I met my future father-in-law, Samuel L. Gouverneur, Sr., for the first time in Cold Spring, New York. Mr. Gouverneur, accompanied by his second wife, then a bride, who was Miss Mary Digges Lee, of Needwood, Frederick County, Maryland, and a granddaughter of Thomas Sim Lee, second Governor of the same state, was the guest of Gouverneur Kemble. When I first knew Mr. Gouverneur he possessed every gift that fortune as well as nature can bestow. To quote the words of Eliab Kingman, a lifelong friend of his and who for many years was the Nestor of the Washington press, “he even possessed a seductive voice.” General Scott, prior to my marriage into the family, remarked to me that there “was something in Mr. Gouverneur lacking of greatness.”

The history of my husband’s family is so well known that it seems almost superfluous to dwell upon it, but, as these reminiscences are purely personal, I may at least incidentally refer to it. Samuel L. Gouverneur, Sr., was the youngest child of Nicholas Gouverneur and his wife, Hester Kortright, a daughter of Lawrence Kortright, a prominent merchant of New York and at one time president of its Chamber of Commerce. He was graduated from Columbia College in New York in the class of 1817, and married his first cousin, Maria Hester Monroe, the younger daughter of James Monroe. This wedding took place in the East Room of the White House. My husband, Samuel L. Gouverneur, Jr., was the youngest child of this alliance. The National Intelligencer of March 11, 1820, contained the following brief marriage notice:

Married

On Thursday evening last [March 9th], in this City, by the Reverend Mr. [William] Hawley, Samuel Laurence Gouverneur, Esq., of New York, to Miss Maria Hester Monroe, youngest daughter of James Monroe, President of the United States.

For a number of years Samuel L. Gouverneur, Sr., was private secretary to his father-in-law, President Monroe. In 1825 he was a member of the New York Legislature, and from 1828 to 1836 Postmaster of the City of New York. For many years, like the gentlemen of his day and class, he was much interested in racehorses and at one time owned the famous horse, Post Boy. He was also deeply interested in the drama and it was partially through his efforts that many brilliant stars were brought to this country to perform at the Bowery Theater in New York, of which he was a partial owner. Among its other owners were Prosper M. Wetmore, the well-known author and regent of the University of the State of New York, and General James A. Hamilton, son of Alexander Hamilton and acting Secretary of State in 1829, under Jackson. Mr. Gouverneur was a man of decidedly social tastes and at one period of his life owned and occupied the De Menou buildings on H Street in Washington, where, during the life of his first wife, he gave some brilliant entertainments. It was from this house that his son, and my future husband, went to the Mexican War. Many years subsequent to my marriage I heard Rear Admiral John J. Almy, U.S.N., describe some of the entertainments given by the Gouverneur family, and he usually wound up his reminiscences by informing me that sixteen baskets of champagne were frequently consumed by the guests during a single evening. My old friend, Emily Mason, loved to refer to these parties and told me that she made her debut at one of them. The house was well adapted for entertainments, as there were four spacious drawing-rooms, two on each side of a long hall, one side being reserved for dancing.

At the time of the Gouverneur-Monroe wedding the bride was but sixteen years of age, and many years younger than her only sister, Eliza, who was the wife of Judge George Hay of Virginia, the United States District-Attorney of that State, and the prosecuting officer at the trial of Aaron Burr. Mrs. Hay was educated in Paris at Madame Campan’s celebrated school, where she was the associate and friend of Hortense de Beauharnais, subsequently the Queen of Holland and the mother of Napoleon III. The Rev. Dr. William Hawley, who performed the marriage ceremony of Miss Monroe and Mr. Gouverneur, was the rector of old St. John’s Church in Washington. He was a gentleman of the old school and always wore knee breeches and shoe buckles. In the War of 1812 he commanded a company of divinity students in New York, enlisted for the protection of the city. It is said that when ordered to the frontier he refused to go and resigned his commission, and I have heard that Commodore Stephen Decatur refused to attend St. John’s Church during his rectorship, because he said he did not care to listen to a man who refused to obey orders.

Only the relatives and personal friends attended the Gouverneur-Monroe wedding at the White House; even the members of the Cabinet were not invited. The gallant General Thomas S. Jesup, one of the heroes of the War of 1812 and Subsistance Commissary General of the Army, acted as groomsman to Mr. Gouverneur. Two of his daughters, Mrs. James Blair and Mrs. Augustus S. Nicholson, still reside at the National Capital and are prominent “old Washingtonians.” After this quiet wedding, Mr. and Mrs. Gouverneur left Washington upon a bridal tour and about a week later returned to the White House, where, at a reception, Mrs. Monroe gave up her place as hostess to mingle with her guests, while Mrs. Gouverneur received in her place. Commodore and Mrs. Stephen Decatur, who lived on Lafayette Square, gave the bride her first ball, and two mornings later, on the twenty-second of March, 1820, Decatur fought his fatal duel with Commodore James Barron and was brought home a corpse. “The bridal festivities,” wrote Mrs. William Winston Seaton, wife of the editor of The National Intelligencer, “have received a check which will prevent any further attentions to the President’s family, in the murder of Decatur.” The invitations already sent out for an entertainment in honor of the bride and groom by Commodore David Porter, father of the late Admiral David D. Porter, U.S.N., were immediately countermanded.

I never had the pleasure of knowing my mother-in-law, Mrs. Maria Hester Monroe Gouverneur, as she died some years before my marriage, but I learned to revere her through her son, whose tender regard for her was one of the absorbing affections of his life and changed the whole direction of his career. At an early age he was appointed a Lieutenant in the regular Army and served with distinction through the Mexican War in the Fourth Artillery. On one occasion subsequent to that conflict, while his mother was suffering from a protracted illness, he applied to the War Department for leave of absence in order that he might visit her sick bed; and when it was not granted he resigned his commission and thus sacrificed an enviable position to his sense of filial duty. Many years later, after my husband’s decease, in looking over his papers I found these lines written by him just after his mother’s death:

“A man through life has but one true friend and that friend generally leaves him early. Man enters the lists of life but ere he has fought his way far that friend falls by his side; he never finds another so fond, so true, so faithful to the last His Mother!”

Mrs. Gouverneur was somewhat literary in her tastes and, like many others of her time, regarded it as an accomplishment to express herself in verse on sentimental occasions. One of my daughters, whom she never saw, owns the original manuscript of the following lines written as a tribute of friendship to the daughter of President John Tyler, at the time of her marriage:

TO MISS TYLER ON HER WEDDING DAY.

