles, but I do not see anyone who 
 makes me forget the natural gaiety and at- 
 tractiveness of Miss Lucy." 
 204 
 
A "Buckeye" Family 
 
 From that time on, then, he became a fre- 
 quent visitor at the Friday evening receptions 
 held in the college parlors, and, two years later, 
 the " sweet girl graduate " became his wife. 
 
 They were married by Professor L. D. Mc- 
 Cabe, the president of the bride's alma mater, 
 their only attendant being a pretty child of 
 eight years, the daughter of Mr. Hayes' dear 
 sister Fanny, who was now Mrs. William Piatt. 
 
 It was a true love-match and soon a bunch 
 of babies filled the pleasant little home almost 
 to overflowing, although two were snatched 
 away in infancy. 
 
 Of course the eldest boy was given the family 
 name of Birchard, it being that of the generous 
 uncle w r ho had been Mr. Hayes' good genius 
 in his youth, and who, later, made him his heir, 
 leaving him all his property at Fremont; while 
 small Webb and Rutherford, Jr., were so called 
 in honor of their mother and father. They 
 were happy, whole-souled little fellows, and 
 were still quite small shavers when the war 
 broke out and their papa — now Major Hayes 
 — went marching away at the head of a regi- 
 ment of Ohio volunteers. 
 
 Those were hard days for both mother and 
 children, especially when word came that their 
 gallant soldier was wounded, which he was four 
 205 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 times, while a horse was shot under him in the 
 fight at Cedar Creek, when " Sheridan was 
 twenty miles away." But that battle promoted 
 him from a Colonel to a Brigadier-General. 
 
 There was, however, one bright spot in those 
 years of carnage, and that was the autumn of 
 1862, when the Twenty-third Ohio Volunteers 
 went into winter quarters in West Virginia, near 
 the falls of the Great Kanawha, and the Col- 
 onel's wife, with three of her boys (there were 
 now four living sons), went down to visit him. 
 Other ladies joined their husbands in camp and 
 it proved a right jolly season, the little Hayes, 
 as well as their elders, having plenty of riding, 
 fishing, boating and pleasure excursions of every 
 sort. They became, veritably, the " children 
 of the regiment," being petted and made much 
 of by the soldiers, while they often accompanied 
 their mother on her morning round through the 
 hospital, where she came like a ministering an- 
 gel, bringing aid and comfort to the sick and 
 wounded. 
 
 The men adored her and one thus wrote of 
 that memorable winter: 
 
 " Into our midst, sitting at our camp fire, put- 
 ting new heart into many a homesick boy, ban- 
 ishing the fever from many a bronzed 
 cheek with her gentle touch, came this fair lady 
 206 
 
A "Buckeye" Family 
 
 and her boys. We named our camp in her 
 honor, ' Camp Lucy Hayes,' and not a man in 
 all those thousands but would have risked his 
 life for her." 
 
 The visit to the encampment was repeated the 
 following summer, but proved a far sadder one, 
 as then the youngest boy — the baby — sick- 
 ened and died within the sound of the Great 
 Kanawha. 
 
 All those rough soldiers mourned with the 
 " Mother of Our's," and the little brothers who 
 were left, and none, perhaps, more than one 
 beardless boy-sergeant of sixteen or seventeen, 
 who was devoted to his Colonel. Mr. Hayes, 
 likewise, was strangely attracted by this sober- 
 faced but keen-witted lad, so much so that he 
 had him placed on his staff, and, afterward, 
 said: "I did literally and in fact know him 
 like a book, and loved him like a brother." 
 
 It was a beautiful friendship, and more so, in 
 the light of later events, since the kindly Col- 
 onel was destined to be the nineteenth President 
 of the United States, and the soldier-boy — lit- 
 tle William McKinley — the twenty-fifth. 
 
 The war over, honors showered thick and 
 fast upon General Hayes, he being twice made 
 Congressman, and thrice Governor of his na- 
 tive State; so his boys saw much of public life, 
 207 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 before going to Cornell, where most of them 
 were graduated. Their house, too, was a regu- 
 lar soldiers' home, all who had served with their 
 father being welcome to come at all hours and 
 sit at their board. It is said few imposed upon 
 this hospitality, but once, a pseudo-soldier, 
 dubbed by the children the " Veteran," having 
 served just two days and a half in the army, re- 
 mained double the term of his military career, 
 beneath the Governor's roof. 
 
 He evidently found the rations at that camp 
 particularly to his taste. 
 
 One September day, too, to the joy of all, a 
 wee girlie made her advent into the household, 
 and was named for the aunt, who was now only 
 a charming memory — the Fanny Hayes of the 
 old Delaware days. 
 
 Mrs. Piatt died in early womanhood, but 
 Mr. Hayes paid her this beautiful tribute. 
 " She loved me," he said, " as an only sister 
 loves a brother whom she imagines almost per- 
 fect; and I loved her as an only brother loves a 
 sister who is perfect. Let me be just and truth- 
 ful, wise and pure and good for her sake. 
 How often I think of her ! I read of the death 
 of any one worthy of love and she is in my 
 thoughts. I see — but all things high and holy 
 remind me of her." 
 
 208 
 
A "Buckeye" Family 
 
 Perhaps Fanny Hayes the Second had some- 
 what the same feeling for small Scott Russell, 
 the baby boy who, three or four years later, 
 completed this " Buckeye " family. 
 
 And these two, aged ten and seven, were the 
 " children of the White House " when Mr. 
 Hayes was made President; while Webb acted 
 as his father's confidential secretary, as Birch- 
 ard was now a practising lawyer and Ruther- 
 ford, Jr., away at school. 
 
 " General, if I had a slipper, I'd throw it 
 after you," Mr. Hayes called out, laughingly, 
 to *ex-President and Mrs. Grant, as they drove 
 away after the inauguration — an inauguration 
 which had been a very joyous occasion to the 
 wife and little ones, and it is thus that Mary 
 Clemmer, a well-known literary woman of 
 Washington, then wrote of the new mistress of 
 the Executive Mansion: 
 
 " Meanwhile, on this man of whom every 
 one in the nation is this moment thinking, a fair 
 woman, between two little children, looks down. 
 She has a singularly gentle and winning face. 
 It looks out from the bands of smooth, dark 
 hair with that tender light in the eyes which we 
 have come to associate with the Madonna. I 
 have never seen such a face reign in the White 
 House. I wonder what the world of Vanity 
 209 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 Fair will do with it! Will it friz that hair? 
 Powder that face? Draw those sweet, fine 
 lines awry with pride? Bare those shoulders? 
 Shorten those sleeves? Hide John Wesley's 
 discipline out of sight, as it poses and minces be- 
 fore the first lady of the land? What will she 
 do with it, this woman of the hearth and home? 
 The Lord in heaven knows. All I 
 know is that Mr. and Mrs. Hayes, are the fin- 
 est-looking type of man and woman that I have 
 seen take up their abode in the White House." 
 
 A month later, Mrs. Hayes held her first 
 Saturday afternoon reception, looking like a pic- 
 ture in a princesse gown of black silk, the 
 plainness of which was relieved by exquisite 
 point-lace; her mobile countenance radiant with 
 delight and her eyes shining like stars. 
 
 By her side was little Miss Fanny, in a sim- 
 ple frock of white muslin, pink sash and pink 
 boots, her short hair brushed back from her 
 bright, intelligent face, and very well she as- 
 sumed her part, with natural, childlike grace. 
 
 When, too, most of the guests had drifted 
 away, leaving only a few friends, she consented 
 to sing for a gentleman present, a song which he 
 must " be sure and remember for his little girl 
 at home. Then, seating herself at the grand 
 piano in the Red Room and removing her tiny 
 210 
 
A "Buckeye" Family 
 
 white gloves, she played and sang this old nur- 
 sery ditty: 
 
 " Once there was a little kitty- 
 Whiter than snow, 
 In the barn she used to frolic, 
 A long time ago. 
 
 And there was a little mousey, 
 
 Running to and fro. 
 And the kitty spied the mousey, 
 
 A long time ago. 
 
 Two soft paws had little kitty, 
 
 Softer than dough. 
 And they caught the little mousey, 
 
 A long time ago. 
 
 Nine sharp teeth had little kitty 
 
 All in a row ; 
 And they bit the little mousey, 
 
 A long time ago. 
 
 When the teeth bit little mousey, 
 
 The little mouse said ' Oh ! ' 
 But she got away from kitty-, 
 
 A long time ago." 
 
 " Now you remember it," she lisped, as she 
 kissed her friend " good night." 
 
 Small Scott was a mischievous elf, up to many 
 
 21 I 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 a prank, but he was so kind-hearted, withal, 
 that he could not bear to shoot even a squirrel. 
 He dearly loved, though, a romp with " fa- 
 ther," for, no matter how much immersed in af- 
 fairs of state, Mr. Hayes generally found some 
 time each day for a chat or game with his 
 younger children. 
 
 A devout Methodist and strict temperance 
 woman, Mrs. Hayes came to Washington de- 
 termined not to offer wine to guests at the Ex- 
 ecutive Mansion. This created quite a furore, 
 becoming, I believe, even a Cabinet question. 
 For a year, she was a target for all sorts of 
 spiteful arrows, being even stigmatized as 
 " Lemonade Lucy " ; but, true to her principles 
 and upheld by her husband, she stuck to her col- 
 ors, and finally, with sweet patience and tact, 
 conquered Mrs. Grundy, on her own ground, 
 and won for herself the respect of all the na- 
 tion. 
 
 On only one occasion, then, was wine seen on 
 the White House table during this administra- 
 tion, and that was at a dinner given to the 
 Grand Duke Alexis, when Secretary Evarts was 
 really the official host. 
 
 Most hospitable, though, was this good 
 woman, and dearly did she love to fill the big 
 mansion with young girls, once giving an elab- 
 212 
 
A "Buckeye" Family 
 
 orate luncheon to fifty of them, in honor of 
 eight maiden guests; as well as fancy dress balls 
 and other social affairs. 
 
 One of these youthful visitors, who spent sev- 
 eral months with the Hayes family, was a Cin- 
 cinnati girl of " sweet sixteen," and so delightful 
 did she find her sojourn under the national 
 roof, that on her return home, she confided to 
 her bosom friends that it was her intention only 
 to marry " a man destined to be President of the 
 United States." 
 
 Curiously enough, too, like Mrs. Lincoln, she 
 carried out her purpose, for Mrs. Hayes' en- 
 thusiastic guest was Helen Herron, who, as 
 Mrs. William Taft, on the fourth of March 
 last, became the " first lady of the land." 
 
 The picture, though, which stands out bright- 
 est on this page of domestic White House his- 
 tory, is the last day but one of the year 1877. 
 
 The boys were all at home for the Christmas 
 holidays, and, in the pretty Blue Room, the 
 President and his gracious helpmeet celebrated 
 their silver wedding, she appearing in the self- 
 same quaint gown and white satin slippers — 
 cream-laid with age — which had been worn by 
 the bride of twenty-five years before. The 
 company was, as far as possible, the same who 
 attended the wedding in 1852; Mrs. Mitchell, 
 213 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 the President's niece, and she who, as a tiny girl 
 had been the little bridesmaid of the first cere- 
 mony, stood beside them; and there, surrounded 
 by their children and dear and tried friends, 
 they again received the pastoral blessing of the 
 Rev. Dr. McCabe, who had married them so 
 many years ago. 
 
 This was followed by the christening of an 
 infant daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Herron, who 
 was given the name of Lucy Webb; while after- 
 ward little Fanny and Scott Russell were bap- 
 tized, and all concluded with a sumptuous din- 
 ner. 
 
 The President had sternly set his face against 
 receiving any gifts on this occasion, but one to 
 Mrs. Hayes could not be declined. It came 
 from the officers of the Twenty-third Ohio Vol- 
 unteer Infantry and consisted of a silver plate 
 imbedded in a mat of black velvet and enclosed 
 in a rich ebony frame. 
 
 It was sent " To the Mother of the Regi- 
 ment," and on the plate appeared a sketch of 
 the log hut that was Colonel Hayes' headquar- 
 ters in the valley of the Kanawha, surmounted 
 by tattered and torn battle flags, while below 
 was this inscription : 
 
 " To Thee, ' Mother of Ours,' from the 
 23rd O. V. I. To Thee, our Mother, on thy 
 214 
 
A "Buckeye" Family 
 
 silver troth, we bring this token of our love. 
 The boys give greeting unto thee with burning 
 hearts. Take the hoarded treasures of thy 
 speech, kind words, gentle when a gentle word 
 was worth the surgery of an hundred schools to 
 heal sick thought and make our bruises whole. 
 Take it, our Mother; 'tis but some small part 
 of thy rare beauty we give back to thee, and 
 while love speaks in silver, from our hearts 
 we'll bribe Old Father Time to spare his gift." 
 
 Do you not think her sons, when they read 
 these glowing words, must have felt prouder 
 than ever of the noble woman they, too, called 
 "mother"? 
 
 Another pleasant event was the coming of 
 age of young Webb, which was appropriately 
 celebrated at the White House. 
 
 So, the closing months of this regime were 
 marked by much cordiality and national good 
 feeling, while Mrs. Hayes, with her band of 
 bright children, left the mansion most highly 
 honored by her own sex. Indeed, her portrait, 
 a beautiful life-size painting by Huntington, 
 was presented to the United States by the tem- 
 perance people, who felt that her course de- 
 served some marked tribute. 
 
 On the way back to Ohio, they were in quite 
 a serious railroad accident, when two people 
 215 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 were killed, but fortunately all the ex-Presi- 
 dent's party escaped unhurt, and they were en- 
 thusiastically welcomed back to Fremont, with 
 music, banners and speeches. 
 
 At " Spiegel Grove," then, the beautiful 
 house standing in the centre of thirty acres of 
 woodland, which had been built by " Uncle 
 Sardis," and bequeathed to Mr. Hayes, they 
 took up the threads of private life again, and 
 Fanny was sent away to school at Farmington, 
 Connecticut. 
 
 She had, however, returned home to enjoy a 
 blithe young ladyhood ere the mother of the 
 family was called up higher, and it was in the 
 pleasant brick residence at Fremont she was mar- 
 ried to Harry Eaton Smith, then an ensign in 
 the U. S. Navy, but now an instructor at the 
 Naval Academy in Annapolis, where she lives 
 most of the year and has one little son of her 
 own. 
 
 Ex-President Hayes survived his wife a few 
 years, but when stricken with heart trouble, 
 while visiting his boy Webb, at Cleveland, im- 
 mediately exclaimed: "I want to go home. 
 I would rather die in Spiegel Grove than live 
 anywhere else." 
 
 He had his wish, and in that loved spot 
 216 
 
A "Buckeye" Family 
 
 passed away, his last words being: " I know I 
 am going where Lucy is." 
 
 To-day, Birchard Austin, practising his pro- 
 fession at Toledo, Ohio; Rutherford Piatt, in 
 business in North Carolina, and Scott Russell, in 
 New York, are all worthy sons of their illustri- 
 ous parents, while Webb is the one Hayes boy 
 who still makes his home at the old place at 
 Spiegel Grove. 
 
 217 
 
E 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE GARFIELD CHILDREN 
 
 ££~|~^LIZA, I have planted four saplings 
 in these woods. I leave them to 
 your care." 
 
 These were the dying words of poor Abram 
 Garfield, as he pointed to the quartette of young 
 children he was about to leave. Then, with 
 one long, lingering look over his little farm 
 and calling his oxen by name, he fell back un- 
 conscious, and, two days later, was laid to rest 
 in a corner of his own wheat field, way out in 
 the " wilderness " of Western Ohio. 
 
 Thus left unprotected, with two small girls, 
 a boy of seven and a baby of eighteen months, 
 the widow's one idea was to keep the family 
 together and the roof of the rude log cabin 
 over their heads. 
 
 With this end in view, then, she toiled from 
 sunrise to sunset, not only performing her 
 household tasks, but gathering in the hay, plant- 
 218 
 
The Garfield Children 
 
 ing and reaping corn and clearing new land and 
 fencing it in; with little assistance except that 
 rendered by small Mehetable, Thomas and 
 Mary. 
 
 In fruit season they reveled in berries and 
 home-grown cherries, apples and plums, but at 
 other times there was cornmeal pudding or por- 
 ridge for breakfast, dinner and supper, while 
 if the meal ran low in the chest, they often 
 went to bed hungry. 
 
 Still the young " saplings " thrived and flour- 
 ished and little fair, blue-eyed James Abram, 
 the youngest, seems to have been the pet and 
 joy of the humble household and learned to 
 read and spell at such an early age, he was 
 sent to the district school the summer after he 
 was four years old. When cold weather set in, 
 however, and the snow fell, he had to stay at 
 home, because he had no shoes and there was 
 no money to buy them. 
 
 Then, ten-year-old Thomas stepped to the 
 front. " I will go out to work this winter, 
 mother," he said. 
 
 So he hired himself to a farmer and went 
 away, the bitterest parting being from the little 
 brother whom he loved like his own life. 
 
 Fourteen hours a day brave young Tommy 
 219 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 labored, and, at last, one Saturday night re- 
 turned home in triumph, bringing six dollars 
 and a half — the wages he had earned. 
 
 " You may have it all, mother," he cried, 
 " only buy Jimmy a pair of shoes so that he 
 can go to school." 
 
 So it was plain, steady Thomas Garfield who 
 first set the feet of our twentieth President in 
 the rugged path leading up the " hill of knowl- 
 edge," and here it should also be recorded that 
 he was ever the most devoted of brothers, re- 
 fusing to marry until James' education was fin- 
 ished. 
 
 Supplied with shoes " Baby " Garfield then 
 became once more a pupil at the schoolhouse 
 erected on a portion of his mother's farm, and 
 a most uneasy scholar he proved, pestering the 
 teacher nearly out of her wits in her efforts to 
 keep him still. At length, she complained to 
 his mother, and Master Jimmy had such a 
 heartrending " talking-to," he went the next 
 day determined to " sit as still as ever he 
 could." He must, too, have succeeded pretty 
 well, since at the close of his first term, he was 
 given a New Testament for being the best boy 
 in the school. 
 
 It was, probably, studying this volume which 
 made him so familiar with the Scriptures in 
 220 
 
The Garfield Children 
 
 after-years. But he also read every other book 
 he could lay his hands on, and a certain Cousin 
 Harriet and himself were so fascinated with a 
 collection of lurid sea-tales, entitled " The 
 Pirates' Own Book," that he became inspired 
 with a wild desire to be a sailor and " sail the 
 ocean blue." 
 
 The nearest he ever came to this, however, 
 was working on the " raging canal," being en- 
 gaged by another cousin to drive horses on the 
 towpath, for ten dollar a month and his board. 
 
 But before this, " Jim Gaffield," as he was 
 called on the Western Reserve, had proved no 
 laggard on the farm, but had dug and hoed and 
 chopped wood like a Trojan, besides being 
 quite a good carpenter; while, when a narrow 
 escape from drowning sent him back home, and 
 a severe attack of " ague " kept him in his 
 mother's care for some months, she prevailed 
 upon him to return to his studies and fit himself 
 for a teacher. For Mother Garfield always 
 had faith in her baby boy's cleverness, and 
 longed to see him rise in the world. 
 
 At seventeen, then, James started out to 
 fairly " scrabble " for an education, working 
 his way through the Geauga Seminary at Ches- 
 ter; then through a newly organized institution 
 of learning at Hiram, and finally reached Wil- 
 221 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 liams College, which he entered in the junior 
 year. 
 
 In his vacation he generally taught school, 
 and one winter holiday saw him giving writing 
 lessons at North Pownal, Vermont. There he 
 heard a good deal about another young college 
 student from New York who, the year previous, 
 had been the master of the school where he 
 held his classes. Never, though, could he have 
 dreamed of the way he was to meet and know 
 that man a quarter of a century later, nor how 
 intimately their life lines were to mingle, for 
 that Vermont teacher was Chester A. Arthur. 
 
 While at Chester he had joined the Church 
 of the Disciples, or Campbellites, being bap- 
 tized in a little stream flowing into the Chagrin 
 River, and, all through his college course he 
 took an active part in prayer meetings and re- 
 ligious gatherings, while he frequently traveled 
 about the country as an " exhorter," preaching 
 and lecturing wherever he found an oppor- 
 tunity. 
 
 At that time, too, another and much younger 
 scholar at the Geauga Seminary, was a sweet- 
 faced little girl from Maryland who, becoming 
 well acquainted with James Garfield, imbibed 
 from him a taste for books, and when, later, 
 he filled for a time the place of a tutor at 
 
 222 
 
The Garfield Children 
 
 Hiram College, this same studious Lucretia Ru- 
 dolph came into his classroom and was his pu- 
 pil in Latin for two years. 
 
 But he taught her something else besides a 
 dead language, and that was the very living 
 language of love; so, before the young man 
 went to Williams, they were engaged to be mar- 
 ried. 
 
 As their betrothal promised to be a long one, 
 she took up teaching, as well as he, and long 
 after, a leading citizen of Bayou, Ohio, re- 
 called this picture of the youthful pair as they 
 then appeared: 
 
 " Twenty-three years ago Mrs. Garfield 
 sought and taught scholars in painting and 
 drawing in this then very insignificant village, 
 and not getting very large classes, living mean- 
 time in my house, the guest and friend of my 
 then wife. The future President was fre- 
 quently entertained at my table; he, a young, 
 strong, green, great-hearted, large-headed 
 youth, but two years from college, hopeful, full 
 of life and push. She, graceful, sweet, amiable, 
 retiring, with a disposition as lovely as a star- 
 lit sky — both poor. Their fortune was their 
 youth, health, hearts, intellects, hopes, and, glad 
 am I to say, love." 
 
 At this period James was, again, a teacher 
 223 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 in the Eclectic Institute at Hiram, which was 
 founded by the " Disciples," and when made 
 President of this very college where he had 
 formerly swept the floors, built the fires and 
 rung the bell, he and Miss Rudolph were mar- 
 ried. 
 
 Still, Garfield's ambitions were for a wider 
 career, so, like Hayes, he studied law and also, 
 like him, responded to the first call to arms, 
 serving in the war for three years, where he was 
 known as the " preacher soldier," while he only 
 left the field of conflict to enter Congress. 
 
 Before this, however, a wee girl baby had 
 been born to the young couple and their first 
 sorrow was the loss of this infant. 
 
 It was right after the battle of Chickamauga, 
 where the father won his Major-General stars, 
 that he heard the sad news and hurried home 
 to console his wife. He was photographed 
 holding his little daughter pressed to his 
 breast, and, afterward, speaking to a friend of 
 this circumstance, said: 
 
 " As I sat with that dead child in my arms 
 my eyes rested upon my bright blue uniform, 
 so recently bestowed upon me, and I thought: 
 'How small are all the honors of this life — 
 how insignificant are all its struggles and tri- 
 umphs ! ' I am grieved and broken in spirit at 
 224 
 
The Garfield Children 
 
 the great loss which has been inflicted upon me, 
 but I can endure almost anything, so long as 
 this brave little woman is left to me." 
 
 As a Congressman, he was richer than ever 
 before, and then was purchased " Lawnfield," 
 the stock farm near Mentor, which has now 
 become historic ground and where a gay flock 
 of little folk was soon growing up and being 
 early instructed by their gentle, but brainy, 
 mother, who was still no mean Greek and Latin 
 scholar, and quite able to fit her boys for col- 
 lege. 
 
 There was Harry Augustus, a tall, well-built 
 young fellow, with a taste for painting, poetry 
 and music. He wielded the brush with consider- 
 able cleverness, besides spending hours at the 
 piano, and it was his sweet voice which soared 
 highest when they sang General Garfield's fa- 
 vorite hymn — "Ho, Reapers of Life's Har- 
 vest." 
 
 A decided contrast to his brother was James 
 Rudolph, with his fair hair, sturdy build and 
 devotion to outdoor sports. He was, too, a 
 leader in his classes when both lads were sent to 
 St. Paul's School at Concord, N. H., although 
 it was Harry who won the prize for the best 
 English declamation. 
 
 Next came Mary or " Mollie," as everybody 
 225 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 called her, a rosy-cheeked girl, with eyes " over- 
 running with laughter"; while shrewd, keen- 
 witted Irvin McDowell and little Abram — 
 named for his pioneer grandfather — formed a 
 regular " team " of young athletes and were 
 prime movers in all boyish games. These last 
 were small chaps in knickerbockers when their 
 father was elected President, but before that, 
 had spent many winters in Washington. 
 
 The family circle was completed by " Grand- 
 ma Garfield," who now made her home with 
 her youngest and best-loved child, enjoying a 
 peaceful and honored old age. 
 
 It was at Lawnfield that General Garfield 
 spent his happiest days, when, free from state 
 duties, he could ride over his farm and work 
 in the hay-field with his sons. He was always 
 interested in his children's studies, but remem- 
 bering his own early struggles once remarked 
 to a gentleman who interviewed him after his 
 nomination : 
 
 " Tell me, now, do you think we can raise 
 men for high positions? There are my boys; 
 I am educating them carefully, but I can't tell 
 if they will ever be heard of, and I question it. 
 . . . Won't it happen that some poor and 
 obscure little fellow, who has to scratch for 
 every inch, will run ahead of them and come 
 226 
 
The Garfield Children 
 
 to the front, while they will pass away un- 
 known to fame? " 
 
 " That is nearly always the case," said the 
 visitor. 
 
 " So it is; and it makes me wonder if tender 
 rearing of boys, and giving them an elaborate 
 education, is so much of a benefit to them, after 
 all." 
 
 This is a pleasant family picture and it is 
 sad to think that in a neighboring western state, 
 a boy had grown into manhood who was to 
 bring grief and desolation to the happy house- 
 hold. 
 
 The son of a respected citizen of Freeport, 
 Illinois, Charles Jules Guiteau, had been 
 brought up in a decidedly " pious " manner, the 
 father always having a Bible beside him at the 
 breakfast table, and reading from it before be- 
 ginning the meal. Indeed, the young man him- 
 self was a sort of religious fanatic, and, having 
 spent his early life in the Oneida Community, 
 was considered " queer," by his companions, 
 who were wont to say : " Oh, Jules is 
 ' looney ' ! " His eccentricities, too, increased 
 when, after studying law, he traveled in Europe 
 and there imbibed Socialistic and other peculiar 
 doctrines until, at length, by one dastardly and 
 most unnecessary act, he put a whole nation 
 227 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 in mourning and brought disgrace upon his 
 gray-haired father and a blithe and bright young 
 sister. But more of that hereafter. 
 
 The first inauguration the writer of this ever 
 witnessed was that of President Garfield, and, 
 I believe, it was the finest Washington had 
 then ever known. The day was ushered in by 
 snow and wind, but at an early hour the sun 
 struggled through the clouds, and, although the 
 streets were ankle deep with slush, ice and 
 water, Pennsylvania Avenue bloomed out like 
 a flower garden with gay-hued flags and ban- 
 ners, and was thronged by an enormous crowd. 
 As we looked down from an upper window, it 
 seemed verily " a sea of faces " beneath a wall 
 of waving bunting. 
 
 The procession was two hours in passing, and, 
 in an open carriage, drawn by four horses, rode 
 President Hayes and President-elect Garfield, 
 vis-a-vis with the two Vice-Presidents, Wheeler 
 and Arthur, bowing right and left to the people. 
 It was then and there, too, that the lives of 
 the one-time Vermont school teachers touched 
 and crossed for weal or for woe. 
 
 Around the Capitol the crowd was densest 
 
 and ten thousand pairs of eyes were riveted 
 
 upon the platform at the east portico when, 
 
 at the hour of noon, the newly-elected ruler ap- 
 
 228 
 
The Garfield Children 
 
 peared to deliver his inaugural address, while 
 conspicuous among those behind him was a tiny, 
 white-haired woman of nearly fourscore, in 
 widow's weeds — dear old " Grandma " Gar- 
 field, come to witness the culmination of all her 
 hopes and prayers for her youngest " sapling." 
 With her were the wives of the out-going and. 
 in-coming Presidents, the two older Garfield 
 boys, and bonny Miss Mollie, hand-in-hand with 
 Fanny Hayes. 
 
 A thrill, too, of that sympathy which 
 " makes the whole world kin," ran through 
 the vast concourse when, having taken the oath 
 of office, President Garfield turned and kissed 
 his mother and then his wife. 
 
 The enthusiasm of one young schoolgirl was 
 unbounded. 
 
 " Oh, it was done for effect," remarked her 
 companion teasingly. 
 
 " No," she cried, her cheeks flushing and 
 eyes sparkling. " It was done because he is a 
 knight — a real Sir Galahad! " 
 
 The little mother was, also, the first one to 
 welcome her son to the White House, having 
 preceded him thither, and the gala day con- 
 cluded with fireworks and a grand inauguration 
 ball in the evening, although the expected il- 
 lumination of the city was something of a fizzle. 
 229 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 The five Garfield children attracted much at- 
 tention that spring of 1881, but Harry and 
 James had to return to their school for some 
 months, as they were just completing their 
 course there and were prepared to enter college 
 in t;he fall. They were, though, for a short 
 time all together and a Washington corre- 
 spondent has given us this pen-portrait of a meal 
 in the Homestead of the Nation: 
 
 " In the cosy family dining-room the Presi- 
 dent's seat is midway the length of the table on 
 its west side, and Mrs. Garfield sits opposite, 
 with Harry, her eldest, a decided ' mother boy,' 
 as near her as the presence of almost constant 
 guests will permit, while Jimmie sits corre- 
 spondingly near his father, where also ' Grand- 
 ma ' Garfield has an honored place. She is 
 always waited on first, whoever else may be 
 present. Mollie sits at the north end of the 
 table, and the two younger boys are disposed 
 a little promiscuously, according to the exi- 
 gencies of the case. Harry is eighteen, tall and 
 graceful, with the regular features of his 
 mother. The down of manhood appears on 
 his cheeks. Jimmie, sixteen years old, is nearly 
 or quite as tall as his brother and broader 
 shouldered, with the Saxon hair and large fea- 
 tures of his father, whom he bids fair to re- 
 230 
 
The Garfield Children 
 
 semble strongly in person and intellect. Mol- 
 lie, aged fourteen, has the dark-brown hair of 
 her mother and the lineaments of her father 
 not unhandsomely reproduced. When woman- 
 hood has softened the charm of heir face she 
 will be very fine-looking. She is a great pet 
 with her father. Irvin, aged eleven, and 
 Abram, aged nine, you already know through 
 descriptions, especially the former, who is the 
 eccentric one, possibly the genius of them all. 
 He is named for General McDowell, and in- 
 sists that his name must be always written, not 
 Irvin M., but Irvin McD. Mealtime is al- 
 most the only time the President has lately had 
 with his children, and he devotes himself in 
 great part to them at that time, often asking 
 questions, on some interesting point, of Harry 
 or James or Mollie to draw them out, and then 
 explaining it at considerable length, instructing 
 by the Socratic method as it were." 
 
 This had always been a custom in the house 
 of Garfield, for the father having a natural gift 
 for teaching, made his family like a school, and' 
 invented instructive games. For instance, he 
 would spell from a dictionary words which are 
 frequently mispronounced and then ask the chil- 
 dren, in turn, to give the correct pronunciation; 
 or else he read the definitions while the young 
 231 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 folks endeavored to hit upon the exact word 
 defined. If they came near the right word he 
 encouraged them by saying: "Now you are 
 getting warm; " but, if wide of the mark, called 
 out: "Cold!" or "very cold!" All the 
 family enjoyed this exceedingly. 
 
 The first three months, then, were very pleas- 
 ant ones within the Executive Mansion, the 
 chief vexation being the horde of office seekers 
 which besieged the house and, among these, ap- 
 peared the " looney Jules," from Freeport. He 
 desired a consulship at Marseilles and, one day, 
 having obtained access to the Head of the Na- 
 tion, behaved so rudely that the attendants were 
 obliged to remove him by force. It was prob- 
 ably, then, the murderous microbe first found 
 lodgment in his half-crazed brain. 
 
 The intense heat of a Washington June found 
 Mrs. Garfield suffering from a rather sharp at- 
 tack of malaria; so, taking Mollie with her, she 
 fled away to the fresher air of Long Branch; 
 while small Irvin and Abram accompanied 
 Grandma back to Ohio for the summer. 
 
 By the first of July, then, only the two sons, 
 fresh from their Concord school, were with the 
 President in Washington, and he was planning 
 to attend the Commencement at his alma mater, 
 W T illiams College, and afterward enjoy a pleas- 
 232 
 
The Garfield Children 
 
 ure trip through New England with his wife 
 and three oldest children. 
 
 He was in the best of spirits, when, on the 
 morning of the second, as he was dressing, 
 Harry came into his room and, deftly turning a 
 hand-spring across the bed, laughingly asked: 
 " Don't you wish you could do that? " 
 
 " Well, I think I can," replied his father, 
 and, in another moment, he was on his hands 
 and over the bed almost as nimbly as the youth- 
 ful athlete. 
 
 Breakfast over, he bade Harry and Jimmie 
 " good-bye " and rode off with Secretary of 
 State Blaine to the depot of the Baltimore & 
 Potomac Railroad, and it was there he received 
 the fatal shot which resulted in weeks of suf- 
 fering and final death. 
 
 Charles Jules Guiteau was walking up and 
 down, nervously awaiting the coming of his vic- 
 tim, and as he entered, drew forth a revolver, 
 took steady and deliberate aim, fired twice and 
 fled. 
 
 There was no outcry, but, with one surprised 
 look to see from whence came the murderous 
 bullet, the President sank to the ground; his 
 life blood spurted forth and friends and stran- 
 gers gathered round in horror. 
 
 Excitement ran riot, but when very gently 
 233 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 lifted onto a mattress, he turned to a gentleman 
 near at hand and whispered: " Rockwell, I 
 want you to send a message to ' Crete '." (His 
 pet name for his wife, Lucretia.) " Tell her 
 I am seriously hurt, how seriously I cannot yet 
 say. I am myself, and hope she will come to 
 me soon. I send my love to her." 
 
 What news this was to be flashed over the 
 wires to the loving wife nd daughter at the sea- 
 shore! and it must have been still more of a 
 shock to the boys in the White House whom he 
 had left less than half an hour before. 
 
 Harry flew to him at once and rode home 
 with him in the ambulance, holding his hand; 
 but he kept up good courage, and it was he 
 who sent this telegram to the little grand- 
 mother in the West: 
 
 "July 2nd, 1 88 1. 
 " To Mrs. Eliza Garfield, Solon, Ohio: 
 
 " Don't be alarmed by sensational rumors ; 
 doctor thinks it will not be fatal. Don't think 
 of coming until you hear further. 
 
 " Harry A. Garfield." 
 
 James, however, broke down completely and 
 sobbed aloud beside his father's bed. At this, 
 the President tried to comfort him. 
 234 
 
The Garfield Children 
 
 " Don't be alarmed, Jimmie," he said, " the 
 upper story is all right; it is only the hull that 
 is a little damaged." 
 
 As quickly as special train could bring them, 
 Mrs. Garfield and Mollie sped back to the Cap- 
 ital and arrived to find the husband and father, 
 apparently, breathing his last; but he rallied, as 
 we all know, and lingered for many, many days, 
 while " all the world wondered." Some, too, 
 recalled the brief address which the invalid had 
 made at New York when President Lincoln 
 was stricken down, in much the same manner. 
 His few words then were: 
 
 " Fellow-citizens, clouds and darkness are 
 around Him; His pavilion is dark waters and 
 thick clouds; justice and judgment are the es- 
 tablishment of His throne; mercy and truth 
 shall go before His face. Fellow-citizens, God 
 reigns and the Government at Washington still 
 lives." 
 