The day, the happy day, has come
That gives you to your lover’s arms;
Check not the tear or rising bloom
That springs from all those strange alarms.

To be a blest and happy wife
Is what all women wish to prove;
And may you know through all your life
The dear delights of wedded love.

’Tis not strange that you should feel
Confused in every thought and feeling;
Your bosom heave, the tear should steal
At thoughts of all the friends you’re leaving.

Happy girl may your life prove,
All sunshine, joy and purest pleasure;
One long, long day of happy love,
Your husband’s joy, his greatest treasure.

Be to him all that woman ought,
In joy and health and every sorrow;
Let his true pleasures be only sought
With you to-day, with you to-morrow.

Believe not that in palace walls
’Tis only there that joy you’ll find;
At home with friends in your own halls
There’s more content and peace of mind.

More splendor you may find ’tis true,
And glitter, show, and elevation,
But if the world of you speak true,
You prize not wealth or this high station.

Your heart’s too pure, your mind too high,
To prize such empty pomp and state;
You leave such scenes without a sigh
To court the joys that on you wait.

After meeting Mr. and Mrs. Gouverneur, my future husband’s father and his second wife, at Cold Spring, I renewed my acquaintance with them in Washington, where they were living in an old-fashioned house on New York Avenue, between Fourteenth and Fifteenth Streets. We often welcomed Mrs. Gouverneur as a guest at our Washington home and I was subsequently invited to visit her at their country seat, Needwood, Frederick County, Maryland, located upon a tract of land chiefly composed of large farms at one time owned exclusively by the Lee family. I quote Mrs. Gouverneur’s graceful letter of invitation:

My dear Miss Campbell,

I can not refrain from writing to remind you of your promise to us; this must be about the time fixed upon, (at least we all feel as if it was), and the season is so delightful, not to mention the strawberries which will be in great perfection this week these reasons, together with our great desire to see you, determined me to give you warning that we are surely expecting you, and hope to hear very soon from you to say when we may send to the Knoxville depot for you. I would be so much gratified if Mrs. Eames would come with you; it would give us all the sincerest pleasure, and I do not think that such a journey would be injurious. You leave Washington to come here on the early (6 o’clock) train, get out at the Relay House, and wait until the western cars pass, (about 8 o’clock), get into them, and reach Knoxville at 12 o’clock. So you see that altogether you have only six hours, and you rest more than half an hour at the Relay House. From Knoxville our carriage brings you to “Needwood” in less than an hour. If there is any gentleman you would like to come as an escort Mr. G. and myself will be most happy to see him. Dr. Jones, you know, does intend to travel about a little and said he would come to see us; perhaps he will come with you, or Mr. Hibbard I should be most happy to see anyone in short whom you choose to bring will be most welcome. Tell Mr. Hibbard I read his speech and admired it as I presume everyone does. Good-bye, dear Miss Campbell. I hope you will aid me in persuading Mrs. Eames to come with you. My warmest regards to Mrs. Campbell and your sisters, in which my sister [Mrs. Eugene H. Lynch] and Mr. Gouverneur unite.

Believe me, yours most truly,

M. D. GOUVERNEUR.

Needwood, May 22nd, 1854.

I accepted the invitation and, while I was Mrs. Gouverneur’s guest, my sister Margaret was visiting one of the adjoining places at the home of Colonel John Lee, whose wife’s maiden name was Harriet Carroll. She was a granddaughter of Charles Carroll of Carrollton, and their home was the former residence of another ancestor, Governor Thomas Sim Lee of Maryland. During my visit at Needwood I renewed the acquaintance of my future husband, which I had formed a number of years before at the wedding of Miss Fanny Monroe and Douglas Robinson, of which I have previously spoken. It is unnecessary to refer to his appearance, which I have already described, but I am sure it is not unnatural for me to add that a year after the conclusion of the Mexican War he was brevetted for gallantry and meritorious conduct in the battles of Contreras and Churubusco. While his general bearing spoke well for his military training, his mind was a storehouse of information which I learned to appreciate more and more as the years rolled by. But of all his fine characteristics I valued and revered him most for his fine sense of honor and sterling integrity. Like his mother, Mr. Gouverneur was literary in his tastes and occasionally gave vent to his feelings in verse. In 1852 Oak Hill, the stately old Monroe place in Virginia where he had spent much of his early life, was about to pass out of the family. He was naturally much distressed over the sale of the home so intimately associated with his childhood’s memory, and a few days prior to his final departure wrote the following lines. In after years nothing could ever induce him to visit Oak Hill.

FAREWELL TO OAK HILL, 1852, ON DEPARTING THENCE.

The autumn rains are falling fast,
Earth, the heavens are overcast;
The rushing winds mournful sigh,
Whispering, alas! good-bye;
To each fond remembrance farewell and forever,
Oak Hill I depart to return to thee never!

The mighty oaks beneath whose shade
In boyhood’s happier hours I’ve played,
Bend to the mountain blast’s wild sweep,
Scattering spray they seem to weep;
To each moss-grown tree farewell and forever,
Oak Hill I depart to return to thee never!

The little mound now wild o’ergrown,
On the bosom of which my tears have oft flown,
Where my mother beside her mother lies sleeping,
O’er them the rank grass, bright dew drops are weeping;
To that hallowed spot farewell and forever,
Oak Hill I depart to return to thee never!

Oh, home of my boyhood, why must I depart?
Tears I am shedding and wild throbs my heart;
Home of my manhood, oh! would I had died
And lain me to rest by my dead mother’s side,
Ere my tongue could have uttered farewell and forever,
Oak Hill I depart to return to thee never!

Mr. Gouverneur’s pathetic allusion to the graves of his mother and grandmother affords me an opportunity of saying that in 1903 the Legislature of Virginia appropriated a sum of money sufficient to remove the remains of Mrs. Monroe and her daughter, Mrs. Gouverneur, from Oak Hill. They now rest in Hollywood Cemetery, Richmond, Virginia, on opposite sides of the grave of James Monroe.