 For a time he really seemed on the road to 
 convalescence, even during the heat of a most 
 sultry August. But an unfavorable change set 
 in. 
 
 At length, it was decided to try the beneficial 
 effects of sea air and salt water, and, on Sep- 
 tember sixth, he was removed to Mr. C. G. 
 235 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 Franklyn's pretty cottage at Elberon, within a 
 hundred yards of the white-crested ocean he 
 had always loved. 
 
 We will not linger over these last harrowing 
 days, when hope slowly died out in Mrs. Gar- 
 field's heart and the only daughter wandered 
 sorrowfully up and down the beach with her 
 young friend, little Miss Rockwell. 
 
 The two girls were sitting on the sand, on 
 the morning of the nineteenth, when Don Rock- 
 well came to tell Mollie that the President 
 wished to see her. 
 
 Alarmed, but forcing a smile to her lips, the 
 child entered the sick-room, kissed her father 
 and told him she was glad to see him looking 
 so much better. 
 
 "You think I do look better, Mollie?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " Yes, I do, papa," she replied as she quietly 
 took a seat near the foot of the couch. 
 
 A few moments after, however, she gasped, 
 swayed and fell to the floor in a dead faint. 
 Quickly Dr. Boynton sprang to lift her up and 
 carry her into the outer air, and there she soon 
 revived, although blood flowed freely from a 
 cut, caused by striking against the bed-post. 
 
 It was thought that the invalid had not no- 
 236 
 
The Garfield Children 
 
 ticed his pet daughter's indisposition, having, 
 apparently, relapsed into the stupor in which he 
 lay most of the time; but when the doctor re- 
 entered the apartment, he roused and said: 
 
 " Poor little Mollie ! She fell over like a 
 log. What was the matter? " 
 
 When assured it was only a short swoon, 
 caused by the closeness of the sick-chamber, he 
 seemed satisfied and dropped off to sleep. But 
 that very night — the evening of September 
 19th, 1 88 1 — there was, again, a hasty sum- 
 mons, not only for Mollie, but for all the house- 
 hold, while, shortly after they had gathered 
 around the bedside, the end came and James 
 Abram Garfield's sufferings were over, he having 
 been President just two hundred days. 
 
 Sad, sad news for all the nation; sadder still 
 for the two boys at Williamstown, where the 
 younger lay ill of malarial fever; and, perhaps, 
 saddest of all, coming to the aged mother, on 
 the eve of her eightieth birthday, in her daugh- 
 ter's home at Solon, Ohio. 
 
 Many can remember and all have heard of 
 the honors paid to the slain chief-magistrate, 
 and how every city, town and hamlet displayed 
 a mass of black and white decorations, through- 
 out the entire country. 
 
 237 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 bia mourned her son," publicly and in the eyes 
 of all the world, ere he was left to his long 
 last sleep in the mausoleum at Cleveland. 
 
 Conspicuous among the floral tributes laid 
 upon the casket, was a great wreath of white 
 rosebuds bearing a card with this inscription : 
 " Queen Victoria to the memory of the late 
 President Garfield, an expression of her sorrow 
 and sympathy with Mrs. Garfield and the Amer- 
 ican nation"; and, undoubtedly some of these 
 buds were among the flowers which the widow, 
 Mollie and Harry carried away, after taking 
 their last " farewell," in the rotunda of the 
 Capitol at Washington. Twenty years later, 
 too, a wreath from Mrs. Garfield was placed 
 upon the bier of England's Queen. 
 
 Charles Jules Guiteau paid the penalty of his 
 crime with his life; but that could not return 
 the affectionate husband and father to the fam- 
 ily of loved ones who now made their home in 
 Cleveland, Mollie being placed at a private 
 school. 
 
 Harry and James being in college, the 
 younger boys were, then, the mother's chief 
 care and most carefully she guarded and in- 
 structed them, preparing them to follow in their 
 brothers' footsteps at Williams, from which in- 
 stitute all four were eventually graduated. 
 238 
 
The Garfield Children 
 
 It was thought the little folks were entirely 
 ignorant of all the public notice they had at- 
 tracted, but when, one day, Mrs. Garfield had 
 been obliged to correct Irvin quite severely, he 
 astonished her by repeating, word for word, an 
 extract from an Eastern paper, in which he was 
 made to appear a very prodigy of juvenile per- 
 fection. 
 
 Receiving a pension from the Government 
 Mrs. Garfield still lives in ease and comfort, 
 while her daughter is happily married. She di- 
 vides her time between the old place of pleasant 
 memories at Mentor, Washington, and Pasa- 
 dena, California, where she has an ideal sum- 
 mer home. 
 
 After completing his education in England, 
 Harry was for some years Professor of Politics 
 at Princeton University. Quite recently, how- 
 ever, he was offered and accepted the presi- 
 dency of Williams College, and is now head of 
 the institution which has been the alma mater 
 of all his family. 
 
 Meanwhile, James Rudolph, having turned 
 his attention to politics, advanced step by step, 
 until he became a member of President Roose- 
 velt's Cabinet as Secretary of the Interior. 
 
 Irvin and Abram, also, are prominent men 
 of affairs and all bid fair to carry out General 
 Garfield's ambitious wishes for his boys. 
 239 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 NELLIE ARTHUR AND HER BROTHER 
 
 ONE September day, in the year of our 
 Lord 1857, a somewhat battered and 
 wave-worn steamer started out from 
 the port of Havana, crowded with passengers, 
 most of whom were homeward bound from 
 the gold fields of California, carrying with 
 them nearly two million dollars worth of the 
 precious metal. 
 
 " Central America " was the name of the 
 craft, and she was commanded by a naval offi- 
 ficer, William Lewis Herndon, a Virginian, 
 who had won a name for himself, by leading 
 an expedition for the exploration of the river 
 Amazon and bringing back most valuable in- 
 formation. 
 
 A gallant captain was he, but his bark was 
 sadly unseaworthy and in no condition to stand 
 rough weather. Therefore, when three days 
 out, a fierce cyclone swooped down upon them, 
 she soon sprung a leak, while the sea ran so 
 240 
 
Nellie Arthur and Her Brother 
 
 high that her fires were quickly extinguished. 
 
 Helplessly the vessel tossed at the mercy of 
 wind and waves and all on deck was panic and 
 confusion. Commander Herndon, alone, re- 
 mained calm. Managing to signal a small 
 brig, he had all the women and children trans- 
 ferred to her in boats and sent his watch to his 
 wife with the message that " he could not leave 
 the steamer while there was a soul on board." 
 Then, although some of the men were picked up 
 by passing crafts, he, with many others, went 
 down with his ship, serenely smoking a cigar as 
 they sank into the watery depths. 
 
 He left a brave memory behind him and a 
 monument to him may be seen at the Naval 
 Academy in Annapolis; but he was sadly 
 mourned, not only by his widow, but by a fair, 
 young daughter, in a pleasant home of the 
 sunny South. 
 
 Bright, vivacious Ellen Lewis Herndon, with 
 the voice of a nightingale, was this Virginia 
 girl, but, in the course of a year or two, she 
 was consoled by a handsome Northerner, from 
 New York — the man of whom we have heard 
 before as the predecessor of Garfield in the 
 primitive New England school — Chester A. 
 Arthur. A fine specimen of manhood was he, 
 tall and well-built, with dignified though genial 
 241 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 manners which he probably inherited from his 
 Irish father, who was a Baptist clergyman first 
 of the Green Mountain State, but later in Man- 
 hattan. 
 
 Wooing and wedding his bride, he carried 
 her off to a beautiful and artistic home in New 
 York, where artists and literati loved to congre- 
 gate, for though a politician, Mr. Arthur drew 
 a sharply denned line betwixt his private and 
 public life. Now, too, musicians were quickly 
 drawn there, by the rare gift of the charming 
 woman of whom it was said: " Wherever she 
 was, there was good cheer and a sunny atmos- 
 phere." 
 
 Ere long, a son was born unto them and 
 given the name of the brave explorer and gal- 
 lant commander of the " Central America." 
 Wee William, however, scarce survived infancy, 
 while it was several years before another boy 
 came to fill the place of their lost darling and 
 be called after his father. 
 
 Little Chester Alan was a great pet, but 
 Mr. Arthur longed for a daughter and a friend 
 has told me how, one November night, he came 
 running over to her house, all aglow with de- 
 light, to inform her husband that he had a 
 baby girl. 
 
 242 
 
Nellie Arthur and Her Brother 
 
 " I had to come and tell it," he said; and 
 this tiny maid was christened Ellen for her 
 mother, although always known as Nellie, or 
 Nell. 
 
 The doors of all the best houses in the me- 
 tropolis were open to the Arthurs, while the 
 sweet voice of the wife was often heard at 
 concerts and musicales for church or charity. 
 The husband, too, like the majority of our 
 Presidents, had attained considerable reputa- 
 tion as a lawyer, besides being Collector of the 
 Port of New York. He was, likewise, looked 
 upon as a man of justice and humanity, es- 
 pecially after he took up the case of a poor 
 colored girl, a Sunday-school superintendent, 
 who was ejected from a street car, after paying 
 her fare. 
 
 Chester Arthur brought suit for damages 
 and recovered five hundred dollars for this Liz- 
 zie Jennings, as well as bringing the whole mat- 
 ter before the public, which resulted in the rail- 
 road company being forced to reverse its order 
 against passengers of color. 
 
 Mrs. Arthur, with the natural shrinking of 
 
 a rather retiring character, often protested 
 
 against her husband " dabbling " in politics, 
 
 but they had for him a fascination which he 
 
 243 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 could not resist and she passed out of his life 
 the very year that he was nominated and elected 
 to the Vice-Presidency. 
 
 Her departure was so sudden that one who 
 knew her well, said: " I think of her only as a 
 radiant woman and there is associated with her 
 death no thought of sickness or physical de- 
 cline. Her death was the first pain she had 
 cost her friends." 
 
 The Mendelssohn Glee Club of New York 
 begged the privilege of singing at her funeral. 
 
 The loss of the wife he adored was a bitter 
 blow to the aspiring candidate, just at this 
 crisis in his career, and it left very desolate the 
 motherless boy and girl in the big Lexington 
 Avenue house. Fortunately, Chester, Jr., was 
 now a well-grown lad in his teens, old enough 
 to be sent away to school; while Mr. Arthur's 
 youngest sister, Mrs. McElroy, a delightful and 
 cultured lady of Albany, came forward and 
 took little eight-year-old Nellie under her kindly 
 care. 
 
 The following twelvemonth was, of course, 
 an exciting and anxious one for them all and, 
 I think, no one felt President Garfield's assas- 
 sination and death more than Vice-President 
 Arthur. Never could he hear his colleague's 
 sufferings mentioned without deep emotion and 
 244 
 
Nellie Arthur and Her Brother 
 
 he keenly felt sundry cruel insinuations that he 
 had been indirectly the cause of the act. 
 
 It was with the greatest reluctance that he ac- 
 cepted the martyred ruler's place and very 
 quietly he took the oath of office, at his own 
 home in New York, in the gray, early dawn 
 of a dreary September day. 
 
 But if he entered the White House under a 
 cloud, he came out of it with the respect of 
 friends and foes, and his administration, to-day, 
 is acknowledged to be one of the best in all our 
 history. 
 
 It was some months before he took his chil- 
 dren to Washington. Indeed, for the remain- 
 der of the year, the Mansion was kept closed 
 as a mark of respect to the Garnelds, and then, 
 Mr. Arthur was not at all pleased with the 
 presidential home. 
 
 A long time had elapsed since Martha John- 
 son Patterson gave it her thorough renovating, 
 and again the carpets were worn, the furniture 
 faded and broken and the china chipped and 
 mismatched. Calling for the Commissioner of 
 Public Buildings and Grounds, he informed him 
 of the changes he desired. 
 
 " But, Mr. President," protested the Com- 
 missioner, " there is no money to do it." 
 
 " You go ahead and do the work," com- 
 245 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 manded Chester Arthur. " I will not live in 
 a house looking this way. If Congress does 
 not make an appropriation, I will have it done 
 and pay for it out of my own pocket. I will 
 not live in a house like this." 
 
 So again the Nation's Homestead was re- 
 paired and refurnished and the Government 
 footed the bills. 
 
 All was in fine order, then, when Mrs. Mc- 
 Elroy, with her two daughters, May and Jes- 
 sie, came to assist her brother in doing the 
 honors of the Republican Court, and brought 
 small Nellie, who is remembered at Washington 
 as a graceful little maid, with much of her 
 father's charm of manner and the warmest of 
 hearts, which showed itself in efforts to give 
 pleasure to those poorer than herself. She was 
 not there constantly, however, as during part of 
 these four years she was a pupil of a French 
 school in New York, while Alan was at col- 
 lege. Holiday time, though, saw both at home 
 and they frequently brought young friends 
 with them to enjoy the amusements of the Cap- 
 ital. 
 
 A lady who was once one of these youthful 
 
 guests has sent me an account of an Eastertide 
 
 pilgrimage which she made with them to their 
 
 grandfather's monument at Annapolis, accom- 
 
 246 
 
Nellie Arthur and Her Brother 
 
 parried by the President, the Arthur children's 
 godmother, Mrs. Hunt, and other people of 
 note. A swift run in a special car, through 
 the sweet blossom-scented country and then they 
 were received at the Naval Academy by a salute 
 of twenty-one guns and a general review of the 
 cadets. This was followed by a luncheon at 
 the Superintendent's quarters and, of course, a 
 visit to the tall shaft of Quincy granite 
 bearing the name of " Herndon." 
 
 But, on the whole, accounts of this regime 
 are extremely meagre owing to Mr. Arthur's 
 distaste for having his domestic affairs heralded 
 abroad. 
 
 He would not permit chronicles of the " daily 
 doings of the White House " to be published, 
 and as one writer has said: 
 
 " The President's children were not photo- 
 graphed and paragraphed and made the sub- 
 ject of a thousand flat and fatuous stories." 
 
 Indeed, the Arthur family was a tantalizing 
 disappointment to all the Paul and Paulina 
 Prys of the press and they made the most of 
 one tale that leaked out regarding the portrait 
 of a pretty woman hanging in the President's 
 private apartments, before which masses of cut 
 flowers, from the White House conservatories, 
 were heaped every morning by his personal or- 
 247 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 der. It was with chagrin, then, they learned 
 that the picture was the likeness of Mr. Ar- 
 thur's dead wife — little Nellie's mother. 
 
 Mrs. McElroy, who was a graduate of Mrs. 
 Emma Willard's famous Seminary in Troy, 
 made a most charming hostess and the hospi- 
 tality of the Mansion was dispensed with a 
 gracious dignity that had never been known 
 there before. 
 
 New Year's Day has always been a gala day 
 at the White House, so it was on the first of 
 January after Garfield's assassination, that 
 President Arthur held his first public reception 
 and all those who came to shake the new magis- 
 trate's hand were deeply interested in the tall 
 youth who assisted the ladies in the Blue Room, 
 and in the small daughter of the family who 
 appeared dressed in a pretty frock of pale blue 
 cashmere and accompanied by two little school 
 friends and the children of Mrs. Eugene Hale. 
 
 They were a very frightened, pale-faced flock 
 of youngsters, however, when Mr. Allen, one 
 of the Diplomatic Corps from the Hawaiian 
 Islands, having paid his respects to the Presi- 
 dent, passed into the ante-room and, almost im- 
 mediately, fell dead upon the floor. Of course, 
 the reception was at once stopped and gloom 
 248 
 
Nellie Arthur and Her Brother 
 
 enshrouded the Mansion. On the next occa- 
 sion of this kind, General and Mrs. Grant as- 
 sisted Mrs. McElroy and her daughters, but 
 when the Drawing-Room receptions were held 
 a bevy of young ladies was invited to give lus- 
 ter to the functions. There were, generally, 
 three relays of these, each taking its turn in 
 receiving the callers, while the others formed a 
 background of youth and beauty. When at 
 home you may be sure Nellie was always in the 
 midst of this " rosebud garden of girls," a veri- 
 table pet among the petticoats. 
 
 The President delighted, also, in dinner par- 
 ties, both public and private, and one Saturday 
 night a party of his old cronies came from New 
 York, each bringing his own oyster fork which, 
 after using, he presented to Mr. Arthur as a 
 souvenir. 
 
 A prince of hosts was he, as well as a.->bon 
 vivant, and courteous in the extreme, as was 
 shown at a banquet when two rural Congress- 
 men attempted to spear some small Spanish 
 olives with their forks. So vigorous was the 
 onslaught of one, that the olive bounded out of 
 the dish and landed in the shirt bosom of a 
 guest sitting opposite. 
 
 Miss May McElroy and some others were 
 249 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 inclined to laugh, but the President in the most 
 dignified manner warned them by a look and 
 adroitly turned the matter off. 
 
 Although the son of a Baptist clergyman, 
 he became an Episcopalian and he and his house- 
 hold attended service at St. John's — the old 
 church of the Presidents — which, at that 
 period, had an exceedingly talented and popular 
 rector who is now a Bishop of a mid-western 
 state. It was in this historic edifice, too, that 
 he placed a beautiful window, as a memorial to 
 his wife. 
 
 Meanwhile, young Alan Arthur was shooting 
 up into a long, lean youth an inch taller than 
 his father, and leading a rather happy-go-lucky 
 student's life at Columbia and Princeton, where 
 he had a tendency toward getting into the trou- 
 bles that come only too easy to undergraduates. 
 
 The only one, too, of Garfield's Cabinet 
 whom President Arthur retained, was a former 
 White House boy, and the son of a ruler, slain 
 in office — Robert Lincoln. 
 
 Almost too swiftly three years and a half sped 
 away and then, with a cordial clasp of the hand 
 and a few words of congratulation to his suc- 
 cessor — the first successful Democratic candi- 
 date since Buchanan — Chester Arthur slipped 
 250 
 
Nellie Arthur and Her Brother 
 
 away from Washington and back into private 
 life, with his little family. 
 
 The young girls of the capital, though, sorely 
 regretted their going, and a delegation of them 
 followed genial Mrs. McElroy to the station, 
 and crowded the flower-laden car to bid " good- 
 bye " to her, her daughters and little niece. 
 
 There are those who claim that Mr. Arthur's 
 political career and worries shortened his life, 
 for he died suddenly and was laid beside his 
 " sweet Virginia bride " in Rural Cemetery, 
 while Nellie was still in her early teens. 
 
 Good " Aunt Mary," however, continued to 
 be ever like a mother to the young orphan, and 
 she dwelt at Albany with her kind relatives 
 until she wedded Mr. Charles Pinkerton. Be- 
 ing something of an invalid, she has, since her 
 marriage, led rather a retired life, chiefly in one 
 of New York's quietest streets; but has lately 
 decided upon a suburban home in hopes that it 
 may restore her health. 
 
 As for Chester Alan Arthur, Jr., he appears 
 to care little for America or Americans, and 
 having married a lady of wealth, spends most 
 of his days on the other side of the Atlantic, 
 in the capitals of Europe. 
 
 251 
 
F 
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 a president's ward 
 
 CC "J AOUR kinds of blood flows in my veins 
 And governs each, in turn, my brains. 
 From Cleveland, Porter, Sewell, 
 Waters, 
 
 I had my parentage in quarters. 
 
 My father's father's name I know, 
 
 And further back no doubt might go. 
 
 Compound on compound from the flood 
 
 Makes up my old ancestral blood ; 
 
 But what my sires of old time were, 
 
 I neither wish to know, nor care. 
 
 Some may be wise — and others fools; 
 
 Some might be tyrants — others tools ; 
 
 Some might have wealth — and others lack ; 
 
 Some fair, perchance — some almost black ; 
 
 No matter what in days of yore, 
 
 Since now they're known and seen no more." 
 
 These quaint lines were written by keen, old 
 Aaron Cleveland, a Connecticut minister, some 
 hundred and odd years ago, and the same " an- 
 cestral blood " flowed in the veins of his grand- 
 
 252 
 
A President's Ward 
 
 son, who first saw the light in an antique house, 
 with gable ends and ivy-covered porch, stand- 
 ing in the obscure New Jersey village of Cald- 
 well, where church documents still bear this 
 record: " Stephen Grover Cleveland, baptized 
 July i, 1837; born March 18, 1837." 
 
 Little Grover was the fifth of the nine chil- 
 dren who called the Rev. Richard Cleveland 
 " father," and during that worthy Presbyterian 
 divine's six years of pastorate in Caldwell he 
 had a child christened every year. 
 
 They had moved to Fayetteville, N. Y., how- 
 ever, before the boy was old enough to go to 
 school, and there he seems to have been a mis- 
 chievous urchin, sticking bent pins in the seats 
 of chairs and playing pranks which sometimes 
 brought down upon him the wrath of his fellow 
 pupils. 
 
 An old farmer used to love to tell the story 
 how he once thrashed an embryo President of 
 the United States. 
 
 " It was one of those old-fashioned, rough- 
 and-tumble fights, in which each fellow pulls 
 hair, scratches, kicks and cuffs to his heart's con- 
 tent," he would say, with a chuckle. 
 
 " I was a much more powerful lad than 
 Grover. Soon I had him down. I kept yelling 
 out to him, ' You will stick pins in my seat, will 
 253 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 you ! You will, will you ! ' And each time I 
 hit him another bat in the eye or neck. Well, 
 Shell Pratt and Jewett Dunbar finally pulled me 
 off, made us shake hands, and declare the fight 
 over, with victory for me." 
 
 Mr. Cleveland, too, remembered this, but 
 bore no malice, and when President, invited his 
 quandom enemy to dine at the White House. 
 
 But so many little folks in the parsonage to 
 feed and clothe, made a terrible drain upon the 
 poor clergyman's stipend and, as soon as possi- 
 ble, the boys were obliged to turn in and help 
 support the family. So, at an early age, Grover 
 found employment in a " general store," where 
 he swept and cleaned, opened and closed shut- 
 ters and waited on customers for the magnifi- 
 cent sum of fifty dollars per year; living, mean- 
 while, over the shop. 
 
 That it was not a bed of roses we may gather 
 from a description given by a roommate of 
 young Cleveland's at this time. He says : 
 " We lay upon a tick stuffed with straw, which 
 had the uncomfortable peculiarity of accumulat- 
 ing in knots here and there. I recall how, often 
 in the night, Grover would stir uneasily on his 
 hard bed, maybe even getting up and, with 
 his hand, reaching down in the tick to remove 
 the troublesome lump on which he was resting. 
 254 
 
A President's Ward 
 
 In that room, without carpet, without wall- 
 paper, without pictures — drear and desolate, 
 we two lived together one whole year. In the 
 winter we sometimes almost froze. There was 
 no stove in the room, heat coming up from a 
 pipe leading from the store below. Rats ran 
 in the walls and often peered at us from out 
 holes in the plaster." 
 
 Better days, though, dawned, and the lad was 
 able to carry out a fond desire and attend an 
 Academy at Clinton while, at seventeen, and 
 after his father's sudden death at Holland 
 Patent, we find him teaching in the New York 
 Institution for the Blind. 
 
 Sedulously he labored among the sightless 
 ones, but it was a happy hour for Grover Cleve- 
 land when he decided to follow Horace Gree- 
 ley's advice — " Go West, young man ! Go 
 West!" 
 
 Not that he went very far; for, although he 
 started for Ohio — then considered quite a 
 western state — he stopped at Buffalo, to visit 
 an uncle, who was a wealthy stock-raiser just 
 without the town, and there he was induced to 
 remain. There, too, he took up legal study and 
 there laid the foundation of his fortunes, becom- 
 ing partner in a law firm, Mayor of the city and 
 Governor of New York. 
 
 2CC 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 A free " hail-fellow-well-met " bachelor life 
 he led for many years, but he was ever the chief 
 support of his mother, as long as she lived, in 
 the little cottage at Holland Patent; besides 
 giving a most liberal education to his youngest 
 sister, Rose, an original brainy girl, who, from 
 a tiny child, would browse amongst her fa- 
 ther's books, and loved reading far better than 
 play. 
 
 Madame Brecker's French kindergarten was, 
 perhaps, the most fashionable school for little 
 Buffalo children in the late sixties, and there a 
 merry set of small scholars learned to chatter 
 in the polite language of la belle France. Con- 
 spicuous among these was a brown-haired las- 
 sie, with soft violet eyes, who displayed an un- 
 usually quick understanding and aptitude for 
 study. This was young Frances Folsom, the 
 only child of one of Mr. Cleveland's law part- 
 ners. The bachelor mayor was a frequent 
 visitor in her home and made quite a pet of the 
 bright little girl, so when, in 1875, Oscar Fol- 
 som was killed in a carriage accident, it was no 
 surprise that he had left his associate, guardian 
 to his eleven-year-old daughter. 
 
 For a time her mother carried her off to Me- 
 dina, her own native place, but she later re- 
 256 
 
A President's Ward 
 
 turned to Buffalo and attended the Central 
 School, from which she was graduated with a 
 certificate that permitted her to enter the sopho- 
 more class at Wells College, the institution se- 
 lected by her guardian for the " finishing " of 
 her education, and where she passed three bliss- 
 ful years, being a favorite with both teachers 
 and pupils, all of whom, you may be sure, took 
 keen note of the letters and flowers that came 
 to Miss Frances from the Governor of New 
 York. It was while she was a collegiate that 
 her guardian was nominated for President, and 
 in order to show how the prospect appeared 
 from a schoolgirl's standpoint, I venture to copy 
 a letter which was published a few years ago in a 
 popular periodical, and which was written, at 
 the time, by one of Frances Folsom's class- 
 mates to a friend in New York : 
 
 "Wells, October 23, 1884. 
 " Most of the girls here are much older than 
 I, for you must remember this is a full-fledged 
 college, and not a school. I must tell you about 
 one girl here, a Miss Folsom (not to be at all 
 conceited, she is ' gone ' on me, to use a common 
 expression), who is awfully nice. She is very 
 handsome, and, my dear, I want you to under- 
 stand Grover Cleveland is perfectly devoted to 
 257 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 her. Sends her flowers all the time and writes 
 her regularly every week. Of course, she is 
 very much excited to know how the election is 
 coming off, as it will in one case be slightly 
 agreeable to her. 
 
 " I had too much fun with her the other 
 evening. She said: 'Girls, wouldn't it be 
 pretty nice for me to spend a winter at the 
 White House ? ' 
 
 " I said, ' Why, of course; but you must be 
 sure to invite us all to see you.' 
 
 " I am sadly afraid she will never spend 
 such a winter, aren't you? " 
 
 But she did, as we all now know, and many 
 winters, while her schoolmates were not for- 
 gotten, but given a share of her good times. 
 
 The following June, too, when the " class of 
 '85 " held its commencement at Wells, no 
 " sweet girl graduate " attracted more notice 
 than pretty Frances, while the most superb of 
 all the floral tributes showered upon the maid- 
 ens fair, were those which came to her from the 
 White House conservatories. 
 
 For long ere this the President had discovered 
 that his former partner's daughter was some- 
 thing dearer than a ward, and undoubtedly a 
 few tender words were spoken ere she sailed 
 258 
 
A President's Ward 
 
 away with her mother for a winter of sight- 
 seeing amidst the wonders of the Old World. 
 
 I fancy it was no great pleasure to Miss Rose 
 Elizabeth Cleveland to give up the teaching and 
 lecturing, by which she was winning a name for 
 herself, and go to assist her brother in his so- 
 cial duties at Washington. She did so very 
 pleasantly, however, and is remembered as a dis- 
 tinct personality, with a somewhat masculine de- 
 cision in her bearing and her hair cropped as 
 close as a man's. She could entertain, for she 
 talked well, almost as she wrote, but some 
 Congressmen and their wives were rather 
 overpowered and bewildered by the classical 
 quotations with which she interspersed her con- 
 versation. 
 
 Curiously enough, it was " Bachelor " Cleve- 
 land who, more than any President, took the 
 hearts of young Washingtonians by storm and 
 made for himself a lovable reputation among 
 them. It chanced in this wise: For many a 
 year Easter Monday has been considered " Chil- 
 dren's Day " at the Capital, for then, rich and 
 poor, white, black and brown, come to roll their 
 gaily colored eggs down the knolls on the White 
 House grounds and hold a joyous spring festa. 
 Formerly the merrymakers seldom saw the fam- 
 259 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 ily, but on the Easter after Mr. Cleveland's in- 
 auguration it in some way became whispered 
 about that the Head of the Nation wished a 
 word with the little folks. 
 
 Instantly the Mansion was besieged, and, 
 with rare good humor, the President and his 
 sister received them in the East Room, while, as 
 one witness describes it, " The spectacle was like 
 a picture from Gulliver's Travels. Lilli- 
 putians delighted to have the giant reach down 
 and take their diminutive hands in his ample 
 palm, and not a few, in their excitement, made 
 freewill offerings of Easter eggs which had seen 
 hard service." 
 
 It was a holiday long to be remembered, as 
 it certainly was by one schoolboy, who, on hear- 
 ing two strangers admire a handsome turnout 
 and wonder who the occupants could be, stepped 
 proudly up and said: " Why, that's the Presi- 
 dent! Don't you know the President? I do! '' 
 
 " Oh, indeed! " responded the lady. " It is 
 very kind of you to tell us who it is. But where 
 did you learn to know the President? " 
 
 " I went to the White House and he had us 
 all come to see him," and, with animated face, 
 the lad described that wonderful Easter Mon- 
 day reception in such glowing terms that, as 
 260 
 
A President's Ward 
 
 the visitor turned away, she remarked to her 
 companion : 
 
 " I wish the President could have seen and 
 heard that child." 
 
 While in the White House, Miss Rose took 
 advantage of the eclat of her position to publish 
 a book entitled, " George Eliot's Poetry and 
 Other Studies," which became so much the 
 vogue that it ran through twelve editions within 
 a year, and brought her in twenty-five thousand 
 dollars in royalties. 
 
 This was not altogether pleasing to her 
 brother, and they disagreed in consequence, but 
 she remained faithful to her post until the spring 
 of 1886, when rumors became rife all over the 
 land that the President was about to take unto 
 himself a wife, and that, following the custom 
 of great rulers, he would be married in the offi- 
 cial residence, rather than in that of the bride. 
 Indeed, the bride-elect was still beyond seas. 
 But as the jocund month of May drew to a close 
 she came sailing back, bringing with her a store 
 of happy memories of foreign scenes and a most 
 dainty and elaborate French trousseau. A few 
 days at the Gilsey House, in New York, and 
 then, early in the morning of June second, Miss 
 Rose met bonny Frances at the station in Wash- 
 261 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 ington and escorted her to the Republican Court, 
 where the wedding was solemnized that same 
 evening. 
 
 Grover Cleveland was the first and, as yet, 
 only President to be married in the White 
 House itself, and the old mansion fairly blos- 
 somed out with palms and flowers and the na- 
 tional colors. The historic Blue Room, where 
 the ceremony was performed, was particularly 
 beautiful. The tapers in the great candle- 
 stands, five feet high, that had been presented to 
 General Jackson, were lighted, and the whole 
 apartment transformed into a bower of tropical 
 plants, with a floral counterfeit of flames in the 
 fireplace. Upon the east mantel the joyful day 
 was calendared in pansies, while the opposite 
 one, banked with the queen of flowers, shading 
 from lightest pink to deepest crimson, displayed 
 the monogram C. F. in moss and white roses. 
 
 The girlish bride looked like a rose herself 
 as she entered on the arm of her childhood's 
 friend and guardian, and was united to him by 
 the Rev. Dr. Sunderland, in the presence of a 
 few intimate friends and relatives and mem- 
 bers of the Cabinet, while the Marine Band 
 softly played Mendelssohn's Wedding March. 
 
 A President's salute of twenty-one guns, from 
 the arsenal, announced abroad that the ward 
 262 
 
A President's Ward 
 
 had become a wife, and the church bells through- 
 out the capital city rang a gleeful marriage 
 chime. 
 
 The reception was small and informal, the 
 most interesting incident being a message of 
 congratulation received from Queen Victoria; 
 and then the President and his girl wife slipped 
 away through the south portico, though not 
 quickly enough to escape the customary shower 
 of rice and old slippers, and started for Deer 
 Park, in the mountains of Maryland, where a 
 cosy cottage had been placed at their disposal. 
 
 Here they hoped to spend a quiet and retired 
 honeymoon, screened from the public eye. 
 What, then, was their dismay the following 
 morning to find a pavilion had sprung up, 
 mushroom-like, in a night, directly opposite their 
 abode, and this was thronged with newspaper 
 correspondents, who leveled a battery of field 
 glasses in their direction, greedy to note and 
 record every movement and detail for the ben- 
 efit of their too curious readers. 
 
 I warrant Mr. Cleveland then felt like sup- 
 pressing the "freedom of the press." 
 
 The youngest mistress of the White House 
 since Dolly Madison, Frances Folsom Cleve- 
 land at once won all hearts by her tact and grace, 
 while at public receptions (of the " pump-han- 
 263 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 die " variety) her manner was so charmingly 
 cordial that young men were wont, after greet- 
 ing her, to run around and get on the line again 
 in order to shake hands a second time with the 
 captivating first lady of the land. 
 
 Devoted to music, she gave many delightful 
 musicales in the pretty Blue Room, and also sur- 
 rounded herself with song birds, canaries and 
 mocking birds being her chief favorites. To 
 these she became much attached, so when one 
 feathered pet chanced to be killed by a rat she 
 had it stuffed and mounted for her own apart- 
 ment. 
 
 Her husband was not so partial to the aviary, 
 but liked to please his young wife, and an old 
 retainer of the White House has told us how 
 one night when the President was working late 
 in his library, he called him in, between two and 
 three in the morning, saying, " I wish, P — , 
 you would take that mocking bird down; it an- 
 noys me." 
 
 This was done, and the tiny creature's un- 
 timely solo ceased. 
 
 Presently, however, Mr. Cleveland came out 
 again to inquire, " Where did you put him? " 
 
 " On Mr. Loeffler's desk." 
 
 " But, oh, P — , you don't think he will catch 
 cold there, do you? " 
 
 264 
 
A President's Ward 
 
 And nothing would do but the bird must be 
 moved behind a screen to protect him from the 
 chill night air. 
 
 Certainly Mrs. Cleveland did much to make 
 the twenty-second administration a success, for, 
 as has been said of the shining light of the De- 
 mocracy — 
 
 " Nothing in his life had been so becoming to 
 him as the doubling of it." 
 
 When, too, after her husband's defeat by Mr. 
 Harrison, they made for themselves a home in 
 New York, she was as popular there as in Wash- 
 ington. 
 
 But we shall hear more of this President and 
 his ward anon. 
 
 265 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 " BABY McKEE " AND HIS SISTER 
 
 THERE were gay times at Oxford, 
 Ohio, in the good old days, when the 
 students at the Miami University and 
 the girls from the Oxford Female College met 
 together for social amusement, and many a mild 
 flirtation enlivened the rugged hill of learning in 
 the quiet, collegiate town. 
 
 One of the leading belles was Miss Caroline 
 Scott, the graceful dark-eyed daughter of the 
 principal of the Young Ladies' Seminary, and 
 it created some surprise when her preference was 
 given to a small, slender, rather insignificant- 
 looking youth, plain of face and dress, and with 
 an extremely diffident manner. 
 