The friendship of Mr. Gouverneur and myself ripened into a deep affection, and the winter following my visit to Needwood we announced our engagement. I was warmly welcomed into the Gouverneur family, as will appear from the following letter:

I can not longer defer, my dear Marian, expressing the great gratification I experienced when Sam informed me of his happiness in having gained your heart. It is most agreeable to me that you of all the women I know should be the object of his choice. How little I anticipated such a result from the short visit you made us last summer. Sam is in an Elysium of bliss. I have lately had a charming letter from him, of course all about his lady love. I think you too have every reason to anticipate a life of happiness, not more marred than we must all look for in this world. Sam is very warm-hearted and affectionate and possesses a fine mind, as you know, and when he marries, you will have nothing to wish for. These are his own sentiments and I assure you I entirely agree with him.

Mr. Gouverneur is greatly gratified and both wrote and told
me how nobly you expressed yourself to him.

I am going to Baltimore to-day to meet Mr. G. and perhaps may go to Washington. If I do you will see me soon after I arrive there. I feel as if I should like so much to talk to my future daughter. I take the warmest interest in everything concerning Sam’s happiness, and my heart is now overflowing with thankfulness to you for having contributed so much to it.

Please remember me in the kindest manner to your mother, whose warm hospitality I have not forgotten, and to the girls. My sincere congratulations to Margaret who Mary [Lee] writes me is as happy as the day is long. Ellen desires me to present her congratulations to you and Margaret.

Believe me, very sincerely yours,

M. D. GOUVERNEUR.

Needwood, Feth.

I was married in Washington in the old G Street house, and the occasion was made especially festive by the presence of many friends from out of town. We were married by the Rev. Dr. Smith Pyne, rector of St. John’s Episcopal Church, and I recall his nervous state of mind, owing to the fact that he had forgotten to inquire whether a marriage license had been procured; but when he was assured that everything was in due form he was quite himself again. Among those who came from New York to attend the wedding were General Scott; my father’s old friend and associate, Hugh Maxwell; his daughter, now the wife of Rear Admiral John H. Upshur, U.S.N.; and Miss Sally Strother and her mother. Miss Emily Harper and Mrs. Solomon B. Davies, who was Miss Bettie Monroe, my husband’s relative, came from Baltimore and, of course, Mr. and Mrs. Gouverneur and Miss Mary Lee from Needwood were also present.

My own family circle was small, as my sister, Mrs. Eames, and her young children were in Venezuela, where her husband was the U.S. Minister; but I was married in the presence of my mother, my two younger sisters, Margaret and Charlotte, and my brothers, James and Malcolm. Mr. Gouverneur’s only sister, Elizabeth, who some years before had married Dr. Henry Lee Heiskell, Assistant Surgeon General of the Army, accompanied by her husband and son, the late James Monroe Heiskell, of Baltimore, a handsome and promising youth, were also there. Among the other guests were Charles Sumner, Caleb Cushing and Stephen A. Douglas, none of whom at that time were married; Peter Grayson Washington, then Assistant Secretary of the Treasury, and a relative of my husband; Miss Katharine Maria Wright, who shortly thereafter married Baron J. C. Gevers, Charge d’affaires from Holland; her brother, Edward Wright, of Newark; John G. Floyd of Long Island; James Guthrie, Secretary of the Treasury, and his two daughters; William L. Marcy, Secretary of State, and his wife; their daughter, Miss Cornelia Marcy, subsequently Mrs. Edmund Pendleton; Baron von Grabow and Alexandre Gau of the Prussian Legation, the latter of whom married my sister, Margaret, the following year; Mr. and Mrs. William T. Carroll; Lieutenant (subsequently Rear Admiral) James S. Palmer of the Navy; Jerome E. Kidder of Boston, and General William J. Hardee, U.S.A.

A few days before my marriage I received the following letter from Edward Everett:

BOSTON, 23 Feb.

My dear Miss Campbell,

I had much pleasure in receiving this morning Mrs. Campbell’s invitation and your kind note of the 20th. I am greatly indebted to you for remembering me on an occasion of so much interest and importance, and I beg to offer you my sincere congratulations.

Greatly would it rejoice me to be able to avail myself of
your invitation to be present at your nuptials.

But the state of my health and of my family makes this
impossible. But I shall certainly be with you in spirit, and
with cordial wishes for your happiness.

Praying my kindest remembrance to your mother and sisters, I
remain,

my dear Miss Campbell,

Sincerely your friend,

EDWARD EVERETT.

P.S. I suppose you saw in the papers a day or two ago that
poor Miss Russell is gone.

The Miss Russell referred to by Mr. Everett was Miss Ida Russell, one of three handsome and brilliant sisters prominent in Boston in the society of the day.

Soon after my marriage my husband and I made a round of visits to his numerous family connections. It is with more than usual pleasure that I recall the beautiful old home of Mr. Gouverneur’s aunt, Mrs. Thomas Cadwalader, near Trenton, which a few years later was destroyed by fire. A guest of the Cadwaladers at the same time with ourselves was my husband’s first cousin, the Rev. Robert Livingston Tillotson of New York, who studied for the Episcopal ministry and subsequently entered the Roman Catholic priesthood.

From Trenton, we journeyed to Yonkers, New York, to visit the Van Cortlandt family at the historic manor-house in that vicinity. It was then owned and occupied by Mr. Gouverneur’s relatives, Dr. Edward N. Bibby and his son, Augustus, the latter of whom had recently changed his name from Bibby to Van Cortlandt, as a consideration for the inheritance of this fine old estate. Dr. Bibby married Miss Augusta White of the Van Cortlandt descent, and for many years was a prominent physician in New York City. When I visited the family, he had retired from active practice and was enjoying a serene old age surrounded by his children and grandchildren. Henry Warburton Bibby, the Doctor’s second son, was also one of this household at the time of our visit. He never married but retained his social tastes until his death a few years ago.