 But if short of stature, Benjamin Harrison 
 had a long and proud lineage, one of his ances- 
 tors being a signer of the Declaration of Inde- 
 pendence, while he likewise boasted a strain of 
 Indian blood in his veins, from Pocahontas 
 through her marriage with John Rolfe, gentle- 
 man. 
 
 266 
 
"Baby McKee" and His Sister 
 
 Perhaps, too, as the lovers wandered under 
 the trees on moonlight nights, he would recall 
 for his sweetheart his childish memories of his 
 grandfather, brave old " Tippecanoe," who had 
 been President for a brief season and in whose 
 house he himself was born. 
 
 I am sure, too, he must have described to her 
 his own home, the fertile farm on a long tongue 
 of land running between the Ohio and Miami 
 rivers, and not many miles from the old Harri- 
 son mansion. For here not only had he lived 
 all his boyhood, but gone to school as well, 
 since his father, John Scott Harrison, followed 
 his parent's example, and, like him, had his chil- 
 dren's earliest education given them at home, 
 together with their cousins and friends. In a 
 rough log schoolhouse, with a floor of puncheon 
 and heated by a great wood fire, the little fellows 
 spent their winter mornings, seated on high 
 benches, with their tiny legs dangling, learning 
 their A B C's, or perhaps singing in chorus : 
 
 " 5 times 5 are 25 
 
 5 times 6 are 30 
 
 5 times 7 are 35 
 
 5 times 8 are 40." 
 
 and kindred instructive ditties. 
 
 Out of school hours, however, they ran wild 
 267 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 or helped with the milking, planting or havest- 
 ing, while one of small Ben's greatest pleasures 
 was a visit to " Grandma " at the homestead. 
 
 He was a prime favorite with the gentle old 
 lady, and with her parting kiss she was always 
 wont to slip a piece of money into his hand. 
 
 " Some day I will take you to North Bend to 
 see her and the dear old farm," we can imagine 
 the student Harrison saying; and so he did, just 
 as soon as he and his fiancee had completed their 
 college course — they both being graduated the 
 same June — and he had made some progress 
 in his legal studies, for they were married in the 
 autumn of 1853. 
 
 The honeymoon was a halcyon one, but the 
 following year saw the youthful pair starting 
 life in a boarding-house at Indianapolis, with a 
 cash capital of just eight hundred dollars. 
 
 Mr. Harrison earned his first money as a 
 court crier, but ere long began the practice of 
 his profession in a small way. One who knew 
 him at that period says : 
 
 " At first one wondered that a young man ap- 
 parently so lacking in assertion, should presume 
 to entrust himself so far from home. The won- 
 der was heightened when it became known that 
 the fledgling was the grandson of President Wil- 
 liam Henry Harrison. But when he spoke his 
 268 
 
"Baby McKee" and His Sister 
 
 voice was pleasant, words well chosen and intel- 
 ligent." 
 
 Heredity and environment combined can do a 
 great deal for any one, so, although his boy, 
 Russell Benjamin — born also on the Western 
 Reserve — was the child of comparative pov- 
 erty, before the only daughter, Mary Scott, ar- 
 rived, two years later, Dame Fortune had smiled 
 upon the struggling lawyer and the little maid 
 was welcomed to a comfortable and spacious 
 home of the Hoosier State. 
 
 Leaders in all church and charitable work, 
 these good people soon drew around them a con- 
 genial circle, but their chief care was the hap- 
 piness and welfare of their children, while they 
 often had with them a favorite niece of Mrs. 
 Harrison's, bright young Mary Scott Lord. 
 Very merry times, then, the two Marys had to- 
 gether, as well as Russell, who was graduated 
 at Lafayette and studied to be a mining en- 
 gineer. 
 
 Like so many others, however, Benjamin 
 Harrison heard and heeded Columbia's " call 
 to arms," and it was with a brave voice, if a 
 sinking heart, that his wife bade him " Go and 
 help to save your country and let us trust in the 
 shielding care of a Higher Power for your pro- 
 tection and safe return." 
 269 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 In the shelter of home, too, she and her 
 daughter rejoiced over the gallantry displayed 
 at Resaca and Peach Tree Creek, which made 
 him a brigadier-general, and certainly no 
 prouder women ever entered Washington than 
 those who accompanied " Little Ben," as he 
 was dubbed in the army, when he was sent to the 
 Senate. 
 
 Ever domestic in his tastes and a devoted hus- 
 band and father, this western man is .perhaps 
 best remembered as a " grandfather," for both 
 Russell and Mary were married ere he became 
 President, and it was the latter's infant son, 
 small Benjamin McKee — or " Baby McKee," 
 as he was generally called — who was the most 
 conspicuous childish figure during the Harrison 
 regime. 
 
 So, again, the White House nursery was 
 thrown open and became the centre of the house- 
 hold, with the sturdy youngster whose "doings " 
 were chronicled far and wide, his wee sister and 
 a tiny Marthena Harrison. It was in the his- 
 toric Blue Room, too, that little Mary Dodge 
 McKee was christened by her great-grandfather, 
 the venerable Dr. Scott, with water brought 
 from the river Jordan. The President fairly 
 doted on these small folk, and never let a morn- 
 ing pass without going in to see them, while he 
 270 
 
"Baby McKee" and His Sister 
 
 provided for them a host of pleasures and made 
 much of Christmas and birthdays. Especially 
 was " Baby McKee's " fourth anniversary cele- 
 brated in fine style. 
 
 Together, Mr. Harrison and his grandson 
 led the procession of little guests to the dining- 
 room, where, at a round table, were set fifteen 
 high chairs. Two flags crossed on a plat of 
 ferns formed the centre-piece and the favors 
 at the places were rush baskets of bonbons, the 
 handles fashioned of tricolor ribbons. Here 
 and there, on the board, appeared dishes of 
 beaten biscuits, made for the occasion in the 
 form of tiny chickens with outspread wings; 
 and the menu included bouillon, ice cream and 
 cake. 
 
 Mothers and nurses waited on the happy 
 children, while the Marine Band discoursed 
 sweet strains, and, at the close of the collation, 
 all, old and young, danced together a Virginia 
 reel. 
 
 The Easter egg-rolling, too, was always 
 watched by the President and his little nursery 
 people from the porticoes and any Paschal hero 
 was applauded to the echo. 
 
 Master " Baby," though, could be very ob- 
 streperous on occasions, as when the Bell-Ring- 
 ers gave a grand concert in the East Room, 
 271 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 he persisted in pushing in close to the perform- 
 ers to examine their curious musical instruments 
 and it was all mother and nurse could do to keep 
 him in order. 
 
 To Mrs. Harrison, the fine conservatories 
 were a great pleasure. Always having a taste 
 for painting, she now took art lessons and spent 
 much time decorating china with flowers, espe- 
 cially orchids, of which she was particularly 
 fond. These rare blossoms, too, now first ap- 
 peared on the White House table, at a dinner 
 given to the Diplomatic Corps. 
 
 She was, also, much interested in collecting 
 relics of her predecessors and in plans for en- 
 larging and improving the official residence. 
 These plans were not carried out until long 
 after her time, but in the restored greater 
 " Mansion " of to-day can be traced many of 
 her artistic ideas. 
 
 I It was fortunate there were bright, young 
 faces and sweet flowers to enliven the old place 
 at this period, for, after all, there was more of 
 shadow than of sunshine in the twenty-third 
 administration. 
 
 Starting with the tragic burning of Senator 
 Tracy's house, when his wife and daughter per- 
 ished and were buried from the Nation's Home- 
 stead, it was not long before the Russian grippe, 
 272 
 
"Baby McKee" and His Sister 
 
 then making a devastating progress through 
 the land, attacked the White House and every 
 member of the family fell a victim, except the 
 President himself. 
 
 Devotedly, Mrs. Harrison nursed all the rest 
 and then succumbed herself, and from that ill- 
 ness her health was seriously impaired. Nor 
 was this improved by the double sorrow which 
 came to her, in the death of her sister, Mrs. 
 Russell, and of her father, the Rev. John W. 
 Scott — the latter a very old man of more than 
 fourscore and ten — both of whom made their 
 home with her in Washington. 
 
 As her mother sank into invalidism, Mrs. 
 McKee took upon herself more and more of the 
 social duties of their position, and in these she 
 was often assisted by the friend and " Cousin 
 Mary " of former days, who was now the gay, 
 young widow — Mrs. Dimmock. This lady 
 spent much time with her relatives and it was no 
 infrequent sight to see the President taking long 
 walks with his daughter or niece, when they 
 often covered a good ten miles on foot. 
 
 Great rejoicing was there, also, when Benja- 
 min Harrison was nominated for a second 
 term, a rejoicing which extended even to the 
 children, for there, in the very midst of the 
 throng of Congressmen, Cabinet officers, notifi- 
 273 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 cation committee and several hundred invited 
 guests, appeared the favorite little namesake 
 grandson, in white flannel suit and blue stock- 
 ings, closely guarded by his German nurse. 
 
 The speeches ended, all became quite up- 
 roarious for the White House. Some cheered; 
 Senators, Judges, young ladies and matrons 
 clapped and exchanged a cross-fire of jokes and 
 good-natured repartee; while salad, sandwiches 
 and lemonade went merrily round. As for the 
 President, he beamed like a full moon; shook 
 hands with everybody; danced "Baby" Mc- 
 Kee in the air, and, going out into the corridor, 
 pressed some outsiders who loitered there to 
 come in and partake of the luncheon. 
 
 It was a general jollification. 
 
 Mrs. Harrison was too unwell to be present 
 on this festive occasion, for she was failing fast. 
 The following October, she and the husband of 
 her youth spent the thirty-ninth anniversary of 
 their marriage together in the big residence, 
 but, five days later, she passed quietly away and 
 never knew that he lost the election to the very 
 man whom he had defeated, four years before. 
 
 So the New Year of 1893 was anything but 
 
 a happy one at the Republican Court. The 
 
 usual reception was given up and the White 
 
 House looked dark and lonely, for, not only 
 
 274 
 
"Baby McKee" and His Sister 
 
 was it in mourning, but quarantined as well, 
 since in the upper story Russell's baby girl, little 
 Marthena Harrison, lay ill with scarlet fever. 
 
 Sadly, then, this Hoosier family retired from 
 office, but for years " Baby " McKee attracted 
 a world of attention wherever he went, either 
 in Indiana, at Boston, or, during the summer, at 
 Saratoga, where he was often seen riding his 
 bicycle beside his mother, who was, also, a 
 devotee of the wheel, then in the height of its 
 popularity. 
 
 The ex-President was still devoted to his 
 namesake and the small girls, while, one day, 
 he presented them with a step-grandmamma, 
 and who should it be, think you? Why, none 
 other than the " Cousin Mary Dimmock," 
 whom they had known all their lives. 
 
 With this second wife, then, Benjamin Har- 
 rison, twenty-third ruler of the United States, 
 passed his last days and, when called up higher, 
 left another little daughter — the child of his 
 old age — who seems a very small " Auntie " 
 for Ben, the young student at Yale, and his sis- 
 ter, bonny Mary McKee. 
 
 275 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 THE CLEVELAND BABIES AND A CHILDLESS 
 COUPLE 
 
 WHILE President Harrison's grand- 
 children were kicking up their merry 
 little heels in the White House nur- 
 sery, a wee, winsome infant had opened her 
 bonny bright eyes in the good city of New 
 York. 
 
 " We will call her Ruth," said her young 
 mother, as she kissed the rosebud cheek, and 
 when the People sent Grover Cleveland to 
 Washington for the second time, this small girl 
 went, also, to fill the place left vacant by Mary 
 Lodge and " Baby McKee." 
 
 In the chamber known as the " Prince of 
 Wales' room," she and her nurse were cozily 
 established and close to the apartment occu- 
 pied by her parents, on the wall of which shone 
 forth the quaint sign or crest selected by her 
 father, the words " Life, Duty and Death," 
 276 
 
The Cleveland Babies 
 
 and on a shield, " As thy days are so shall thy 
 strength be." 
 
 For Mr. Cleveland used to say: " If I have 
 a coat of arms it is that. I chose it years ago 
 and keep it by me." 
 
 In floods of sunshine and with loud acclaim 
 this favorite of the Democracy was inaugurated 
 to a second term, but the very night after an 
 alarm arose in the Executive Mansion. Baby 
 Ruth had been taken suddenly ill, doctors were 
 summoned and there was much running to and 
 fro. Fortunately, the cause for the anxiety 
 soon passed and she was the sole darling of the 
 Presidential household until September, 1893, 
 when a small sister came to keep her company 
 and to be the ninth child born within the his- 
 toric residence, even as her mother was the ninth 
 bride to be wedded there. 
 
 To this tiny stranger was given the name of 
 the Biblical queen of old, and rarely has a prin- 
 cess of the blood royal been more lavishly pre- 
 pared for and welcomed than was little Esther 
 Cleveland. 
 
 Her mamma took pleasure in fashioning 
 many of the fairy-like garments herself, but 
 the whole world, as it were, contributed to the 
 dainty layette. 
 
 277 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 From England and Germany, from France 
 and Spain, came gift upon gift of rich woolen 
 and silken fabrics, sheer lawns and softest flan- 
 nels, socks knitted of the finest Berlin and 
 Saxony yarn, six exquisite little cloaks, twenty 
 pairs of chamois-skin shoes, a score of white 
 silk frocks and the beautiful christening robe, 
 also of silk but veiled with airy, embroidered 
 chiffon. The most valuable of furs, too, were 
 sent from the lands of the North and enough 
 caps to cover a dozen curly pates. 
 
 Nor were the presents confined to clothing, 
 for cradles, cribs and carriages all found their 
 way to the White House, to say naught of the . 
 wonderful and costly dolls and tea sets and 
 other toys, filling the playroom to overflowing, 
 and for which, you may be certain, Ruth came 
 in for her share. 
 
 So the tiny Cleveland girls had plenty to 
 amuse them within doors and they were very 
 rarely seen walking or driving in the streets of 
 Washington, for their mother greatly dreaded 
 the sometimes unpardonable curiosity of stran- 
 gers regarding her babies, especially after one 
 daring souvenir-hunter attempted to cut a lock 
 of hair from little Ruth's fair head as her nurse 
 was carrying her across the hall. 
 
 During the winter, then, they were kept 
 278 
 
 
The Cleveland Babies 
 
 pretty close in the home-nest, but, v/ith the first 
 warm weather, away they all flitted to their 
 lovely, cool summer house, " Gray Gables," on 
 Buzzard's Bay. 
 
 Meanwhile, out in the West, a shining White 
 City had sprung into being and the nation was 
 gaily celebrating the four hundredth anniver- 
 sary of the discovery of America. To the 
 capital, too, at this time came many foreigners 
 of high degree. 
 
 The very day that Esther was born, the 
 President received at an informal reception, the 
 young Japanese Prince, Yorihato Komatsu, a 
 grandnephew of the Mikado, who was travel- 
 ing incognito; while Mrs. Cleveland, with girl- 
 ish enthusiasm, warmly espoused the cause of 
 Princess Kaiulani, niece and heiress-apparent 
 to the deposed Hawaiian queen, Liliuokalani. 
 
 This dark-skinned, graceful maiden of eight- 
 een, fresh from the English school where she 
 was educated, attracted much attention at the 
 Inauguration ball and the first Lady of the Land 
 often had her at the White House and gave her 
 most womanly sympathy; for this island Prin- 
 cess came hither with her guardian, to ask aid 
 of the American people to establish her rights 
 to the throne of Hawaii, which she did in a 
 sweetly pathetic but very schoolgirlish appeal. 
 279 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 By her charm of manner, though, she certainly 
 made a conquest of the Presidential family. 
 
 All over the country, mothers were always 
 interested in news of the little Cleveland chil- 
 dren, and one July day, toward the close of the 
 administration, the stork came again to the 
 President's household. This time, it visited 
 Gray Gables and brought a third daughter to 
 complete the trio of sisters. 
 
 Little Maid Marian was a " well-spring of 
 joy " to the other two, and, for a brief season, 
 she, too, was a girl of the White House. 
 
 The year 1895 found the people of the South 
 making elaborate preparations for a big Cotton 
 States and International Exposition, to be held 
 at the city of Atlanta, Ga., and, by September, 
 all was in readiness and a throng of visitors 
 journeyed thither for the grand opening. 
 
 Distinguished visitors were there in abun- 
 dance; Mr. Booker Washington — the colored 
 orator — was ready with his address; while 
 Victor Herbert's band convulsed the crowd with 
 a lively medley of The Red, White and Blue, t 
 Dixie and Yankee Doodle. 
 
 Still the portals remained closed and the vast 
 concourse waited, — for what, think you ? 
 Why, just for the touch of a baby hand. 
 
 At the same hour, miles and miles to the 
 280 
 
The Cleveland Babies 
 
 northward, at a gray house on a beautiful 
 Massachusetts bay, the President sat in his gun- 
 room, with his secretary and all his family be- 
 side him. 
 
 On a small shelf by the window rested a 
 black rubber button set in a band of solid gold, 
 around the edge of which ran this inscription, 
 "Marian Cleveland, September 18, 1895." 
 
 A most simple little object it looked, but it 
 was connected by electric wires with Atlanta, 
 and, at a certain time, the tiny finger of the two- 
 months-old baby pressed the button. 
 
 Instantly, then, in far-away Georgia, the gates 
 of the Exposition swung open; the buzzing of 
 machinery started up; cannon boomed, whistles 
 shrieked, and, amid the cheering of the multi- 
 tude, its busy life began. 
 
 To-day, these stories of their infant days 
 must seem like fairy tales to the Cleveland girls, 
 for they were still very wee folk when they bade 
 " good-bye " to the White House and their 
 papa's place was taken by the man of whom we 
 have heard before as a brave, young soldier- 
 boy, serving on the staff of Rutherford B. 
 Hayes — namely, William McKinley, another 
 youth from that hotbed of Presidents, the West- 
 ern Reserve. 
 
 The nursery was now left empty, for there 
 281 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 were no small people in the family of our twen- 
 ty-fifth ruler, and Mrs. McKinley, like Mrs. 
 Pierce, had only memories of the children she 
 had loved and lost. 
 
 Once, a blithe little Katie had prattled at 
 her knee and a Christmas baby, who was given 
 her own name of Ida, nestled for six months 
 in her gentle arms, but both had been taken from 
 her long, long before, and it was broken in 
 health and spirits that she came as mistress to 
 the Executive Mansion; there to meet the last 
 and severest blow of her sad life, the striking 
 down of her beloved and most devoted hus- 
 band, by another of those miscreants who seem 
 ever to haunt the footsteps of those who walk 
 in high places. 
 
 This, however, as we all know, came in the 
 second term, so for four or five years they were 
 comparatively happy, with Mrs. McKinley's 
 aunt, Mrs. Saxton, there to keep her company 
 and the President's nieces often with them. 
 One, especially, Mabel McKinley, a young girl 
 with the voice of a lark, was a great favor- 
 ite with her uncle and he took pleasure in giv- 
 ing her a fine musical education. This, too, 
 proved of rare benefit to her in later years, for, 
 although a -cripple and obliged to go on 
 282 
 
The Cleveland Babies 
 
 crutches, she now supports herself by singing in 
 concert. 
 
 Mrs. McKinley's love for little children was 
 a marked characteristic. She could not pass 
 a baby without stopping to pet it, and, when 
 driving, would kiss her hand to all the young- 
 sters along the way. Her time, also, was 
 largely employed in devising and fashioning ar- 
 ticles for the comfort or amusement of boys and 
 girls, and thousands of slippers, crocheted by 
 her nimble fingers, are said to have found their 
 way to hospitals for children throughout the 
 land. 
 
 Quiet, too, as was the life she was forced to 
 lead, one biographer has declared: " She was 
 a wife who was the soul of her husband." 
 
 It was to President McKinley, too, that the 
 letter penned years before by General Grant, 
 in his last moments, was presented; and it is 
 needless to say that the grandson of the ex- 
 President had no difficulty in gaining the right 
 to wear the uniform of a West Point cadet. 
 
 Meanwhile, sweet Frances Folsom Cleve- 
 land — the ward-wife — had carried her three 
 babies off to " Westlands," a big, double 
 mansion, surrounded by spacious grounds, in 
 the pretty collegiate town of Princeton, where 
 283 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 they still make their home when not at " Gray- 
 Gables." 
 
 Esther and Marian are bright, well-grown 
 lassies now, in their early teens, and very fond 
 of the small brothers who have been added to 
 the family circle since the old White House 
 days. It is in low, sorrowful tones, though, 
 that they speak of " sister Ruth " — the first- 
 born of the Cleveland children — for she, as 
 well as their illustrious father, has passed into 
 the " dim far-away." 
 
 284 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 A BUNCH OF KNICKERBOCKERS 
 
 w 
 
 it~% T THO is now the head of the United 
 States?" asked a teacher of her 
 class, a twelvemonth or so ago. 
 
 " Roosevelt," came in quick chorus. 
 
 " And what is his title? " 
 
 " Teddy," burst forth with delighted enthu- 
 siasm. 
 
 It was thus that old and young affectionately 
 termed the President who has just gone out of 
 office; while " Teddy bears "bore his name far 
 abroad, and Teddy bairns for seven years held 
 " merry war " within the old walls of the his- 
 toric White House. 
 
 Not long ago, in the royal nursery at Rome, 
 Italy, a conversation was overheard, in which 
 its small occupants were discussing a coming 
 international marriage, then exciting interest m 
 all circles. 
 
 " No," said little Princess Yoland, the seven- 
 year-old daughter of King Victor Emmanuel, 
 285 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 to her younger brother. " You must not call 
 our American cousin ' Caterina.' Mamma will 
 do that. To you she will be ' Signora Cngina ' 
 (Mrs. Cousin). You must not be too famil- 
 iar." 
 
 " Will she bring me a Teddy bear? " asked 
 tiny Umberto. 
 
 " No, you greedy boy ! She will be the one 
 to have presents. Anyway, Teddy is coming 
 to Europe and there will be no more bears." 
 
 By which we may judge that young foreign- 
 ers consider Mr. Roosevelt the originator and 
 producer of the popular furry toy; as well as 
 that little pitchers are possessed of as long ears 
 in palaces as elsewhere. 
 
 " Teedy," they called the wee lad in stiff 
 white petticoats, with a curl on top of his head, 
 in the old home in East Twentieth Street, New 
 York, some forty odd years back, and a good 
 friend of his has recalled a picture of the tod- 
 dler, trotting about with " David Livingstone's 
 Travels and Researches in South Africa," un- 
 der his arm, pestering every member of the 
 family to tell him what " foraging ants " were 
 and what they did. All were busy and paid no 
 heed to the baby student, until an older sister, 
 to be rid of his teasing, sat down to investigate 
 286 
 
A Bunch of Knickerbockers 
 
 and found the destructive sounding insects were 
 nothing worse than " the foregoing ants," at 
 which her exasperation quickly expended itself 
 in peals of laughter. 
 
 A very delicate, asthmatic boy, though, was 
 Theodore Roosevelt, and time would often have 
 hung heavy on his hands, but for his love of 
 books of adventure. Cooper's " Leatherstock- 
 ing Tales were read and re-read, until Deer- 
 slayer, Natty Bumpo, Hurry Harry and Ishmael 
 Bush became as "dear, familiar friends"; 
 while Mayne Reid's stories went with him on 
 all his travels, even to far-away Egypt, where 
 he was sent in hopes of improving his health. 
 
 It was not change of climate, however, but 
 a strong will, combined with outdoor, athletic 
 exercise that transformed him into the sturdy, 
 strenuous man he is to-day. 
 
 As he said himself, " I determined to be 
 strong and well and did everything to make my- 
 self so." 
 
 With this end in view, then, he ran, he rode, 
 he swam, he boxed, he wrestled and hewed 
 down trees; leading a healthy, romping life, es- 
 pecially when at " Tranquillity," the country 
 home of the Roosevelts, near Oyster Bay, on 
 Long Island, until he could hold his own with 
 287 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 his more robust brother Elliott, or any other 
 fellow who played in Union Square or went to 
 the public school he attended. 
 
 One of his classmates at this period was a 
 shy, retiring, rather bookish lassie, who dwelt 
 in a brown-stone house in Fourteenth Street, 
 facing the park. They became the best of 
 chums, and there was no girl he liked so well 
 to dance with, as Edith Carow, when both were 
 pupils at the fashionable Dancing Academy of 
 that day. He sent her valentines and was al- 
 ways glad when she came to visit his sisters, 
 Anna and Corinne. 
 
 It was a happy time, but the passing years 
 found them drifting apart, when all three 
 maidens were transferred to Miss Comstock's 
 celebrated French school and Theodore entered 
 Harvard. 
 
 There he made his strong personality dis- 
 tinctly felt, for he soon set the whole college to 
 skipping rope; quoted Elizabethan poetry until 
 they thought him " more or less crazy " ; 
 flaunted a pair of gaudy red and white striped 
 stockings in the gymnasium ; studied as well as 
 he boxed; played baseball, football and polo; 
 taught in a Mission Sunday School; ran races; 
 fell in love, and was graduated with the high- 
 288 
 
A Bunch of Knickerbockers 
 
 est of honors, coming out a Phi Beta Kappa 
 man. 
 
 It was in Boston that he lost his heart to a 
 beautiful girl, belonging to one of the most aris- 
 tocratic families of the " Hub," and, three 
 months after his graduation, he married Alice 
 Lee and went to Europe for his honeymoon. 
 
 There, too, he distinguished himself by 
 climbing the highest and most dangerous moun- 
 tains of the Alps — the snow-crowned Matter- 
 horn and Jungfrau; for which daring deed, he 
 was made a member of the Alpine Club of Lon- 
 don. Surely, never since Claes Martenszen 
 Van Rosenvelt — the founder of the family in 
 this country — crossed the seas from Holland 
 to New Amsterdam, in 1649, nas ne na d so 
 versatile and energetic a descendant as this 
 young Knickerbocker of the Knickerbockers. 
 
 There was rare rejoicing, too, in the Dutch 
 household when his first child was born, but 
 alas ! the joy was quickly changed to woe, for 
 
 11 The Mother's Being Ceased on Earth, 
 When Baby Came from Paradise," 
 
 a grief which was closely followed by the death 
 of Mr. Roosevelt's mother. 
 
 So the little Alice Lee had to be consigned to 
 289 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 the care of her grandparents in Boston, while 
 the young widower plunged into both politics 
 and literature for distraction, varied by hunting 
 trips to the wilds of the West. 
 
 The first time I ever saw Theodore Roose- 
 velt was at an Author's Reading, when he en- 
 tertained a large concourse of people in the 
 Academy of Music, in Brooklyn, by a vivid ac- 
 count of a hunt for grizzlies, and, certainly, his 
 intense personality carried his audience with him 
 and inspired it with all a hunter's enthusiasm. 
 Since then, bears have always been connected 
 with his name and should be upon his crest. 
 
 One of young Mrs. Roosevelt's most inti- 
 mate acquaintances, when she came as a bride 
 to New York, was her husband's early friend, 
 Edith Kermit Carow, who, however, was now 
 living in England, and it was her most kindly 
 letter of sympathy that the bereaved husband 
 carried with him to North Dakota. Small 
 wonder, then, that after two years, the man's 
 lonely heart should have turned toward this 
 dear companion of his youth! 
 
 Crossing the sea, he sought and found her. 
 They were married in St. George's Chapel, 
 Hanover Square, London, and joyfully he 
 brought her home to be a most loving step- 
 mother to the little Alice. 
 290 
 
A Bunch of Knickerbockers 
 
 A veritable " chip of the old block " is this 
 first-born daughter, and when a child was con- 
 siderable of a tom-boy, which rather pleased 
 her father, who once remarked: 
 
 " Alice is a girl who does not stay in the 
 house and sit in a rocking-chair. She can walk 
 as far as I can. She can ride, drive and shoot, 
 although she does not care much for the shoot- 
 ing. I don't mind that; it is not necessary for 
 health, but outdoor exercise is, and she has 
 plenty of that." 
 
 It was not long, however, before Miss Alice 
 had to share the parental affection with a bevy of 
 others. Five of them — Theodore the Second, 
 Kermit, Ethel Carow, Archibald, and last, 
 though not least, lively little Quentin; while, 
 when they were infants, the nursery was always 
 the first place Mr. Roosevelt sought, on coming 
 home, as eager as the wee folk for a romp. 
 
 In vain, his wife would plead, " Now, don't 
 play bear! The baby is just being put to 
 sleep." 
 
 In five minutes, he would be tearing over the 
 floor on all fours, as a veritable Teddy-bear; 
 the youngest hopeful squirming out of Nurse 
 Nance's arms and growling and clawing like a 
 little cub; while the rest pranced about like a 
 menagerie let loose. 
 
 291 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 It was the merriest, noisiest sort of a house- 
 hold, for even as Governor and President, 
 Theodore Roosevelt has always been a boy with 
 his boys, and they consider him the finest play- 
 fellow in all the world. 
 
 " Sagamore Hill," as the country seat near 
 Oyster Bay is now called, is their favorite abid- 
 ing place, and thither all turn their faces with 
 delight, every June. The homestead is a pleas- 
 ant house of many gables, hidden in trees, and, 
 nigh by is a sandy declivity which the young- 
 sters use as a sliding place. 
 
 " See," said the President, one day, as he 
 sailed by in his yacht, the Sylph, " that is Coop- 
 er's Bluff. Three generations of Roosevelts 
 have raced down its slope. We did, only yes- 
 terday. Good run, that! " 
 
 Outdoor sports are here, of course, the ones 
 most indulged in, and as all love animals, there 
 are pets galore. Very queer specimens, too, 
 some of them have been. 
 
 A black bear might be expected and the 
 shaggy fellow chained in the Sagamore Hill 
 garden was called " Jonathan Edwards," after 
 the famous divine, who was their ancestor, on 
 the distaff side. 
 
 During one of the father's political tours 
 292 
 
A Bunch of Knickerbockers 
 
 through Kansas, a small girlish admirer flung 
 on board of the Presidential train, a tiny baby 
 badger, at the same time shouting out, " His 
 name is Josiah." 
 
 " He looked," said Mr. Roosevelt, " for all 
 the world, like a small flat mattress, with a leg 
 under each corner." But he took Josiah home, 
 where he was brought up on a nursing-bottle, 
 until he had cut his teeth — from which time 
 on he showed his gratitude by chasing the boys 
 and nipping their calves and ankles, whenever 
 let out of his cage. 
 
 " Skip," a bright little black puppy, was 
 also one of the President's western souvenirs, 
 and he was never so happy as when permitted 
 to ride on a horse, with his master, where he sat 
 up in the saddle as straight as a hussar. 
 
 A prime favorite is Algonquin, the calico 
 pony from Iceland, which was presented to 
 Archie and on which he loves to scamper over 
 the country, with sometimes Skip perched up 
 before him. 
 
 Long, too, has been the line of dogs and 
 guinea pigs which has come and gone. " Sail- 
 or-boy," described as " a big, clumsy, loyal fel- 
 low, of several good breeds," was the darling 
 of all, while the spotted guineas generally 
 293 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 boasted such distinguished names as Bishop 
 Doane, Father O'Grady, Dr. Johnson, Fight- 
 ing Bob Evans and Admiral Dewey. 
 
 On a certain occasion, too, a guest at the 
 house was both astonished and amused, to have 
 one of the urchins rush in with the startling an- 
 nouncement — "Oh, oh, Father O'Grady has 
 had some children." 
 
 When these four-footed companions pass to 
 the " Happy Hunting Grounds " of dumb 
 beasts they are decently interred at the end of 
 the lawn, in a plot marked by a rough stone on 
 which is hewn the words " Faithful Friends," 
 and below, " Jessie," " Susie," " Boz," and 
 other names of lost pets. Kermit generally 
 conducts the obsequies and he was much scan- 
 dalized, one day at the White House, upon 
 discovering a rabbit belonging to Archie which 
 had lain a whole day unburied. A court-mar- 
 tial was summoned and Ted made Judge-Ad- 
 vocate-General. 
 
 Evidence was taken, after which the Judge's 
 verdict, solemnly rendered, was: "It was 
 Archie's rabbit and it is Archie's funeral. Let 
 him have it in peace." 
 
 Mr. Roosevelt, himself, teaches his sons to 
 shoot, swims with them in the Cove, and ac- 
 companies them on long horseback rides. Pic- 
 294 
 
A Bunch of Knickerbockers 
 
 nics, too, are very popular at Sagamore Hill, 
 but the gala day of all the summer is when 
 he, his boys and their cousins go camping. 
 
 The spot selected is a secluded one on the 
 shore, to which they can sail with all their out- 
 fit and where they can catch fish for the dinner 
 which they prepare themselves. 
 
 The lads peel the vegetables, gather the 
 wood and build the fire and the President, roll- 
 ing up his sleeves, turns cook. 
 
 " Um — m! " chuckles Archie; " you oughter 
 just taste my father's beefsteak! He tumbles 
 them all in together — meat, onions and pota- 
 toes, but um — m ! it is good." 
 
 With sharp-set appetites, all eat their fill and 
 then, gathering round the camp-fire tell ghost 
 stories until the shadows deepen, the stars come 
 out overhead and the owls hoot weirdly in the 
 dark woods, when they are glad to roll them- 
 selves in their blankets, and, stretching out their 
 feet to the glowing embers, sleep until sunrise 
 summons them to a refreshing salt-water bath 
 in the sparkling bay. 
 
 At the country house Mrs. Roosevelt, too, 
 has her hands full with her large family and 
 the constant demands upon her time, but she 
 finds leisure to sew with the St. Hilda Chapter 
 — the sewing circle of Christ Church — and 
 295 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 fashions many a garment for the child cripples 
 in the House of St. Giles. 
 
 Even when in Washington, she never forgot 
 the poor folks at home, as was shown by the 
 trinkets collected together and her bouquet and 
 dance-card from an inauguration ball, brought 
 to a consumptive girl, a " shut in," with little to 
 brighten her weary existence. 
 
 It was in these works of charity, too, that 
 she found her chief consolation and distraction, 
 during our short, spectacular, little war with 
 Spain, when her husband was away winning his 
 bravest laurels. 
 
 No page in the history of that Cuban fray 
 is of such intense interest as the dramatic storm- 
 ing of San Juan hill, and the central figure is 
 Theodore Roosevelt making his wild dash, 
 amid shot and shell, up toward the Spanish 
 batteries, closely followed by his troop of gal- 
 lant Rough Riders, shouting: "Hurrah, now 
 we'll show 'em what the Yankees can do! 
 Down with the Dons ! Three cheers for Uncle 
 Sam ! " 
 
 They fought as well as they boasted and, ere 
 long, Old Glory floated from the heights above 
 Santiago, while, two days later, came that won- 
 derful coup d'etat, the sinking of Admiral Cer- 
 296 
 
A Bunch of Knickerbockers 
 
 vera's fleet, on Sunday morning, in the beautiful 
 Southern bay. 
 