In the drawing-room of the Van Cortlandt home stood a superb pair of brass andirons in the form of lions, which had been presented to Mrs. Augustus Van Cortlandt by my husband’s mother as a bridal present. They had been brought by James Monroe upon his return from France, where he had been sent upon his historic diplomatic mission by Washington. The style of life led by the Van Cortlandt family was fascinating to me as, even at this late date, they clung to many of the old family customs inherited from their ancestors. Our next visit was to the cottage of William Kemble in Cold Spring, and it seemed to me like returning to an old and familiar haunt. My marriage into the Gouverneur family added another link in the chain of friendship attaching me to the members of the Kemble family, as they were relatives of my husband. I was entertained while there by the whole family connection, and I recall with especial pleasure the dinner parties at Gouverneur Kemble’s and at Mrs. Robert P. Parrott’s. Martin Van Buren was visiting “Uncle Gouv” at the time, and I was highly gratified to meet him again, as his presence not only revived memories of childhood’s days during my father’s lifetime in New York, but also materially assisted in rendering the entertainments given in my honor at Cold Spring unusually delightful. From Cold Spring we drove to The Grange, near Garrison’s, another homestead familiar to me in former days, and the residence of Frederick Philipse, where I renewed my acquaintance with old friends who now greeted me as a relative. At this beautiful home I saw a pair of andirons even handsomer than those at the Van Cortlandt mansion. They were at least two feet high and represented trumpeters. The historic house was replete with ancestral furniture and fine old portraits, one of which was attributed to Vandyke.

The whole Philipse and Gouverneur connection at Garrison’s were devoted Episcopalians and were largely instrumental in building a fine church at Garrison’s, which they named St. Philips. In more recent years a congregation of prominent families has worshiped in this edifice among others, the Fishes, Ardens, Livingstons, Osborns and Sloanes. For many years the beloved rector of this church was the Rev. Dr. Charles F. Hoffman, a gentleman of great wealth and much scholarly ability. He and his brother, the late Rev. Dr. Eugene A. Hoffman, Dean of the General Theological Seminary in New York, devoted their lives and fortunes to the cause of religion. Residents of New York are familiar with All Angels Church, built by the late Rev. Dr. Charles F. Hoffman on West End Avenue, of which he was rector for a number of years. During his life at Garrison’s, both Dr. and Mrs. Hoffman were very acceptable to my husband’s relatives, especially as the Doctor was connected with the family by right of descent from a Gouverneur forbear. Charles F. Hoffman married Miss Eleanor Louisa Vail, a daughter of David M. Vail of New Brunswick, New Jersey, who in every way proved herself an able helpmeet to him. Mrs. Hoffman was educated at Miss Hannah Hoyt’s school in New Brunswick, a fashionable institution of the day, and at a reunion of the scholars held in recent years, she was mentioned in the following appropriate manner: “Nearly half a century ago, in the well-known Miss Hoyt’s school, was Eleanor Louisa Vail who was noted for her good lessons and considerate ways towards all. She never overlooked those who were less fortunate than herself, but gave aid to any who needed it, either in their lessons or in a more substantial form. In the wider circle of New York the benevolent Mrs. Hoffman, the wife of the late generous rector of All Angels Church, but fulfilled the promise made by the beautiful girl of former days.” Mr. and Mrs. Charles F. Hoffman’s daughter, Mrs. J. Van Vechten Olcott, is as beloved in her generation as her mother was before her.

Samuel Mongan Warburton Gouverneur, a younger brother of Frederick Philipse, was living at The Grange at the time of my visit. Some years later he built a handsome house in the neighborhood which he called “Eagle’s Rest,” and resided there with his sister, Miss Mary Marston Gouverneur. After his death, the place was sold to the late Louis Fitzgerald, who made it his home.

After six months spent in the mountainous regions of Maryland, not far from Cumberland, on property owned by my husband’s family, Mr. Gouverneur and I returned to Washington and began our married life in my mother’s home. Soon after we had settled down, my eldest daughter was born. The death of my sister, Mrs. Alexandre Gau, from typhoid fever soon followed. It was naturally a terrible shock to us all and especially to me, as we were near of an age and our lives had been side by side from infancy. My mother, in her great affliction, broke up her home and Mr. Gouverneur and I rented a house on Twelfth Street, near N Street, a locality then regarded as quite suburban. Here I endeavored to live in the closest retirement, as the meeting with friends of former days only served to bring my sorrow more keenly before me.

Meanwhile my whole life was devoted to the little girl whom we had named Maud Campbell, and who, of course, had become “part and parcel” of my quiet life. Mr. Gouverneur was the last surviving member of his family in the male line, and the whole family connection was looking to me to perpetuate his name. Soon after the birth of my daughter my husband received the following characteristic letter from Mr. Gouverneur’s aunt, Mrs. David Johnstone Verplanck, who before her marriage was Louisa A. Gouverneur, a gifted woman whose home was in New York:

THURSDAY, April 10th.

My dear Sam,

In return for your kind recollections I hasten to offer my most sincere congratulations to yourself and Mrs. G. As husband and father you have now realized all the romance of life, the pleasures of which I have little doubt you already begin to feel deeply intermingled with many anxious hours. It is wisest and best to enjoy all that good fortune sends and fortify ourselves to meet and endure the trials to which our Destiny has allotted.

Tell Mrs. G. that we must send for the girdle the old woman sent the Empress Eugenie. She had a succession of seven sons, and requested her to wear it for luck. As it was very dirty the royal lady sent it back. It might be procured and undergo the purifying influence of water. All I can say at present to console your disappointment I hope a son will soon consummate all your joys and wishes. You know it rests with you to keep the name of Gouverneur in the land of the living. It is nearly extinct and you its only salvation.

I regret to hear your father is unwell at Barnum’s [Hotel,
Baltimore]. I hope he will soon be with us. I long to see
him.

Believe me always your friend,

LOUISA VERPLANCK.

I also append a letter received by Mr. Gouverneur from Mrs. William Kemble (Margaret Chatham Seth), which recalled many tender associations.

NEW YORK 11th April.

I need not tell you, my dear friend, how much we were all gratified by your kind remembrance of us, in the midst of your own anxiety and joy, to give us the first news of our dear Marian’s safety. Give my very best love to her and a kiss to Miss Gouverneur with whom I hope to be better acquainted hereafter.

Mr. and Mrs. Nourse with our dear little Charlie left us yesterday for Washington. You will probably see them before you receive this. I feel assured that Marian is blessed in being with her mother who has every experience necessary for her. Therefore it is idle for me to give my advice but I must say, keep her quiet, not to be too smart or anxious to show her baby at first and she will be better able to do it afterwards. May God bless you all three and that this dear pledge committed to your charge be to you both every comfort and joy that your anxious hearts can wish. Please to give my best regards and wishes to Mrs. Campbell and her daughter from

your sincerely attached friend and cousin,

M. C. KEMBLE.

On the corner of Fourteenth and P Streets, and not far from our home, was the residence of Eliab Kingman, an intimate friend of Mr. Gouverneur’s father. This locality, now such a business center, was decidedly rural, and Mr. Kingman’s quaint and old-fashioned house was in the middle of a small farm. It was an oddly constructed dwelling and the interior was made unusually attractive by its wealth of curios, among which was a large collection of Indian relics. After his death I attended an auction held in the old home and I remember that these curiosities were purchased by Ben Perley Poore, the well-known journalist. Although many years his senior, my husband found Mr. Kingman and his home a source of great pleasure to him, and he formed an attachment for his father’s early friend which lasted through life. The Kingman house was the rendezvous of both literary and political circles. William H. Seward was one of its frequent visitors and I once heard him wittily remark that it might appropriately be worshiped, as it resembled nothing “that is in the Heaven above, or in the earth beneath, or the water under the earth.” For a number of years Mr. Kingman was a correspondent of The Baltimore Sun under the nom de plume of “Ion.” His communications were entirely confined to political topics and he was such a skilled diplomatist that the adherents of either party, after perusing them, might easily recognize him as their own advocate. Thomas Seaton Donoho, of whom I shall speak presently, was a warm friend of Mr. Kingman and the constant recipient of his hospitality. Among his poems is a graceful sonnet entitled

E. KINGMAN.

Ever will I remember with delight
Strawberry Knoll; not for the berries red,
As, ere my time, the vines were out of bed,
And gone; but many a day and many a night
Have given me argument to love it well,
Whether in Summer, ’neath its perfumed shade,
Whether by moonlight’s magic wand arrayed,
Or when in Winter’s lap the rose leaves fell,
For pleasant faces ever there were found,
For genial welcome ever met me there,
And thou, my friend, when thought went smiling round,
Madest her calm look, reflecting thine, more fair.
Those who have known thee as a Statesman, know
Thy noon-day: I have felt thy great heart’s sunset glow!

Mr. Kingman married Miss Cordelia Ewell of Virginia, a relative of General Richard S. Ewell of the Confederate Army. She was in some respects a remarkable character, a “dyed-in-the-wool” Southerner and a woman of unusual personal charm and ability. In dress, manner and general appearance she presented a fitting reminder of the grande dame of long ago. Her style of dress reminded one of the Quaker school. Her gray gown with a white kerchief crossed neatly upon her breast and her gray hair with puffs clustered around her ears, together with her quaint manner of courtesying as she greeted her guests, suggested the familiar setting of an old-fashioned picture. She was an accomplished performer upon the harp as well as an authority upon old English literature. In all the years I knew her I never heard of her leaving her house. She had no children and her constant companion was a venerable parrot.

John Savage, familiarly known as “Jack” Savage, was an intimate friend of the Kingmans and also a frequent guest of ours. He was an Irish patriot of 1848 and was remarkable for his versatility. He had a fine voice, and I remember seeing him on one occasion hold his audience spell-bound while singing “The Temptation of St. Anthony.” He was an accomplished journalist and the author of several books, one of which, “The Modern Revolutionary History and Literature of Ireland,” has been pronounced the best work extant “on the last great revolutionary era of the Irish race.”

After the Civil War I often met at Mr. Kingman’s house General Benjamin F. Butler, whose withering gift of sarcasm is still remembered. Simon Cameron, Lincoln’s first Secretary of War, was also a frequent visitor there. He was an unusually genial and cordial gentleman, and some years later Mr. Kingman and my husband, upon his urgent invitation, visited him at his handsome country place, Lochiel, in Pennsylvania. His fine graperies made such a vivid impression upon my husband that his description of them almost enabled me to see the luscious fruit itself before me.

My old friends, Purser Horatio Bridge, U.S.N., and his wife, lived on the corner of K and Fourteenth Streets at a hotel then known as the Rugby House. Mrs. Bridge was a sister of the famous beauty, Miss Emily Marshall, who married Harrison Gray Otis of Boston. Mr. Bridge, while on the active list, had been stationed for a time in Washington and, finding the life congenial and attractive, returned here after his retirement and with his wife made his home at the Rugby House. While there the hotel was offered for sale and was bought by Mr. Bridge, who enlarged it and changed its name to The Hamilton, in compliment to Mrs. Hamilton Holly, an intimate friend of Mrs. Bridge and the daughter of Alexander Hamilton. Mrs. Holly, my old and cherished friend, lived in a picturesque cottage on I Street, on the site of the present Russian embassy, where so many years later the wife and daughter of Benjamin F. Tracy, Harrison’s Secretary of the Navy, lost their lives in a fire that destroyed the house. Among the attractions of this home was a remarkable collection of Hamilton relics which subsequent to Mrs. Holly’s death was sold at public auction. The sale, however, did not attract any particular attention, as the craze for antiques had not yet developed and the souvenir fiend was then unknown.

It was while I was living on Twelfth Street that I first met Miss Margaret Edes, so well known in after years to Washingtonians. She was visiting her relatives, the Donoho family, which lived in my immediate vicinity. Her host’s father was connected with The National Intelligencer, and the son, Thomas Seaton Donoho, was named after William Winston Seaton, one of its editors. Thomas Seaton Donoho was a truly interesting character. He was decidedly romantic in his ideas and many incidents of his life were curiously associated with the ivy vine. He planted a sprig of it in front of his three-story house, which was built very much upon the plan of every other dwelling in the neighborhood, and called his abode “Ivy Hall”; while his property in the vicinity of Washington he named “Ivy City,” a locality so well known to-day by the same name to the sporting fraternity. His book of poems, published in Washington in 1860, is entitled “Ivy-wall”; and, to cap the climax, when a girl was born into the Donoho family she was baptized in mid-ocean as “Atlantic May Ivy.” In addition to his poems, he published, in 1850, a drama in three acts, entitled, “Goldsmith of Padua,” and two years later “Oliver Cromwell,” a tragedy in five acts.