 Never was such a Fourth of July known as 
 that on which the marvelous news came flash- 
 ing across the electric wires to an astonished 
 nation! We can imagine a quartette of boys, 
 at Sagamore Hill, nearly turning themselves in- 
 side out with excited joy; but the wife of the 
 rector at Oyster Bay clasped a white-faced, but 
 composed little woman in her arms, crying im- 
 pulsively: "Colonel Roosevelt is a hero, be- 
 yond a doubt, but you are three! " 
 
 It was his gallantry at San Juan, even more 
 than his efficiency as Police and Civil Service 
 Commissioner, that made Theodore Roosevelt 
 Governor of New York. He probably then 
 thought he had attained the pinnacle of his 
 ambition, and it was with regret that he con- 
 sented to run for Vice-President, on the ticket 
 with William McKinley. 
 
 He felt that he was being " shelved." Still, 
 his objections were overruled and he was swept 
 into the " harmless office," as he considered it, 
 just at the opening of the Twentieth Century. 
 
 A trifle more than half a year rolled by 
 and then, for the third time, a President 
 of the United States was stricken down by an 
 297 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 assassin's blow and America wept at his bier. 
 
 For a few days there were favorable signs 
 and hope soared so high that Mr. Roosevelt 
 left his chief and joined his family at the Upper 
 Tahawus Club in the Adirondacks, where two 
 of its members were recuperating from illness. 
 
 Friday, September thirteenth, 1901, was dark 
 and lowering, with dashes of rain. Ted, Jr., 
 elected to go fishing, but the other children 
 joined their father and mother and a small 
 party of friends, in a climb up Mount Marcy. 
 The trail was a rough one and Mrs. Roosevelt, 
 with the younger ones, soon gave it up as too 
 arduous. The Vice-President and a few others, 
 however, gained the top and, after surveying 
 as much view as could be seen through the mist, 
 spread their lunch on the edge of a pretty moun- 
 tain lake known as " Tear in the Clouds." 
 But, before they had commenced their repast, a 
 snapping of twigs and quick footsteps made all 
 start and a guide pushed his way through the 
 underbrush, waving a yellow telegram. It 
 read: 
 
 " The President's condition has changed for 
 the worse. 
 
 " CORTELYOU." 
 
 " I must go back immediately," cried Mr. 
 298 
 
A Bunch of Knickerbockers 
 
 Roosevelt, springing up, and leaving the col- 
 lation untasted, hurried down the mountain, 
 while at midnight, he received a second mes- 
 sage : 
 
 " Come at once." 
 
 In a mad race with Death, then, the Vice- 
 President, by horse and buckboard and special 
 train, sped toward Buffalo, where the Pan-Amer- 
 ican Exposition — the scene of the tragedy — 
 was now closed, dark and silent. Ere half the 
 distance was covered, however, William Mc- 
 Kinley had breathed his last. 
 
 It was at the fine substantial residence of Mr. 
 Ansley Wilcox, in the little city by the lake, that 
 our twenty-sixth President, with pale lips and 
 tear-dimmed eyes, took the oath of office and, 
 then turning to the witnesses, said with emotion : 
 " In this hour of deep and terrible bereavement, 
 I wish to state that it shall be my aim to con- 
 tinue absolutely unbroken the policy of Presi- 
 dent McKinley for the peace and prosperity 
 and honor of our country." 
 
 The days that followed were tumultuous ones 
 and October's leaves were fluttering down ere 
 the Roosevelts were completely established in 
 the White House and the administration of our 
 youngest ruler had fairly begun. 
 299 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 Budding into womanhood, just as her father 
 was so suddenly made President, Miss Alice 
 now found herself the cynosure for all the mil- 
 lions of eyes of the nation. Her every step was 
 published and five days after the New Year of 
 1902, when the Chief Magistrate was said to 
 have shaken hands with 8,100 callers, another 
 reception was given, at which she was intro- 
 duced into society. A buffet supper was served 
 and, peeping forth from wreaths of smilax and 
 carnations, the old-time features of George and 
 Martha Washington, Jefferson and Lincoln 
 beamed down from the walls upon this White 
 House girl of a later generation, and her bevy 
 of friends, dancing on the waxed floor of the big 
 East Room. 
 
 It was very shortly after this, too, that Prince 
 Henry of Prussia arrived in this country bear- 
 ing a request from the German Emperor that 
 the fair debutante would graciously christen his 
 yacht, then being built in an American shipyard. 
 
 To this she gladly consented, and February 
 twenty-fifth was a gala day at Shooter's Island, 
 where the royal bark was launched to the music 
 of a brass band and the blowing of hundreds of 
 steam whistles. When all was over this cable- 
 gram was sent flashing under the Atlantic: 
 300 
 
 
A Bunch of Knickerbockers 
 
 " His Majesty, the Emperor, 
 
 Berlin, Germany. 
 
 " The Meteor has been successfully launched. 
 I congratulate you and I thank you for your 
 courtesy to me and I send my best wishes. 
 
 " Alice Lee Roosevelt." 
 
 Later, an invitation to attend the Coronation 
 of King Edward of England, likewise, filled the 
 maiden with delight; but when a question arose 
 as to whether the daughter of a President should 
 be received as a princess or not, Mr. Roosevelt, 
 with true republican disgust, declared she should 
 not accept, so, much to her chagrin, Miss Alice 
 had to remain at home. 
 
 It was made up to her, however, by a de- 
 lightful trip with congenial friends to China, 
 Japan and the Philippines, where she was much 
 associated with Governor Taft and his family. 
 This Eastern tour resulted, too, in many mat- 
 rimonial engagements, chief among which was 
 that of Miss Roosevelt to Mr. Nicholas Long- 
 worth, a young lawyer and Congressman, of 
 Cincinnati. 
 
 Many, as they watched the gay girl spin- 
 ning through the streets of Washington, in her 
 little motor car, wondered that she cared to give 
 301 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 up her exalted position; but, as in the case of 
 Elizabeth Tyler, " Love ruled the Court," and 
 on February seventeenth, 1906, the old East 
 Room was again a bower of flowers and green- 
 ery with an improvised altar at one end. 
 
 No one to have seen Alice Roosevelt that 
 morning, sitting, fancy work in hand, would 
 have dreamed it was her wedding day. In- 
 deed, some members of the family were quite 
 distracted by her nonchalance. But when she 
 entered on her father's arm she was a most re- 
 splendent bride in white satin and point lace, 
 with a train of silver brocade six yards long. 
 Superb jewels held the veil and sparkled on her 
 corsage and she carried a shower bouquet of 
 rare orchids. 
 
 Nicholas Longworth met her at the little altar 
 and Bishop Satterlee quickly made them one. 
 
 Since then the young couple have made sev- 
 eral exciting trips through the wildest parts of 
 our western country, meeting sundry adven- 
 tures in Yellowstone Park and elsewhere, but 
 they were always glad to return to the Capital 
 and the good people in the Homestead of the 
 Nation. 
 
 It may be that Miss Alice enjoyed publicity, 
 but it is very certain her brother Theodore never 
 has. He was a lad of eleven when his father 
 302 
 
A Bunch of Knickerbockers 
 
 was nominated for the Vice-Presidency and a 
 reporter, after a visit at the Roosevelt residence, 
 ventured to write a complimentary notice of 
 " Teddy," Jr. 
 
 Some days later, the boy met the newspaper 
 man, when, marching up and gazing at him 
 severely through his iron-rimmed spectacles, he 
 said: " My friend, I had my attention called 
 to your article referring to me. I must ask 
 you not to do this again. Please remember that 
 I am not a candidate for public office. I do not 
 seek notoriety." 
 
 When, too, he was sent away to school at 
 Groton, he had a scrap with a fellow pupil and 
 gave him a sound pummeling for calling him 
 " the first boy in the land." 
 
 " I wish," he growled, " that my father 
 would soon be done holding office. I am sick 
 and tired of it." 
 
 The papers, though, were filled with reports 
 of Master Ted, when he lay seriously ill with 
 pneumonia at this same Groton school, and it 
 was then, too, that Archie, with much difficulty, 
 scrawled him this note of sympathy: 
 
 " I hop you are beter." 
 
 He is the philosopher of the family and has 
 the same expansive smile as his distinguished 
 303 
 
-Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 parent. Interested in natural history he has 
 made quite a creditable collection of insects, 
 lizards, birds and such things, and is a great 
 reader. Still, he is also devoted to outdoor 
 sports, entering heartily into a rough and tumble 
 game of football, while he is never happier than 
 when on horseback. 
 
 A member of an English Educational Com- 
 mission, who had visited this country on a tour 
 of inspection, was asked what impressed him 
 most deeply on this side of the water. His 
 answer was: 
 
 " The children of the President of the United 
 States sitting, side by side, with the children of 
 your workingmen in the public schools." 
 
 This is true, for it was at the Cove District 
 school in Oyster Bay and the Grammar school 
 in Washington that the younger Roosevelts laid 
 the foundation of their education. They were 
 taught to " give and take," like all the rest and 
 when one of them was asked how he got along 
 with the "common boys," replied: 
 
 " My father says there are tall boys and 
 short boys and bad boys and good boys, and 
 that's all the kind of boys .there are." 
 
 Of all the quartette of lads, Kermit is, per- 
 haps, the fondest of pets and the one who most 
 thoroughly sympathizes with Mr. Roosevelt 
 304 
 
A Bunch of Knickerbockers 
 
 when he tells them : " Be brave, but be gentle 
 to little girls and to all dumb animals. A boy 
 who maltreats animals is not worth having his 
 neck wrung." 
 
 It is the second son who always had a colony 
 of white mice in the basement and used to carry 
 round in his pocket a kangaroo rat, which he 
 would sometimes produce at mealtime and al- 
 low to hop across the table. For this particu- 
 lar rodent was a very tame little fellow and 
 would nibble most daintily at the lump of sugar 
 to which the President liked to treat him. 
 
 When the small tow-head Archie first came 
 to the White House he quickly won the hearts 
 of all the employes, by his cherubic smile and 
 bewitching lisp and all were amused by the way 
 the six-year-old shaver attached himself to the 
 police squad detailed for duty at the Executive 
 Mansion on holidays, always answering roll- 
 call with them and saluting the sergeant as so- 
 berly as the men in blue and brass. He was a 
 picture when riding abroad on Algonquin and 
 when he was ill with the measles the servants 
 surprised him by a visit from his dear pony. 
 The wee horse, no bigger than a Newfoundland 
 dog, was smuggled into the elevator and carried 
 upstairs, while the first thing the small convales- 
 cent knew, there was " a pawing and prancing 
 305 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 of each tiny hoof " across his bedroom floor. 
 Well may you believe the diminutive calico Ice- 
 lander was received with a whoop of astonished 
 delight. He and Quentin kept the house lively, 
 and rumors went forth of furious pillow fights 
 which raged fiercely at early dawn and in which 
 it was whispered, even the Head of the Nation, 
 occasionally, condescended to take a hand. 
 
 Quentin bears the quaint old name of a Hu- 
 guenot ancestor, but this baby of the family has 
 now passed his first decade and, for some time 
 before leaving Washington was head of a base- 
 ball nine at the Force School, which he ruled 
 as rigidly as the President did his Cabinet. 
 
 Ethel, the present Mrs. Roosevelt's only 
 daughter, has been brought up in the same 
 hearty, wholesome way as her brothers and was 
 a general favorite at the Cathedral School where 
 her education was completed. She somewhat 
 resembles her father in features and is a striking 
 contrast to some of the " prune and prism " 
 young ladies who have dwelt in the White 
 House since 1802. 
 
 In the latter part of the summer of 1908, she 
 celebrated her seventeenth birthday at Sagamore 
 Hill, and how the little Puritan, Abigail Adams, 
 would have opened her eyes could she have 
 looked into the future and seen this Twentieth 
 306 
 
A Bunch of Knickerbockers 
 
 Century girl running a steam engine at the rate 
 of sixty or seventy miles an hour. 
 
 It was last year, while traveling through 
 Georgia with her mother, Kermit, Archie and 
 Quentin, that she performed this feat. Joining 
 the engineer in his cab, she learned from him the 
 uses of the throttle, air brake, reverse .lever, 
 steam gauge and whistle, and then, taking his 
 place, carried the train from Newman to At- 
 lanta, and brought it in on time, too. 
 
 " That is the jolliest frolic I have ever had," 
 declared the merry maiden as she jumped to the 
 platform, while the dictum of the regular pilot 
 of the road was: " She did it all and she is a 
 wonder. With a little experience, Miss Ethel 
 would make a good engineer. She has nerve." 
 
 In 1902 Congress again made an appropria- 
 tion for repairing the White House. This time 
 the amount was more liberal than formerly, be- 
 ing $65,196, which was to be expended at the 
 discretion of the President. So, then, the fond 
 dreams of so many of its occupants — and es- 
 pecially Mrs. Benjamin Harrison — were put 
 into tangible shape. The Mansion was en- 
 larged, renovated and beautified, being to-day 
 far more worthy the ruler of a great nation 
 than it ever has been before. The vast entrance 
 hall is as imposing again, in its elegant sim- 
 307 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 plicity, since the white pillars were set free 
 from their former environment of partition and 
 stained glass; and nothing could be more in- 
 viting than the long corridor on the upper floor, 
 fitted up as a living-room in quiet green and 
 gray. 
 
 Hither, Ethel and the boys came on stormy 
 days for a game of ball, and from it opened 
 out the bed-chambers, while at the extreme east 
 end Mr. Roosevelt had his den, hung with 
 swords and sticks — the cozy spot where he 
 often burned the " midnight oil," when others 
 slept. 
 
 At the western end, too, new offices have been 
 built for the President and his Cabinet, the old 
 ones being turned into private quarters, thereby 
 giving the resident family much more room and 
 making life there more comfortable. 
 
 Of course, these Knickerbockers, true to their 
 ancient traditions, made a great deal of Christ- 
 mas and the New Year. Holly and mistletoe 
 always decked windows and walls and " the 
 stockings were hung by the chimney with care.'* 
 Some days before the festival, one of the apart- 
 ments was converted into a store-room, of which 
 only the mother and a maid held the key. In 
 this all the presents were concealed as fast as 
 they came in and on December twenty-fifth were 
 308 
 
A Bunch of Knickerbockers 
 
 distributed from a large oval table near one of 
 the broad windows. 
 
 Mr. Roosevelt, noting on his wild-wood 
 tramps the destruction of pines, cedars and hem- 
 locks throughout the forest lands, does not al- 
 together approve of Christmas trees, but one 
 year little Archie made up his mind to have one. 
 
 " I'm going to fix up a tree," he confided to 
 Quentin and, managing to smuggle a small 
 evergreen into the house and hide it away in 
 a large unused closet, the two urchins worked 
 over it, with all the secrecy and enthusiasm of 
 a veritable Santa Claus. 
 
 Then, on Christmas morning, when all the 
 household had received their gifts, they invited 
 their father to accompany them to the closet. 
 
 " What is up now? " he asked 
 
 " Oh, you come and see," they shouted, and 
 away the whole family trooped at the boys' 
 heels. The door was thrown open and there 
 stood the festive bush, blazing with lighted 
 tapers, and gay with glittering balls, cornuco- 
 pias and streamers, and the President enjoyed 
 the surprise as much as anybody. 
 
 Mrs. Roosevelt often gave children's parties,' 
 
 to which the young sons and daughters of those 
 
 high in public affairs looked forward with glad 
 
 anticipation. One holiday gathering was par- 
 
 309 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 ticularly attractive, when each guest received a 
 rosette of ribbon and tinsel, in the centre of 
 which was set a button, inscribed " Merry 
 Christmas and Happy New Year " ; when they 
 danced to the Marine Band, and when, for once, 
 there was a Christmas tree in the spacious main 
 dining-room, as well as a table laden with cake, 
 candy and fruit. The President himself came 
 in to pass the ices; Theodore, Jr., circulated the 
 bonbons and it was just a jolly, informal merry- 
 making generally. 
 
 Hospitality without ostentation seemed to be 
 the motto of the family and Mrs. Roosevelt 
 came to her public home determined to make it 
 as much like a private one as possible. Of 
 course, on formal reception days, ceremony and 
 etiquette held the floor — but at other times it 
 was not unusual to have the Chief Magistrate 
 turn away from an important conference to nod 
 and wave his hand to Ethel, tripping by to the 
 tennis court; to see Archie come dashing down 
 the White House steps munching a piece of 
 ginger-bread, and one tourist, at least, loves to 
 tell how he caught the husband and wife wan- 
 dering in the old Colonial garden, he with his 
 arm about her waist, and, plucking a rose, fas- 
 tened it in true lover fashion in her hair. 
 
 Very rapidly, though, have the children been 
 310 
 
A Bunch of Knickerbockers 
 
 growing up. Master Teddy has left Harvard 
 and, with the modesty and good sense for which 
 he has always been noted, has accepted a rather 
 lowly position in a New England factory, de- 
 ciding to learn the business " from the bottom 
 up." In November last, too, he cast his first 
 vote for Mr. Taft. 
 
 Brown-eyed Kermit took his brother's place 
 for a short time at Cambridge but, being a 
 devotee of the camera, left his studies to accom- 
 pany his father to Africa, as photographer of 
 the expedition, and was given a parting dinner 
 and grand " send-off " by his fellow-students. 
 The ex-President and his second son hope to 
 hunt some big game in Southern jungles, perhaps 
 bringing down a Teddy lion or Teddy tiger. 
 
 Leaving school last spring, Miss Ethel had 
 the honor of entering society from the Executive 
 Mansion and made her debut at a Christmastide 
 ball just as her sister Alice did before her. 
 
 An ideal time for her, then, was the last 
 winter of the Roosevelt administration, although 
 she has done something besides dance and 
 frivol, her mother thinking it time that she was 
 initiated into the mysteries of housekeeping, and 
 she took full charge of the White House linen. 
 Every Sunday, too, found her teaching the Bible 
 to a class of small colored boys at St. Mary's 
 3ii 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 Chapel, while on pleasant Saturdays, during the 
 fall, she took these same pickaninnies out to a 
 vacant lot and taught them football, umpiring 
 the game herself, and afterward treating them 
 to a picnic lunch put up in the President's 
 kitchen. 
 