Soon after my marriage, Mr. Gouverneur acted as one of the pallbearers at the funeral of his early friend, Gales Seaton, the son of William Winston Seaton, and a most accomplished man of affairs. In those days honorary pallbearers were unknown and the coffin was borne to the grave by those with whom the deceased had been most intimately associated. The Seatons owned a family vault, and the body was carried down into it by Mr. Seaton’s old friends. After the funeral I heard Mr. Gouverneur speak of observing a coffin which held the remains of Mrs. Francis Schroeder, who was Miss Caroline Seaton, and whose husband, the father of Rear Admiral Seaton Schroeder, U.S.N., was at one time U.S. Minister to Sweden and Norway. Seaton Munroe, a nephew of Gales Seaton, was prominent in Washington society. He never married and many persons regarded him as the Ward McAllister of the Capital. When Colonel Sanford C. Kellogg, U.S.A., then military attache of the U.S. Embassy in Paris, heard of Munroe’s death, he wrote to a mutual friend: “I do not believe the man lives who has done more for the happiness and welfare of others than Seaton Munroe.” He was one of the prominent founders of the Metropolitan Club, which commenced its career in the old Morris house on the corner of Vermont Avenue and H Street; and later, when it moved to the Graham residence on the corner of Fifteenth and H Streets, he continued to be one of its most popular and influential members.

In April, 1858, occurred the famous Gwin ball, so readily recalled by old Washingtonians. It was a fancy-dress affair, and it was the intention of Senator and Mrs. William McKendree Gwin of California that it should be the most brilliant of its kind that the National Capital had ever known. Of course Mr. Gouverneur and I did not attend, owing to my deep mourning, but I shall always remember the pleasure and amusement we derived in dressing Mr. Kingman for the occasion. We decked him out in the old court dress which Mr. Gouverneur’s grandfather, James Monroe, wore during his diplomatic mission in France. As luck would have it the suit fitted him perfectly, and the next day it was quite as gratifying to us as to Mr. Kingman to hear that the costume attracted marked attention.

The ball was rightly adjudged a brilliant success. Among the guests was President Buchanan, though not, of course, in fancy dress. Senator Gwin represented Louis Quatorze; Ben Perley Poore, “Major Jack Downing”; Lord Napier, George Hammond the first British Minister to the United States; Mrs. Stephen A. Douglas, Aurora; Mrs. Jefferson Davis, Madame de Stael; and so on down the list. It is probable that the wife of Senator Clement C. Clay, of Alabama, who represented Mrs. Partington, attracted more attention and afforded more amusement than any other guest. Washington had fairly teemed with her brilliant repartee and other bright sayings, and upon this occasion she was, if possible, more than ever in her element. She had a witty encounter with the President and a familiar home-thrust for all whom she encountered. Many of the public characters present, when lashed by her sparkling humor, were either unable or unwilling to respond. She was accompanied by “Ike,” Mrs. Partington’s son, impersonated by a clever youth of ten years, son of John M. Sandidge of Louisiana. Mr. John Von Sonntag Haviland, formerly of the U.S. Army, wrote a metrical description of this ball, and in referring to Mrs. Clay, thus expresses himself:

Mark how the grace that gilds an honored name,
Gives a strange zest to that loquacious dame
Whose ready tongue and easy blundering wit
Provoke fresh uproar at each happy hit!
Note how her humour into strange grimace
Tempts the smooth meekness of yon Quaker’s face.

But denser grows the crowd round Partington;
’Twere vain to try to name them one by one.

Mr. Haviland added this to the above: “Mrs. Senator Clay, with knitting in hand, snuff-box in pocket, and ‘Ike, the Inevitable,’ by her side, acted out her difficult character so as to win the unanimous verdict that her personation of the loquacious mal-aprops dame was the leading feature of the evening’s entertainment. Go where she would through the spacious halls, a crowd of eager listeners followed her footsteps, drinking in her instant repartees, which were really superior in wit and appositeness, and, indeed, in the vein of the famous dame’s cacoethes, even to the original contribution of Shillaber to the nonsensical literature of the day.”

One of the guests at this ball was the wife of the late Major General William H. Emery, U.S.A., whose maiden name was Matilda Bache. She was arrayed for the evening in the garb of a Quakeress, and it is to her that Mr. Haviland alludes in his reference to the “smooth meekness of yon Quaker’s face.”

At the commencement of the Civil War, Senator Gwin was arrested on a charge of disloyalty and imprisoned until 1863. He then went to Paris, where he became interested in a scheme for the colonization by Southerners of the State of Sonora in Mexico, in consequence of which he was sometimes facetiously called the “Duke of Sonora.” While thus engaged, he was invited to meet the Emperor, Napoleon III., in private audience, and succeeded in enlisting his sympathies. It is said that, upon the request of the Minister of Foreign Affairs, he formulated a plan for the colony which, after receiving the Emperor’s approval, was submitted to Maximilian. The latter was then in Paris and requested Mr. Gwin’s attendance at the Tuileries where, after diligent inquiry, the scheme received the approbation of Maximilian. Two weeks after the departure of the latter for Mexico, Mr. Gwin left for the same country, carrying with him an autograph letter of Napoleon III. to Marshal Bazaine. The scheme, however, received no encouragement from the latter, and Maximilian failed to give him any satisfactory assurances of his support. Returning to France in 1865, he secured an audience with the Emperor, to whom he exposed the condition of affairs in Mexico. Napoleon urged him to return to that country immediately with a peremptory order to Marshal Bazaine to supply a military force adequate to accomplish the project. This request was complied with but Mr. Gwin, after meeting with no success, demanded an escort to accompany him out of the country. This was promptly furnished, and he returned to his home in California.

It seems fitting in this connection to speak of a brilliant ball in Washington in 1824. Although, of course, I do not remember it, I have heard of it all my life and have gathered here and there certain facts of interest concerning it, some of which are not easily accessible. I refer to the ball given by Mrs. John Quincy Adams, whose husband was then Secretary of State under Monroe. Mrs. Adams’ maiden name was Louisa Catharine Johnson and she was a daughter of Joshua Johnson, who served as our first United States Consul at London, and a niece of Thomas Johnson of Maryland. She gave receptions in Washington on Tuesday evenings which were attended by many of the most distinguished men and women of the day. This period, in fact, is generally regarded as, perhaps, the most brilliant era in Washington society. A generous hospitality was dispensed by such men as Madison, Monroe, Adams, Calhoun, Wirt, Rush, Southard, General Winfield Scott and General Alexander Macomb. The British Charge d’affaires at this time was Henry Unwin Addington. The Russian Minister was the Baron de Tuyll; while France, Spain and Portugal were represented by gentlemen of distinguished manners and rare accomplishments. The illustrious John Marshall was Chief Justice, with Joseph Story, Bushrod Washington, Smith Thompson and other eminent jurists by his side. In Congress were such men as Henry Clay, William Gaston, Rufus King, Daniel Webster, Andrew Jackson, Thomas H. Benton, William Jones Lowndes, John Jordan Crittenden and Harrison Gray Otis; while the Navy was represented by Stephen Decatur, David Porter, John Rodgers, Lewis Warrington, Charles Stewart, Charles Morris and others, some of whom made their permanent home at the Capital.

The ball given by the Secretary of State and Mrs. Adams was in honor of General Andrew Jackson, and was not only an expression of the pleasant personal relations existing between John Quincy Adams and Jackson only shortly before the former defeated the latter for the Presidency, but also a pleasing picture of Washington society at that time. General Jackson was naturally the hero of the occasion, and there was a throng of guests not only from Washington but also from Baltimore, Richmond and other cities. A current newspaper of the day published a metrical description of the event, written by John T. Agg:

MRS. ADAMS’ BALL.

Wend you with the world to-night?
Brown and fair and wise and witty,
Eyes that float in seas of light,
Laughing mouths and dimples pretty,
Belles and matrons, maids and madams,
All are gone to Mrs. Adams’;
There the mist of the future, the gloom of the past,
All melt into light at the warm glance of pleasure,
And the only regret is lest melting too fast,
Mammas should move off in the midst of a measure.

Wend you with the world to-night?
Sixty gray, and giddy twenty,
Flirts that court and prudes that slight,
State coquettes and spinsters plenty;
Mrs. Sullivan is there
With all the charm that nature lent her;
Gay McKim with city air,
And winning Gales and Vandeventer;
Forsyth, with her group of graces;
Both the Crowninshields in blue;
The Pierces, with their heavenly faces,
And eyes like suns that dazzle through;
Belles and matrons, maids and madams,
All are gone to Mrs. Adams’!

Wend you with the world to-night?
East and West and South and North,
Form a constellation bright,
And pour a splendid brilliance forth.
See the tide of fashion flowing,
’Tis the noon of beauty’s reign,
Webster, Hamiltons are going,
Eastern Floyd and Southern Hayne;
Western Thomas, gayly smiling,
Borland, nature’s protege,
Young De Wolfe, all hearts beguiling,
Morgan, Benton, Brown and Lee;
Belles and matrons, maids and madams,’
All are gone to Mrs. Adams’!

Wend you with the world to-night?
Where blue eyes are brightly glancing,
While to measures of delight
Fairy feet are deftly dancing;
Where the young Euphrosyne
Reigns the mistress of the scene,
Chasing gloom, and courting glee,
With the merry tambourine;
Many a form of fairy birth,
Many a Hebe, yet unwon,
Wirt, a gem of purest worth,
Lively, laughing Pleasanton;
Vails and Tayloe will be there,
Gay Monroe so debonair,
Hellen, pleasure’s harbinger,
Ramsay, Cottringers and Kerr;
Belles and matrons, maids and madams,
All are gone to Mrs. Adams’!

Wend you with the world to-night?
Juno in her court presides,
Mirth and melody invite,
Fashion points, and pleasure guides;
Haste away then, seize the hour,
Shun the thorn and pluck the flower.
Youth, in all its spring-time blooming,
Age the guise of youth assuming,
Wit through all its circles gleaming,
Glittering wealth and beauty beaming;
Belles and matrons, maids and madams,
All are gone to Mrs. Adams’!

The “Mrs. Sullivan” referred to was Sarah Bowdoin Winthrop, the wife of George Sullivan of Boston, son of Governor James Sullivan of Massachusetts; while “Winning Gales” was the wife of Joseph Gales, editor of The National Intelligencer. “Forsyth” was the wife of Senator John Forsyth of Georgia, who subsequently served as Secretary of State during Jackson’s administration; and “the Crowninshields in blue” were daughters of Benjamin W. Crowninshield, Secretary of the Navy under Madison and Monroe. “The Pierces, with their heavenly faces,” were handsome Boston women who in after life became converts to the Roman Catholic faith and entered convents. The “Vails” were Eugene and Aaron Vail, who were proteges of Senator William H. Crawford, of Georgia. They married sisters, daughters of Laurent Salles, a wealthy Frenchman living in New York. Aaron Vail accompanied Martin Van Buren to England as Secretary of Legation and for a season, after Van Buren’s recall, acted as Charge d’affaires. “Tayloe” was Benjamin Ogle Tayloe, the distinguished Washingtonian. “Ramsay” was General George Douglas Ramsay, the father of Rear Admiral Francis M. Ramsay, U.S.N.; and “Hellen” was Mrs. Adams’s niece, who subsequently became her daughter-in-law through her marriage to her son, John Adams. President Monroe attended this ball and both he and John Quincy Adams were somewhat criticised for their plain attire, which was in such striking contrast with the elaborate costumes and decorations worn by the foreign guests.

In his boyhood Mr. Gouverneur formed an intimacy with George H. Derby, better known in literary circles under the nom de plume of “John Phoenix.” He is well remembered by students of American humor as a contemporary and rival of Artemus Ward. He was a member of a prominent Boston family, and of the class of 1846 at West Point. He was a gallant soldier, having been wounded during the Mexican War at Cerro Gordo, and was promoted for his bravery in that battle. Scarcely anyone was immune from his practical jokes, but, fortunately for his peace of mind, Mr. Gouverneur was acquainted with an incident of his life which, if known, would make him a butt of ridicule; and he accordingly felt perfectly safe in his companionship and well enjoyed his humorous exploits. One day Derby and Mr. Gouverneur were sauntering through the streets of Washington when the keen eye of the humorist was attracted by a sign over a store door which read, “Ladies’ Depository” the old-fashioned method of designating what would now be called a “Woman’s Exchange.” Turning to his companion, Derby remarked: “I have a little business to transact in this shop and I want you to go inside with me.” They entered and were met by a smiling female to whom Derby remarked: “My wife will be here to-morrow morning. I am so pleased to have discovered this depository. I hope that you will take good care of her. Expect her at eleven. Good-morning.”