 One of the marked features of the adminis- 
 tration which has just drawn to a close, was the 
 grand peace tour of our battleships around the 
 world, bearing the olive branch to foreign na- 
 tions, and the crowning event of Mr. Roosevelt's 
 term, his welcome home to the glorious fleet at 
 Hampton Roads, on the one hundred and sev- 
 enty-seventh anniversary of George Washing- 
 ton's natal day. 
 
 The elements were unpropitious, for a de- 
 pressing rain fell and a northeast wind chilled 
 the spectators to the bone. Still, all the naval 
 world and his wife and thousands of others were 
 there to see and, at an early hour the President, 
 on the Mayflower, sailed down from Norfolk 
 harbor. He was in fine feather, clad in the 
 silk hat and frock coat of the Commander-in- 
 chief of the Army and Navy; and with him 
 were Mrs. Roosevelt, his elder daughter and 
 young Kermit. The Harvard youth was en- 
 thusiastic, but his father was more so. The 
 showers could not dampen his ardor and no 
 312 
 
A Bunch of Knickerbockers 
 
 bluejacket on the spotless decks could have 
 shouted "Bully! bully!" more boyishly than 
 the Head of the Nation, when the flagship Con- 
 necticut hove in sight and sailed with stately 
 dignity past the reviewing stand, closely fol- 
 lowed by the other great leviathans of war and 
 water. 
 
 "Welcome, welcome!" fluttered the three 
 flags above the Mayflower, and the wireless car- 
 ried the same message. 
 
 " Thank you," was wigwagged back, while 
 the band played " The Star Spanged Banner." 
 
 To this, in spite of the rain, the President 
 lifted his hat, but it struck him as funny and 
 he fairly laughed aloud when across the waves 
 floated the strains of " Oh, Mamie, Kiss Your 
 Honey Boy," and his favorite fighting tune, 
 " There'll Be a Hot Time in the Old Town To- 
 night." 
 
 Receptions, feasting and festivities followed, 
 and it was truly a great Washington's Birthday 
 in the Old Dominion, when we welcomed our 
 famous Atlantic Fleet home again from a for- 
 eign shore. 
 
 Ten days later, however, the Roosevelt re- 
 gime drew to a close and the joyous echoes at 
 Old Point had scarcely died away ere the scaf- 
 foldings for the inaugural of Mr. Taft were go- 
 313 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 ing up in Washington and eleven-year-old Quen- 
 tin was mischievously singing a naughty little 
 street song — " Hurrah, Hurrah, Father's Go- 
 ing to be Hung! " greatly to the annoyance of 
 his mother, who begged him to desist. 
 
 Not that she regretted leaving the White 
 House. Indeed, we may believe she was glad 
 to do so, since the dread of assassination has 
 hung over her head, like the sword of Damocles, 
 for seven long years. The thought that her 
 husband might meet the same fate as his prede- 
 cessor has ever been in her mind, and she 
 strongly opposed his accepting a third term, 
 pleading — " I cannot endure four more years 
 of this agony of fear." 
 
 Rumors of a matrimonial engagement for 
 Miss Ethel have been whispered about, but she 
 decidedly denies them, and will likely live 
 quietly with her mother and Quentin at Saga- 
 more Hill, while Mr. Roosevelt and Kermit are 
 in Africa, for Archie is now at Groton school 
 and Teddy — as we know — winning his way 
 in an Eastern State. 
 
 All five are promising sprigs of good old 
 Holland stock and if Mynheer Claes Van 
 Rosenvelt can look down from above he must 
 surely be proud of these bright young Knicker- 
 bockers. 
 
 314 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD OF TAFT 
 
 H 
 
 d^ F E is one of the most lovable men 
 I ever knew." 
 
 That is what a former college 
 mate of William Howard Taft said to me, just 
 after his nomination in the summer of 1908 ; and 
 he followed it up by remarking, " He is just 
 like a great, big boy." 
 
 It was exactly this happy, boyish quality, com- 
 bined with the rare gift of being a good and 
 sympathetic listener, which made him so popu- 
 lar at Yale, in the seventies, where, as another 
 friend declared: 
 
 " Taft was, perhaps, the best hail-fellow-well- 
 met man in his class. ... It was impos- 
 sible for him to speak an unkind word or do an 
 unworthy act. The same cordial greeting, the 
 same jolly laugh, the same hearty handshake, 
 have made the boy father to the man. Taft 
 spent much time with the fellows at the fence 
 and elsewhere, and joined them in all sorts of 
 315 
 
Boys and Girls of the White H ouse 
 
 fun and frolic, but he never forgot that to-mor- 
 row's lessons had to be prepared. 
 
 " His room was a popular resort; but the boys 
 generally understood that when the time for 
 serious business arrived, they must subside or re- 
 tire; and more than once Big Bill Taft had to 
 pick up a fellow and cast him out bodily before 
 he could secure peace and quietness." 
 
 He was finally graduated second in a class 
 of one hundred and twenty, being salutatorian 
 and class orator. 
 
 Retiring to his Cincinnati home, he plunged 
 into the law, coming to that naturally, as he had 
 to Yale, by heredity and environment; and, also, 
 becoming intimate in a family of six girls, much 
 given to music and literature, selected one of 
 the sisters to be his wife. 
 
 It was a happy day, in the month of roses, 
 when he wedded tall, slight Helen Herron, who 
 has been his comrade in all his varied career. 
 Very interesting, too, has that been, since Presi- 
 dent McKinley despatched him on diplomatic 
 missions to the other side of the world, and, un- 
 der Mr. Roosevelt, he has served as Civil Gov- 
 ernor in the Philippines and wrestled with our 
 uncertain, suspicious " little- brown brother," 
 teaching him what it means to " keep faith " and 
 316 
 
The Household of Taft 
 
 giving him such peace, justice and prosperity as 
 he never dreamed of before. 
 
 Veritable little globe trotters, too, are their 
 three children, Robert, Helen and Charles, who, 
 like their mother, have become quite familiar 
 with Europe and Asia, and have acquired a 
 smattering of many languages. 
 
 Their more recent home in Washington, 
 when their father was Secretary of War, was 
 like a museum, with its wealth of curiosities and 
 souvenirs from other lands, paintings and speci- 
 mens of wood-carving, for in this last, Mrs. 
 Taft is quite a connoisseur, and knows all the 
 fine points in the work of different schools and 
 masters. 
 
 Her husband's step-brother, Mr. Charles 
 Taft — the noted art collector of Cincinnati — 
 has no more appreciative admirer of his treas- 
 ures than his sister-in-law. 
 
 In her native city, too, she was one of the 
 founders of a famous musical organization, the 
 Symphony Orchestra, and formerly kept up her 
 daily hours of practice religiously. Now, how- 
 ever, she seldom performs in public, reserving 
 her piano-playing for the home circle. 
 
 The eighteen-year-old daughter is even taller 
 than her mother and quite as comely and attrac- 
 317 
 
Soys and Girls of the White House 
 
 tive in manner, but the dimple in her chin she 
 inherits from her father. When a small child, 
 she met with an accident, which resulted in in- 
 jury to her back, so she has been obliged to 
 wear a brace. Consequently outdoor sports do 
 not appeal to her as much as to Ethel Roose- 
 velt, although she enjoys an occasional game of 
 tennis with her brother Robert and is fond of 
 horseback riding, in which she prefers the mas- 
 culine fashion. 
 
 " I suppose it will have to be a side-saddle 
 in Washington," she says, " although I learned 
 to ride with the cross-saddle in the Philippines. 
 The other way is much more sensible." 
 
 Studious and a fine scholar, she has, so far, 
 shown a greater fancy for books than for teas 
 and dances; but when her education was so far 
 advanced that college was the only thing remain- 
 ing and she had won a $300 scholarship in the 
 entrance examinations at Bryn-Mawr, Mrs. 
 Taft said: 
 
 " I don't know whether I want Helen to go to 
 school longer or not. She likes to study, but so 
 many of her girl friends are leaving school and 
 taking their places in society, that when she is 
 free they will most of them be married or grown 
 away from her, and her first social season will 
 have lost some of its charm." 
 3i8 
 
The Household of Taft 
 
 Nevertheless, the maiden of " sweet sixteen " 
 entered Bryn-Mawr and is captivated with 
 college life. Whether the inducement of being 
 a White House belle will tempt her away before 
 the end of her course remains to be seen, as her 
 parents have left it to her to decide. 
 
 At present, the idea of ceremonious receptions 
 at the Mansion seem rather distasteful to her. 
 
 " It's ghastly to think of standing in a row 
 with lots of other prim people and shaking 
 hands with hundreds," she declares. " I like 
 fun and hate formality." 
 
 She and her brother Robert Alphonso are 
 great chums and she is as proud as he of all the 
 prizes he has carried off at Yale. Now in his 
 junior year, Bob Taft bids fair to excel both 
 father and grandfather, and leave the old alma 
 mater as " first man." 
 
 The youngest child, though, is the infant 
 prodigy of the family. Named for his art-lov- 
 ing uncle, twelve-year-old Charley is something 
 of a " holy terror " and, when not absorbed in a 
 book, is never still for an instant. 
 
 During last year's campaign, when Mr. Taft 
 made his first speech at Hot Springs, his irre- 
 pressible hopeful was heard to shout: 
 
 "Come on, boys! pop's going to spout," 
 while, at a dramatic point, a sizzling firecracker 
 319 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 came flying through the air and landed on the 
 speaker's shoulder. But the orator only 
 laughed, for well he knew from whence it came. 
 
 At the Force School Charley used to play on 
 Quentin Roosevelt's baseball team. One day, 
 however, when a game was arranged, he wished 
 to attend a picnic and applied to have his con- 
 tract cancelled, just like a professional. 
 
 Quentin was annoyed. " You can't go," he 
 said. " There is no one to take your place." 
 
 " Well, I have made a date and I have to go 
 and that settles it," declared young Taft. 
 
 " If you desert we'll fill your place," retorted 
 Quentin, asserting his authority as captain. 
 
 Charley went to the picnic but he played no 
 more with the Roosevelt Nine and has since 
 turned his attention to golf. 
 
 " You can't get the swing, unless you begin 
 young," said Mr. Taft, as he hunted up a 
 teacher for his boy and applauded the change 
 of games. For the President is a most enthusi- 
 astic golfer, doing his "81 " with ease, and 
 never more contented than when on the Fair 
 Greens chasing the fascinating white pellet. 
 
 Inclined to portliness, the " Big Fellow " 
 
 keeps down his flesh by means of this enjoyable 
 
 exercise and announced immediately after his 
 
 election : "lam going to do my part to make 
 
 320 
 
The Household of Taft 
 
 golf one of the popular outdoor exercises. A 
 man of my build requires exercise in the open 
 air and exercise to be beneficial must be enter- 
 taining. In golf there is just enough skill re- 
 quired to get up a keen interest in the game 
 and this takes up your thoughts, while you are 
 getting a five or six mile walk." 
 
 It is safe to predict that the Chevy Chase 
 Links will be a favorite resort for the presi- 
 dential family during the next four years. 
 
 Mrs. Taft often follows her husband around 
 the golf course, although she does not play, her 
 favorite amusement being a quiet, scientific game 
 of bridge whist at home. 
 
 Loving politics even better than the Presi- 
 dent, the past year has been to her a most ex- 
 citing one, and the month of June, 1908, when 
 the Republican Convention met at Chicago, was 
 naturally a period of anxiety to both her and 
 her children. 
 
 At last, one afternoon, a trim figure in a 
 white linen suit .and flower-laden hat, might 
 have been seen emerging from a substantial 
 brick house on K Street, in Washington and, in 
 company with a few friends, go tripping over 
 the heated pavements, to the War Department, 
 where the door-keeper greeted her with a sym- 
 pathetic grin. For well he knew she had come 
 321 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 to learn the fate of her candidate, in the Phoenix 
 City. In the office of the Secretary of War, 
 then, she waited with all the patience she could 
 command, until the little telegraph instrument 
 ticked off the words : " Taft nominated," when 
 congratulations sounded on all sides. 
 
 Meanwhile, within the K Street residence a 
 girl was wandering nervously up and down, un- 
 able to settle down to anything. It was Miss 
 Helen, and afterward, she thus described her 
 feelings on the eventful day: 
 
 " Mamma went over early and I intended to 
 go down, too, but I was so restless. When I 
 tried to read ' Chicago ' danced all over the 
 pages. I tried doing my hair different ways, but 
 it did no good. About two o'clock I went down 
 and, finally the news came and then I am not just 
 sure what did happen." 
 
 In November the People ratified the choice 
 then made, while the fourth of March, 1909, 
 brought to a glad culmination the campaign be- 
 gun in June. 
 
 This is the household which has recently taken 
 the place of the bunch of Knickerbockers and 
 from far and near gathered the Taft clan — - 
 twenty-seven of them — ranging in age from 
 Miss Delia Torrey, the President's aged aunt 
 of eighty-two, down to year-old Baby Ingalls, 
 322 
 
The Household of Taft 
 
 his grand-niece, all eager to see their " big man," 
 crowned with the country's choicest gift. 
 
 " It seems good to have an established home," 
 remarked genial William Howard, as he entered 
 the White House on the eve of his inauguration, 
 the guest of the out-going occupant. " For nine 
 years I have lived in my hat." 
 
 At the breakfast table next morning, how- 
 ever, he said to his host, glancing out at the 
 fierce snowstorm then raging: "Mr. Presi- 
 dent, even the elements protest. I knew it 
 would be a cold day when I became President. 
 
 " Mr. President-elect! " was Roosevelt's quick 
 rejoinder, " I knew there would be a blizzard 
 clear up to the minute I went out of office." 
 
 A blizzard it was, indeed, and few Chief 
 Magistrates have been inaugurated in such a 
 storm. The grand parade was seriously marred 
 and, for the first time since Jackson, the inau- 
 gural address was delivered under a roof. 
 
 Mr. Taft took the oath of office in the Senate 
 Chamber, and it might have been termed a 
 violet function, so many of the women wore 
 that flower, to match their purple gowns. His 
 voice was clear, and curiously enough, when he 
 kissed the open Bible, his lips rested reverently, 
 though quite unintentionally, upon King Solo- 
 mon's prayer for wisdom: 
 323 
 
Boys and Girls of the White House 
 
 " Give, therefore, Thy servant an understand- 
 ing heart to judge Thy people, that I may dis- 
 cern between good and bad; for who is able to 
 judge Thy so great people." 
 
 Setting an entirely fresh precedent, Mrs. Taft 
 rode back from the Capitol in the same car- 
 riage with the newly-made President and Vice- 
 President, entering the White House as its mis- 
 tress just one hundred years from the time win- 
 some Dolly Madison began her ever-remem- 
 bered and captivating reign there. 
 
 " Good-bye, Teddy ! " chorused the crowd, as 
 the ex-ruler boarded the train for New York 
 and, declaring he had had " a bully time as Pres- 
 ident," Theodore Roosevelt gaily passed out of 
 office, for "The King is dead; long live the 
 King ! " and all over the land a funny little 
 " Billy " Possom is endeavoring to drive 
 " Teddy Bear " from the arms and affections of 
 Young America. 
 
 At eventide, some rays of light struggled 
 through the clouds and the grand inaugural ball 
 at night was far more of a success than the day 
 had been. 
 
 The first lady's empire robe was richly em- 
 broidered with goldenrod, which so many have 
 thought should be our national flower; while 
 324 
 
The Household of Taft 
 
 Miss Helen danced In a pretty girlish gown of 
 white mousseline de soie, relieved by blue rib- 
 bons. 
 
 Meanwhile, outside, Pennsylvania Avenue 
 was turned into a " Great White Way," with 
 miles of illuminations, and wonderful pyrotech- 
 nics delighted the populace. 
 
 The Taft boys, too, attracted their share of 
 attention, but, as this story of a Century of 
 White House life goes to press, the historic 
 Mansion is quiet enough, Helen and Robert hav- 
 ing returned to college and the youngest being 
 away at his uncle's school in Connecticut. 
 
 " Charles is to go to Yale University, and 
 Robert to the Harvard Law School as soon as 
 he is graduated," confided their mother to an 
 interviewer, " for, like his father, he will make 
 law his profession." 
 
 " I suppose," she added laughingly, " Char- 
 ley will be a lawyer, too; there is so much law 
 in the family that he will come naturally by it." 
 
 Only at holiday time, then, can the sons of 
 the household be much in Washington, but, ere 
 long, brown-eyed Helen Taft will take her place 
 as the Daughter of the National Homestead, 
 enjoying her first social season and dreaming her 
 girlish dreams in the same old rooms as high- 
 bred Maria Monroe, willful Hortensia Hay, 
 325 
 
Boys and Girls of the White Hous e 
 
 charming Harriet Lane, the merry Randolphs, 
 Anna Payne and blithe Nellie Grant. Perhaps 
 she may pore over the same volumes as brainy 
 Mary Fillmore and, like fair, saucy Alice Tyler, 
 she will certainly worship at old St. John's, 
 where she was confirmed a few years ago, in the 
 same class with Ethel Roosevelt. Thither, her 
 mother will accompany her, but not so her 
 father, as our twenty-seventh President comes of 
 a long line of Unitarians and is a member of All 
 Souls' Church. 
 
 The roguish faces of Archie and Quentin 
 will be missed but, when at home, young Char- 
 ley will largely fill their place, as he frolics and 
 plays his elfish pranks in the spacious grounds 
 and long corridors where have romped the 
 bright Hayes and Garfield children, the little 
 Pattersons and Stovers, mischievous Tad Lin- 
 coln and his brother Willie, Nellie Arthur, 
 " Baby McKee " and many other boys and girls 
 of the White House. 
 
 326 
 

 
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