In the early ’50’s Adjutant General Roger Jones determined to adopt a new uniform for the U.S. Army, and Derby was thus afforded a conspicuous opportunity to exercise his wit. He was an excellent draughtsman and set to work and produced a design. He proposed changing the entire system of modern tactics by the aid of an iron hook to be attached to the seat of each soldier’s trousers, this hook to be used by the three arms of the service cavalry, infantry and artillery. He illustrated it by a series of well-executed designs, and quoted high medical authority to prove its advantages from a sanitary point of view. He argued that the heavy knapsack induced a stooping position and a contraction of the chest but, hung on a hook by a strap over the shoulders, it would brace the body and back and expand the chest. The cavalrymen were to be rendered more secure in their seats when hooked to a ring in the saddle. All commissioned officers were to carry a light twenty-foot pole, with a ring attached to the end, to be used during an engagement in drawing stragglers back into the ranks. He made a drawing of a tremendous battle during which the Generals and Colonels were thus occupied, and in many other ways expatiated upon the value of the hook. When Jefferson Davis, the Secretary of War, saw Derby’s designs and read his recommendations, he felt that his dignity was wounded and the service insulted, and he immediately issued an order that Derby be court-martialed. William L. Marcy, then Secretary of State, was told of the transaction and of the cloud hanging over Derby. He looked over the drawings and saw a regiment, their backs towards him and drawn up in line, with knapsacks, blankets and everything appertaining to camp life attached to each soldier by a hook. Marcy, who saw the humorous side at once, said to Davis: “It’s no use to court-martial this man. The matter will be made public and the laugh will be upon us. Besides, a man who has the inventive genius that he has displayed, as well as the faculty of design, ill-directed though they be, is too valuable to the service to be trifled with.” Derby therefore was not brought to grief, and in time Davis’s anger was sufficiently mollified for him to enjoy the joke. I am enabled to state, through the courtesy of the present Assistant Secretary of War, that the drawings referred to are not now to be found in the files of the War Department; and a picture, which at the time was the source of untold amusement and of wide-spread notoriety, seems to be lost to the world.

An incident connected with the Indian War of 1856-58, in Washington Territory, furnished another outlet for Derby’s effective wit. A Catholic priest was taken prisoner by the savages at that time and led away into captivity, and in caricaturing the scene Derby represented an ecclesiastic in full canonicals walking between two stalwart and half-naked Indians, carrying a crook and crozier, with a tooth-brush attached to one and a comb to the other; while the letters “I. H. S.” on the priest’s chasuble were paraphrased into the words, “I hate Siwashes.” It must not be thought, however, that Derby’s life was wholly devoted to fun and frivolity, for he has been pronounced by an accomplished military writer and critic to have been “an able and accomplished engineer.” He was the author of “The Squibob Papers” and of “Phoenixiana; or Sketches and Burlesques,” either of which would worthily place him in the forefront of humorists in the history of American literature. I own a copy of the latter book which was given by the author to my husband. It seems strange, when one considers the character and career of this gifted man, that subsequent to his death nearly every member of his family should have met with a tragic end.

Although not a practical joker, my husband found much in Derby that was congenial, as many of their tastes were similar. Both of them were devoted to literature and both were accomplished writers; but while Derby published his works and was rewarded with financial success, Mr. Gouverneur wrote chiefly for the newspaper press. He edited and published a work by James Monroe, entitled “The People the Sovereigns,” but never sent to the press any works of his own production. I think that the lack of encouragement from me was the chief obstacle that deterred him from embarking upon a literary career. He commenced several novels but never finished them, and his chief literary remains are principally confined to the limits of his “commonplace-books.”

President Buchanan’s niece, Harriet Lane, subsequently Mrs. Henry Elliott Johnston of Maryland, presided with grace and dignity over the White House during her uncle’s administration. I first met Miss Lane before the period when Buchanan represented the United States at the Court of St. James. It was at a party given by Mrs. Hamilton Fish, whose husband was then a U.S. Senator from the State of New York. Her blond type of beauty made an indelible impression upon me, as she was very much the same style as the daughters of General Winfield Scott. Some years before her death, while she was living in Washington, I incidentally referred to this resemblance between the Scotts and herself and was not surprised to hear her say that others had spoken of it. To an exceptionally fine presence, she added unusual intelligence and brilliant power of repartee. I have often heard the story that at a social function at the White House an accomplished courtier was enlarging to Miss Lane upon her shapely hands “hands,” he ejaculated, “that might have swayed the rod of empire.” Her retort came without a moment’s hesitation, “or wake to ecstasy the living lyre.” Emily Schomberg, who married Hughes Hallett of England, wrote some years ago a charming sketch of Harriet Lane Johnston which was published in Mrs. Elizabeth F. Ellet’s book entitled, “The Court Circles of the Republic.”

Among the prominent belles of the Buchanan administration, and an intimate friend and companion of Harriet Lane, was Rebecca B. Black, daughter of the eminent jurist, Judge Jeremiah S. Black of Pennsylvania, Attorney-General and for a time Secretary of State under Buchanan. She was the widow of Isham Hornsby of Washington, where, in her beautiful home, she was surrounded by a charming circle and was much admired and beloved. Peter Grayson Washington, a son of Lund Washington, whom I have already mentioned in connection with my wedding, was a conspicuous figure at the National Capital during the Buchanan regime. During the Pierce administration he was Assistant Secretary of the Treasury under James Guthrie. He had an impressive bearing, and carried a gold-headed cane which he boasted had originally belonged to his distinguished relative, the first President. Although by birth a Virginian, Mr. Washington never wavered in his loyalty to the Union. During the latter part of the Civil War he made a visit to us in our Maryland home, and I shall always remember the expression of his opinion that many leaders of the Confederate cause were not true representatives of the South, citing as examples some members of Jefferson Davis’s cabinet. He concluded his remarks with the facetious statement that “if they had only chosen a second Washington as a leader they might have been successful.” Earlier residents of the District will recall Littleton Quinton Washington, a prolific writer chiefly upon political subjects, and a younger half-brother of Peter G. Washington.

My old and valued friend, Mrs. Hamilton Holly, and Peter Grayson Washington were the Godparents of my eldest daughter. At the earnest request of the former, this ceremony took place in the house of Mrs. Alexander Hamilton, in the De Menou buildings. Mrs. Holly and I characterized the gathering as a revolutionary party, as so many of the guests bore names prominent during our struggle for independence. I never saw Mrs. Hamilton Holly again. Shortly after this pleasant function I sailed for China, and just before starting on my long voyage I received the following note, which saddened me more than I can well express:

SEth.

My dear friend,

For many days I have been blessed by your very kind letter, but am too, too low to answer it. One day so weak as to be obliged with my hand to wave Mrs. Furguson away (another lady obtained admittance), lest in the effort to converse I might find another home. My hand and head are exhausted.

Most truly yours,

E. H. HOLLY.